If this week's episode seems like a lot of chess pieces moving around on the board instead of attacking each other, that's because it is. Upon returning to Rome with his army, Octavian asks to be made Consul. Not seeing the harm, Cicero agrees, and quickly regrets it when Octavian's first act is to coerce the Senate to declare Brutus and Cassius murderers and enemies of the Republic. Vorenus and Pullo return to the Collegium with the kids, who are still pissed at their father and plan to run away until Lyde (now a temple devotee) talks Vorena the Elder out of it. Vorenus makes peace with the other mob bosses, screws Gaia and insists that she take money for it, and sends Pullo to tell Octavian that Vorenus is on Octavian's side, unless of course Mark Antony returns from Gaul ready to rumble. Speaking of Antony (and his new beard), he catches a break when the legions sent by the Senate to wipe him out desert to his side in their entirety. Over in Turkey, Brutus thinks that this is great news; Octavian and Antony can wipe each other out and Brutus can swoop in to pick up the pieces. Octavian for once seems out of his depth when he learns that Brutus is returning with twenty legions (as opposed to his four). And then, believe it or not, the best chess player of the week turns out to be none other than Julii Cooper, who engineers an alliance between her son and her boyfriend. Sure, I'm impressed now, but since it was her idea, it's bound to turn out catastrophic. Also, Timon remembers how to pray, Agrippa tells Octavia he loves her some more (this time in front of her mom), and Vorena decides to make nice with her father. Except she's totally making devil-horns behind her back. Literally.
We open on Timon's brother Levi at temple, praying fervently and fluently, a prayer shawl over his head and a tefillah (one of those little boxes containing Torah scrolls) strapped to his forehead. to him? Timon himself, also wearing a shawl and tefillah and doing his best to keep up. But his eyes soon roll back in his head. Whether it's in devotion or boredom, it's hard to tell. And that's all the time we have for Timon this week. Keep us posted on that redemption thing, though.
In Cisalpine Gaul, a couple of miserable-looking soldiers are about to settle down for some pretty poor rations. The already dreary meal is then immeasurably cheered by the start of a light rain. Just what they need. Through the surrounding trees, they see movement, and they rise with their hands on their sword hilts. But it's only an unarmed man in civilian garments with a heavy beard and a self-satisfied smirk, as well as a dead deer draped over his soldiers. "All right, boys," he says, tossing the carcass to the ground. "Let's eat." The soldiers draw their blades after all, and set to work. It's not until later that I'll realize this shaggy mountain man is none other than Mark Antony. I wasn't sure of the point of this scene either. You can draw your own conclusions.
Pullo and Vorenus appear to have traded one of their horses for a covered wagon. Vorenus is currently driving it back toward Rome while Pullo rides shotgun, or whatever it was called back then. Bow, I suspect. All three kids are asleep in the back, except Vorena the younger, who looks up blankly at Pullo when he steals a peek. Pullo suggests to Vorenus that maybe they shouldn't go back to the Collegium, since Antony's orders don't technically stand, and a place full of criminals might not be the best place to raise kids. Vorenus hotly asks Pullo for other suggestions, now that the children have been defiled and disgraced. Dudeus, they're right behind you. Pullo says that they could go anywhere and not tell anybody: "Who's to know?" Vorenus angrily scoffs at the idea of "living dishonestly." "Well there's lies and there's lies, innit?" Pullo observes, for all the good it does.
On their way into the city, Pullo and Vorenus run into an official roadblock that appears to be rather backed up. Vorenus and Pullo approach the Roman solider running things and ask what's up. The soldier says that the road's blocked "by the authority of Gaius Octavian Caesar." Who has apparently decided that coming back into Rome should be as much as possible like coming back into the U.S. from Tijuana. Meanwhile, on the cart, Vorena the Younger wakes her sister to tell her that they're unattended, so this is their chance to make a dash for it. Vorena the Elder tells her not yet; they can't run without any money, and they'll have to wait. So I take it they're not as happy to be back together as Vorenus is. Up at the roadblock, the soldier is telling Pullo and Vorenus that Octavian and his army of 15,000 have set up camp on the Field of Mars outside the city. On their way back to the cart, Vorenus remarks to Pullo, "Your boy's a bit aggressive, isn't he?" Pullo amiably shoots back, "My boy gave your man a whipping. I expect he knows what he's doing." They're like Mets and Yankees fans or something.
