“Ay, my objections to the villain thou didst choose for Agrippina were well founded,” she said with deep feeling. “Cneius Domitius is descended from honorable and illustrious ancestors,” replied Tiberius. “The ancestors of Domitius[4] are not to be blamed for his vicious nature. Did his ancestors ever kill a freedman because he refused to drink more than he could hold? Did his ancestors riding in their chariots cruelly and purposely drive over children, crushing them to pieces? Where is there in the record of the family of Aenobrarbi one who thrust out the eyes of Roman knights in small quarrels? But who are these men that thou hast chosen?” “Julia shall marry Marcus Vinicus; Drusilla, Lucius Cassius,--both men of renowned families. Thy daughters will not marry for some years. I wish them to be taught to revere their ‘future husbands.’” “Both are honorable men,” she said approvingly. There was a studied and cold politeness in all the words they spoke. Tiberius said, “I have also come to deprive thee of thy son Caligula.” “What wouldst thou with him?” she nervously asked. “Since the death of one of the twins of Livilla, I propose to rear the remaining one under mine own eyes. I wish that Caligula may be his companion.” “Ay, O Tiberius; but he can be his companion and still live with me. They will be near each other, for thy palace and my house are joined together. Ask me not to give him up at his age.” “There can be no reasons why he should not live in the palace,” insisted the cruel emperor. “Ay, but he is my youngest son and the only one that is left me. Take him not away.” “I have said,” he coldly replied. “He will be free to come and see thee, and thou canst visit him. He will not be poisoned there.” “I fear not that, O Tiberius.” “Then why dost thou object? He shall eat at my table and shall be taught to trust me,--something which his mother will not do.” “Thou askest me to trust thee, O Tiberius?” “The mother of Germanicus trusts me; his wife fears me.” “In the death of Germanicus Antonia lost a son, I lost a husband and a protector.” “Has not the emperor protected thee and thy children?” The bitter irony hidden in his words increased the feeling of hate in Agrippina as she said, “Thinkest thou, O Tiberius, that I am a lifeless piece of clay, without memory, feeling, or heart?” “Ah, Agrippina!” he exclaimed. “Thou hast always regarded me through a veil of hate. Every good act I commit becomes distorted.”