“Say, rather, thou likest not honesty!” firmly declared the aged mother. “Say rather, O mother, that I have courage to refuse to be responsible for thy friends,” he jeered. “Nay. The brothels and wine-shops are the schools from which men are chosen to office in these degenerate days,” said Livia, in a tone of disgust. “The brothels and wine-shops have truly educated great men,” he snarled. “But why didst thou choose this hour to pour out thy complaints?” “I wish that thou shouldst withdraw thy words of to-day at the meeting of the Senate on the morrow,” she commanded. “I go not to the house of Drusus this night.” “That I will not do,” he emphatically declared. “Then let the people and history judge of thy worthlessness and thy puerile nature,” she loudly exclaimed. “But tell me, O son of evil, why wilt thou not oblige me?” “Already have I told thee. I like not thy friend.” “He was trusted by thy divine step-father.” “Ay, my mother. But now _I_ conduct the affairs of the empire.” “Let me but speak to the people, let me but unfold to them thy nature, and thy power will crumble like a child’s sand-hill before the rising tide of the ocean,” threatened the mother. “Ah! Once did I fear thee, but never more,” drawled Tiberius. “Once I wished thy help, but now thy opinions in affairs of state are no longer sought. Hereafter _my_ wishes shall be observed.” “Thou mockest me, thou tauntest me, O Tiberius!” she cried. “I care not for the loss of power. But public insult is something I cannot and will not endure. Never did the Divine Augustus so treat me, and thou shalt not. Ingrate that thou art! no grain of respect or gratitude lives in thy bitter nature. But am I, the wife and the mother of an emperor, to be buffeted about by a thing that associates with the rabble of the street? Am I--” “Hold, mother!” interrupted Tiberius. “I am thy son. Inheritance has left some marks upon me.” “Ah! Inheritance is the cloak behind which cowards hide,” she said with bitter emphasis. “’Twas not I, O mother, who counselled the death of Agrippa,” he pettishly argued. “’Twas thou who gavest the order,” she replied in a taunting tone. “Did Germanicus, the pure, unstained son of Antonia, fall by any wish of mine? His crime was the love he inspired in the hearts of the people. A comparison between his purity and thy uncleanness was more than thou couldst endure. O Tiberius, corruption crowns thy brow! The pimples on thy face are words that all can read. Goodness flees before thee. Joy is strangled in thy presence. Love--” “Hold!” cried Tiberius, bursting with anger. “Defy me not, O Livia! Thou wearest the honored crown of age, but before abusive words respect flees.” “Thy respect for me, cruel son, died when I placed thee where thou art!” “Of a truth, O mother Livia, my respect for thee was not increased when I heard, three days ago, of thy actions the night before.”