f money."

"Lucius," went on his father, "you are grown to manhood. It is time
that you steadied in life. I have let you live by yourself too long.
You are even too indolent to engage in politics, or to go into the
army. I have come to a determination. You must marry the woman I have
selected for you."

Ahenobarbus pricked up his ears. As a matter of fact, he had surmised
what was coming, but he had no intention of admitting anything
prematurely.

"Really, father," he said, "I hope you won't use your legal right and
force a wife on me. 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. You have your pleasures and she hers, and you will
live harmoniously enough and not the least scandal."

And with this remark Domitius closed the matter, and Lucius was
actually delighted at the situation. What his father had said had been
true enough; half, nay, nearly all, Rome lived in the manner Domitius
had guardedly proposed for his son and intended daughter-in-law.
Marriage was becoming more and more a mere formality, something that
was kept up as the ancient state Pagan worship was kept up by the
remnants of old-time superstition, and as a cloak to hide a multitude
of sins. Fifty-nine years before, the consul Metellus Numidicus had