Rome

We should go.

Night is coming.

They sleep standing up, you know.

Elephants.

On account once laid down, they cannot rise again.

Is that so?

I was not aware.

We should go.

Where?

Utica is not far.

Utica.

What's there for us?

Shelter. Food.

I need neither.

Sleep, then.

Sleep would be pleasant.

So...

Utica then.

Dear me.

Really, Aquinas, is this the best we can do?

No matter. No matter.

Bring water for washing.

And bread... and wine.

I think I shall make myself drunk tonight.

Perhaps just this once you will join me.

I think not.

Cheer up. We live.

We do. We live.

And where there's life, there's hope.

I'm afraid if we have done anything, old friend,

we've disproved that proverb.

Aquinas, this bread is stubborn.

Give me your knife.

Scipio...

you have a tolerant spirit.

If you can, you should...

make your peace with Caesar.

Oh, I don't know about that. I shall do whatever you do.

I wouldn't do that.

- Go your own way. - In any case, let's not discuss it now.

There'll be plenty of time for such sad talk.

If you'll excuse me.

I need to urinate.

There's a pisspot through there, I believe.

Help! Help!

Send them away.

Do it now.

Cut deep, boy.

Goodbye, sir.

We thank you so much.

We hope you have enjoyed our humble efforts

on this happy day!

Happy day on which our glorious father has returned!

Happy day on which the Julian sun has risen

and banished Pompeian night forever!

Happy day on which our brave soldiers

have come home to their families!

Happy day!

- Salve. - Welcome back.

- Are you home for good now? - I am. I am.

No more soldiering for me.

Bona Dea.

It's nice, isn't it?

It is.

- Who are these? - I bought them last year.

Four slaves we have now?

They were a good price.

On a soldier's wage?

The butcher shop paid for them with plenty to spare.

The butcher shop?

Me and Lyde have made a nice business out of it.

Five hundred head a week sometimes.

Pigs mostly, but some sheep and cows for the religious trade.

Eirene!

- It's very good to see you. - It's good to see you too, master.

- You speak our words! - If it pleases you.

Oh, it does. Of course it does.

Can I get you anything?

A bit of water would be nice.

Ah!

I brought you something.

Here, let me.

Lovely.

"Parentalia begins on the Ides.

Temples will be shut,

and no wherein celebrated.

Public festivals shall be at the fifth hour in the circus.

Wine to be provided by the Capitoline fraternity,

and cakes by the Guild of Millers.

The Guild of Millers uses only the finest grains...

True Roman bread, for true Romans".

The fat old bitch herself eh?

Must be good to be home.

What is it, two years you've been gone?

Are you still fucking my mother?

When she'll have me.

That would explain your excessive familiarity.

- Excuse me. - That's all right.

I was merely curious, and you're correct.

It does feel good to be home.

My darling boy.

Oh!

So handsome.

- Sister, I hope you're well. - Let me hug you.

Come inside and wash.

Let's get rid of the stink of horse off you.

Timon, I'll, uh... see you later.

Please, Mother, we will be late.

Oh, we must not be late. That would never do.

I do not want to go to dinner any more than you do,

but Caesar has treated me extremely well,

and we must go if asked.

- Honor demands... - - Honor?

- Honor. - Not honor then,

common sense.

I cannot ask mercy of Caesar,

accept rank and favor from him,

and then refuse his friendship.

What sort of man asks for mercy in the first place?

I assure you, Mother,

I am not proud of myself.

I am not proud at all.

In lieu of a noble suicide,

you shall have to be content with that.

Bring me my shawl.

Please, do not come.

I shall make your excuses to Atia.

Certainly not. I will go.

Not to be there would be seen as weakness.

Perhaps it will do you good to see him.

See that he is just a man.

The loss of his affection is not worth

this endless raging sorrow.

I feel neither rage nor sorrow.

My objection to Caesar is purely political,

not personal.

The Pontic troops ran so fast

I don't know if they ever stopped.

It is no wonder Pompey took Pontius so readily.

A child with a stick might have done so.

What next, sir? Germany perhaps?

I'm afraid I must put on a triumph this next month,

and they're damnable beasts to organize.

Still, the people love a good parade

and we must not disappoint them.

How lovely to see you both.

- It's been far too long. - We are joyful to be here.

- Joyful, indeed. - Is this a mourning shawl?

It's very pretty. Has someone died?

A great many have died.

How true. But it's all over now,

and we're still alive, neh?

It's not possible. Octavian?

Gods, you make me feel old.

Come.

It is the height of four men,

with a long neck like a goose,

spots like a leopard, and the speed of a horse.

I don't believe it. A new Chimera.

I assure you, it is quite real.

With any luck, you may see one at my triumph.

I have been trying to bring one over for months now,

but the wretched creatures keep dying on the way here.

- They do not like the sea. - It all sounds very tiring.

After this infernal triumph is done

- you must go to the country and relax. - I should like that,

but then my work begins in earnest.

I must set about putting the Republic to rights.

Splendid notion. How shall you proceed, do you suppose?

I have a few ideas, but I am open to suggestion.

Yesterday, I saw Malchio the baker in a litter.

A baker! I'd put a stop to that sort of thing immediately.

I shall have it looked into.

- Octavian? - Hmm?

How would you proceed, were you me?

- Uh, proceed with? - Putting the Republic to rights.

Ah. Um...

how to proceed.

I would start a large program of public works...

employ citizens and free men,

repair the aqueducts, levee the river... that sort of thing.

I would create at least 100 or so new senators,

that I could be sure were my creatures rather than my secret enemies.

What is your point, Octavian?

I did not mean you, Brutus, you're a man of honor.

I believe that your capitulation is sincere.

How nice of you to say so.

I just had a thought.

Did not your man Aelius Siculus die recently?

I'm afraid he did. In Thapsus, in fact.

Just so. You shall take his seat at the pontiff's table.

Pontiff? So young?

I was not so much older

- when I entered the college. - Very true, but...

I believe I have the authority

- to appoint whom I like. - Indeed, yes.

This is a great honor. Kiss your uncle's hand.

I kiss your hand, Uncle, but truly I would make an ill pontiff.

Don't be ridiculous. You'll make a lovely pontiff.

You'll see to it, right?