Meanwhile, Pullo's boy is receiving a visit from Cicero in his tent. The younger man is sitting behind a large desk, Agrippa at his side and Maecenas nearby, while Octavian makes Cicero sit in a chair below him and at a distance. Cicero obligingly plays his sycophantic part, calling Octavian "a hero of the Republic. Caesar himself could not have conjured a finer victory." Octavian again reminds us that he's Caesar now. Whatever. I'm not going to start calling him that, and he can't make me. Pick some previously unused name like "Augustus" and we'll talk. Cicero expresses the thanks of the Senate for Octavian's defeating Mark Antony, and Octavian asks why he's not getting the triumph he asked for if the Senate is so damn grateful. Cicero offers a few good reasons. First, Mutina was a victory over other Romans, as opposed to the uncivilized barbarians people usually get triumphs for subjugating. Plus everyone knows that the dead and never-seen senior generals, Hirtius and Pansa, commanded the battle anyway. "The purpose of a battle is to remain alive," says Octavian. "They did not. I did." Okay, but by that logic, Cicero is three times the warrior Octavian is. Rather than pointing this out, Cicero says that Mark Antony also survived, and now the Senate has had to send did as well, and they've sent one Marcus Lepidus and two legions after him. Octavian mocks Lepidus's abilities, but magnanimously says that Lepidus can have a triumph of his own when he gets back if he wants. Cicero plays his last card: he says that the people of Rome won't appreciate a triumph with Octavian's army at the city walls. "There he has a point," Maecenas chimes in. Octavian realizes that he's not going to win this one, and concedes the point. But, since he can't have the triumph he wanted, maybe he could be Consul instead? With a mighty effort, Cicero manages not to laugh in Octavian's face. This is, of course, what Octavian actually wanted all along, and I'm surprised Cicero doesn't realize it. But Cicero simply remarks that, at nineteen, Octavian isn't old enough to be a Senator, let alone Consul: "You have no experience. You have no connections." "He has an army," says Agrippa, and Cicero folds. Although he does manage to extract a promise from Octavian to "be guided by [Cicero's] counsel." Octavian quickly agrees not to "utter a word without your advice, without your consent." Cicero gets up, satisfied. As if a guy who just issued a veiled threat of a military coup is to be trusted. But I suppose the way Cicero sees it, he came in here to face a grasping, demanding young general and is now leaving with his own puppet Consul. This should work out splendidly.
That doesn't prevent Cicero from venting to his slave, Tyro, outside the tent. "Bumptious young fool," he complains, but he plans to give Octavian what he wants. "He will wear the purple as he wears the armor, like a child playing at grownups." Which is funny, because as he's saying this, Cicero himself is having some difficulty negotiating the martial field outside the tent, clumsily dodging parading platoons. Some grownup. And it's also funny because Cicero wore armor like a drag queen.
At the house of the Julii, Octavia tells her mother she's leaving to visit Octavian, and gives her one more chance to come along. Julii Cooper refuses, because she's too busy picking out cloth for her dress. And also because she doesn't want to be the one go to Octavian, insisting, "I gave birth to the little ingrate. He will come to me." Octavia disagrees, not very nicely. Julii Cooper turns on her, saying, "I really appreciate these little chats we have in between your drug binges." Wait, wasn't there just the one? Octavia lets it drop, and asks what Julii Cooper wants her to say to Octavian. "Tell him he's still got all our money and we want it back," Julii Cooper instructs. Octavia leaves, so that Julii Cooper can get back to more important matters. That cloth isn't going to choose itself, you know.
At the Collegium, things are looking...well, fairly collegial. I guess the old gang war has reached a détente. A boisterous dice game is going on, with Mascius doing fairly well while Gaia sits on his lap as a good-luck charm. The noisy room falls silent as Vorenus and Pullo enter, get about halfway down the stairs, and stop there. Nobody moves except Eirene, who hurries up to hug the two younger children (and smile at her husband, as well). Sheathed sword in hand, Vorenus makes a little speech to the room: "These are my daughters, redeemed from slavery. The eldest has been prostituted. The boy is my wife's child by another man." Well, I guess that's one way to prevent rumors from spreading. Vorenus concludes, "You will treat them with respect and kindness. Or I will know the reason why." He makes an "as you were" gesture and leads his family the rest of the way down the stairs. As the chatter picks up again, Mascius in particular doesn't look too happy to see his two superiors back. Somebody liked being the boss.
