Spartacus: Gods of the Arena

Titus:
Tell me I have been mistaken about you. Tell me you are not the serpent I have thought you to be.

Lucretia:
I am not. I'm far worse.

[Titus stares at her]

Lucretia:
I never cared what you thought of me. My lack of breeding. The absence of family or a name of worth. These things I cannot deny. But how low you considered your son? A man I love more than life itself? That could not be tolerated. So I began poisoning your beloved honey wine. My intent not to rob you of life. Only to mimic illness. A cough, increasing in its discomfort, easily blamed on Capua's dust and heat. It brought much joy when you departed for the wet shores of Sicilia. And Quintus, how he flourished when removed from overbearing shadow! And then you returned. To torture him, as you did all those years. So I began bringing you your honeyed wine again. To force you back to Sicilia. Yet it was not enough. You were not moved, despite ailing health. No. A more permanent solution was required between us. One that I added to Tullius' gift. Quintus will not forgive Tullius this. He will strike in your name. And Gaia's death will be avenged.