Drusus could hardly recognize in the supple-limbed, fair-complexioned, vivacious lad before him, the wretched creature whom Alfidius had driven through the streets.
Agias's message was short, but quite long enough to make Drusus's pale cheeks flush with new life, his sunken eyes rekindle, and his languor vanish into energy.

Cornelia would be waiting for him by the great cypress in the gardens of the Lentulan villa, as soon as the moon rose.
Drusus prepared himself hurriedly, and refused all the entreaties of Titus to take him along as a body-guard.

Time coursed on winged feet, as the young man hastened out into the night, and half ran down the familiar pathway.

The day had been only moderately warm for the season, and the night was cool, though not cold.

A soft east wind was blowing down from the distant Apennines, and all the trees were rustling gently.