I have no desire to tie myself up to a decent married life." "I hardly think," said Domitius, smiling, "that you will resist my wishes long.

I have seen Lentulus Crus the consul-elect, and he and I agree that since your mother's distant kinsman Quintus Drusus of Praeneste is an unsuitable husband for Cornelia, Lentulus's niece, on account of his very dangerous political tendencies, no happier alliance could bind our families together than a marriage between Cornelia and yourself." Lucius yawned a third time and fell back on the couch.
"It's true," he ventured, "I have cared a good deal for Cornelia; and I've thrown over that little Greek Clyte and all the others for her; but then, to make a girl your sweetheart and to make her your wife are two very different things.

_Vina Opimia_ is best; but because one drinks a _cyathus_[97] of that, why should he forego a good nil of Thasian or Caecuban?
If I could have but one choice, give me plenty of the good, and I'll give up my few drops of the best." [97] About one-twelfth pint.
"Come, come," said Domitius, a little impatiently, "you must positively reform.

Besides, while appearances must be kept up, there is no need for leading the life of a Stoic.

You won't find Cornelia a hard companion.