Vorenus leads the kids into the crappy, cluttered little storage room where they'll be living. "Gets a good breeze from the river," he says, as if that's a good thing in the year Whatever B.C. He promises to have the room cleaned out and repainted as he throws open a window and asks if they like it. "Yes, Father," Vorena the Elder answers sullenly. Picking up on the vibe, Vorenus says that they're all starting over: "There'll be awkwardness, no doubt, but we're a family. And we'll be together. And we will not speak of the past," he adds, like he's the one doing them a favor there. Vorena again grumps her consent, and Vorenus gets to work on the place while his children watch. His first action is to move some kind of canister about two feet across the floor. This could take a while.
Octavia's visiting her brother in his tent. Wisely, we've already skipped past the bit where she first sees him and wonders who the fuck he is. After some gentle mocking of each other's eating habits and respective weights (consensus: they're skinny), Octavia broaches the subject of Julii Cooper, lying that their mother sends her love. Octavian's doubtful, but his sister continues trying to play the peacemaker: she says that Julii Cooper "has this silly idea that [he] should come to her." "She'll grow old alone, then," snaps Octavian. Kind of a rude thing to say to the child who's still living there, if you ask me. Octavia tries to smooth things over, saying that she too has reason to hate their mom, but why go all Dark Side over it? "Who can you love if not your own mother?" she asks. In answer, Octavian angrily says, "She put her lover to beating me!" Not to defend Julii Cooper, but as I recall she pulled her lover off him at least twice. I don't think I've had anyone pulled off of me twice in my entire life. Octavia makes more excuses, saying that Julii Cooper is under Antony's thrall: "She's scared and lonely without him." Instead of remarking that there's nothing more dangerous than a scared and lonely Julii Cooper, Octavian stiffly says, "I should have thought that you at least would be on my side."
Octavian gets up from the couch where he and Octavia have both been lounging and marches over behind his desk as she claims it's not about sides; she and their mother both love him, she says. Octavian repeats, "She put her lover to beating me! Her sweat was on him." Oh, so it's about that, is it? Pretty judgmental for a guy who once had sex with his sister. Octavia tells Octavian to get off his high horse, reminding him why everyone was so pissed off at him in the first place: "You'd just thrown the family into ruinous debt! For this! So you can play at soldiers! I might have beaten you myself." Octavian tries to shut her down, but Octavia comes to his desk, asking him to come home. Without lifting his eyes from the desk, Octavian tells her that he doesn't plan to enter the city until he's named Consul, after which he'll live at Caesar's villa, and if Julii Cooper wants to come see him there, he won't stop her. This is the first that Octavia has heard of her brother's Consular ambitions, and she wonders why he even wants that. He not only answers her condescendingly, but also demands that she speak of him in public only with respect. She's offended that he would think otherwise. Finally, he formally thanks her for her visit, calling her "sister" and saying he hopes to see her again when he's "less busy." Defeated, Octavia picks up her cloak and walks out, but not without one parting shot: "What a stupid ass you've become!" Octavian slumps back unhappily in his chair. He's never going to get back in her toga this way.
At the Collegium, Mascius is telling Vorenus what a rough time of it he's had running the place by himself in the middle of a gang war. (Between the dice games, one assumes.) Vorenus mildly says that Mascius did fine, so now things will go back to the way they were before: "Pullo's second, you're third." Mascius isn't happy; he was hoping to be second. Gaia arrives with a plate of food, and Mascius snaps at her. Instead of leaving, she asks Vorenus if he wants anything, and he tells her to see what the kids want. "Will do, boss," says Gaia. So much for Mascius counting on the support of his girlfriend. Once it's just the men again, Mascius says that it's only fair for him to get a promotion after being captain for months. He doesn't mention that he also stuck around as second after Pullo left, but since Pullo is sitting right there, it might not be wise to do so. Vorenus says that they're not exactly running the Hall of Justice around here: "I die, Pullo dies, you move up. That's how it works." He doesn't add that Mascius will get to be in charge again the time he and Pullo take off on some open-ended wild goose chase. Pullo tries to lighten the mood by offering to bet Vorenus fifty golden drachmae that Pullo won't go first. As if either one of them will ever be able to collect. Also, quit trying to foreshadow the series finale, Pullo. Not your job.
But then the mood is done being lightened, because Lyde has just entered the building. She's not immediately recognizable, because she's dressed in white from head to toe. Vorenus goes to meet her on the stairs, and they have the most awkward of awkward reunions. She doesn't want to look at him, but he assures her that he's harmless. Noticing her outfit, he asks if she's living at that temple, and she confirms that she's in the service of Orbona, whoever that is. He's fine, she's fine, everyone's fine, how are you? Lyde asks after the children, and Vorenus says that they're well enough. He invites her in to see them, but on the way to their room, he stops her: "Don't think you can take them away. They're staying with me." Lyde looks for a moment like she's going to deny ever thinking otherwise, but things better of it and follows Vorenus toward the back. She already knows that he doesn't care to be lied to.
Vorenus lets Lyde into the kids' room, and the two younger ones rush to her as she kneels on the floor to embrace them. As for Vorena the Elder, she doesn't move or smile. Perhaps she's the only one who remembers that Lyde got them caught trying to escape, and then abandoned them. Vorenus lingers in the door, leaving only when Vorena the Elder reluctantly moves to join the group hug.
Late at night, everyone's gone from the Collegium's main room. It's after closing time. Pullo comes down to find Eirene still doing the washing up, and tells her to come to bed. Then he notices that she's crying, and asks why, guessing, "Something I've done, I expect." Hey, don't go too far out on that limb, there. Eirene asks him, "Why do you leave me with these bad people?" Pullo asks if anyone mistreated her in his absence, but her point is that Pullo left her for the sake of Vorenus. He says he had to: "The children." For the gods' sake, somebody had to think of the children! Eirene Yodas, "Vorenus -- him you love. Me? No." Smiling gently, Pullo insists that he loves Eirene more: "If both of you were drowning in the river, I'd save you first. No question." Seriously, she makes him swear it. Enough foreshadowing, already! This scene is dim enough as it is. It looks like that's going to be the end of it, but then Pullo has to be a wise-ass and say, "You're half his weight. Not so heavy. Easy to save." She's unamused, but she makes out with Pullo anyway. What other options does she have, after all?
Daytime. Julii Cooper seems to have changed her mind about approaching Octavian, because she now lets herself into his tent. He stands up from behind his desk and flatly says, "Mother." His expression is stony. Actually reading a room for once, Julii Cooper almost immediately starts weeping and begging for forgiveness. When she prostrates herself on the floor, Octavian disgustedly comes around the desk, trying to get her up. She's not done, though, histrionically asking Octavian to beat or kill her, as long as he forgives her: "I spit on that pig Antony for leading me astray." She begs for a chance to change, and pulls him down to kneel in front of her, saying that she's so sorry. Finally, Octavian whispers, "I forgive you." Julii Cooper breaks into further sobs, kissing and hugging Octavian tightly. Over her shoulder, Octavian's face is all, "What did I just do?" Over his, Julii Cooper's face is all, "That was so easy!" Yes, it was.
Back home, Octavia wakes from a nap as her mother and brother arrive back at the house. "Our beloved Octavian has blessed us with his forgiveness," Julii Cooper announces. Behind Octavian, she frantically makes a "be nice!" face at her daughter. This would be confusing to Octavia even if she hadn't just woken up, but she manages to get her shit together, welcoming her brother home and embracing him. He's way taller than she is now. Over his shoulder, Octavia makes a "WTF" face at her mother, who grins back smugly, all, "I'm so awesome! I ate shit!"
Vorenus has brought his reunited family to a priest for some kind of purifying ritual. It involves the priest praying to Janus, draining the blood out of a bird, and then smearing the gore all over Vorena the Elder's face. It's gross. Like she hasn't dealt with enough recently. But after months of acting as a dedicated receptacle for overseer-spooge, Vorena doesn't seem too bothered by potentially becoming patient zero in the first avian flu epidemic. She just seems to think the whole concept of the ritual is bullshit, not that she says anything. Vorenus smiles at her proudly and cluelessly, and makes his own promise to Janus that he will "renounce darkness and walk in the path of light." That's going to be tough for a crime boss. Lyde looks doubtful, but she says nothing.
At Mark Antony's mountain base camp, soldiers march to and fro, as they do. One group looks different from the rest: a short, grumpy general marches along, fenced in by towering soldiers at each corner. My research tells me this means formation means he is a prisoner, and by "research" I mean "watching the scene."
Here we are. They enter Mark Antony's tent, and seeing Antony with his new beard and wavy disco-hair makes me belatedly realize that he was the one delivering deer to hungry soldiers in the second scene. Presumably there was also a deleted scene in which he joined the Bee Gees. Antony warmly greets the grumpy general as Lepidus. He dismisses the guards, saying that Lepidus probably doesn't have any "ill designs." "Not under present circumstances, no," Lepidus stiffly agrees.
A moment later, over wine, Lepidus exposits, "My men deserted to your side with great alacrity. Not a single blow struck, yet my camp is empty. Amazing." Antony agrees that he needs to write to Cicero and the Senate, thanking them for sending him so many fresh troops. Oops. I guess that didn't work out so well for them, did it? Lepidus admits that he didn't realize Antony was so popular. Antony says that Lepidus is probably just too "noble" and "aristocratic," both of which somehow sound like putdowns when he says them. He gets to his point, which is what they should do , now that Lepidus has surrendered. He doesn't want to kill Lepidus, but he can't exactly let him go, either. So he takes a page from Caesar's book and offers Lepidus a position as his second-in-command. Lepidus is taken aback by the "generosity" of the offer, but realizes that he can't really say no. I guess he's not really much of a death-before-dishonor type, then.
Pullo's paying Octavian a visit at Caesar's villa. As they stroll around the grounds, Octavian wearing his new red-and-white Consul's robes and trying as awkwardly as ever to make small talk, the subject comes around to Vorenus. Pullo says, "My friend asks you to understand that he remains under loyal oath to the man up north." Octavian grunts noncommittally. "But he will do what's best for the city," Pullo adds. "He acknowledges that you are legal custodian of the Republic, and will keep the peace the same as before." Vorenus certainly does have a gift for walking the line between warring factions, doesn't he? But Pullo says that they can't make promises for the future: "If him up north were to come back with full armor on..." When did Mark Antony become he who must not be named? Octavian dons a laurel crown and says that they'll worry about later later. Which, knowing Octavian, probably means that he's already got it all figured out. As he leaves, Pullo congratulates him, and Octavian thanks Pullo. By the way, that scene included a bust of the late Caesar. It wasn't the best likeness, and far from actual size, because Pullo and Octavian still had room to move around.
The Senate chamber is packed with applauding Senators. Cicero has the floor, and is holding forth on the return of a lawful Republic, new beginning, blah blah blahus. He says that they're now going to swear in the youngest Consul in the history of Rome, Gaius Octavian Caesar. Octavian himself enters to applause and takes the Consul's seat. It's not Caesar's demi-throne, the source of so much controversy, but the old seat, with barely any sides or back to it at all. It looks almost as uncomfortable as the stone benches the Senators have to sit on. Octavian begins by saying that he plans to honor his father (by which he of course means his great-uncle, Caesar). He hopes to usher in a new era of "moral virtue" and "dignity," marking an end to the period of "debauchery and chaos." ["Good luck with that." -- Wing Chun] Cicero sits complacently, listening to a speech he probably helped to write, as Octavian promises that Rome will once again be "a proud Republic of virtuous women and honest men." The Senate applauds. When it dies down and Octavian begins speaking again, we can tell from Cicero's alarmed reaction that Octavian has gone off-script. As "a grieving son," Octavian proposes a motion "to declare Brutus and Cassius murderers and enemies of the state." Whoa. Wait, he knows he hasn't been officially sworn in yet, right? It doesn't seem to matter, though; the Senators start murmuring amongst themselves. Cicero sits and stews for a minute before realizing that nobody else is going to step up to fix this, so it's up to him. He gets up from his seat and approaches Octavian for a sidebar, saying that this isn't what they agreed on. "Nevertheless, here we are," says Octavian coldly. Cicero urgently whispers that Brutus and Cassius still have plenty of friends, and that this will dangerously divide the Senate and the Republic itself. "Step away from my chair," Octavian orders, and Cicero returns to his seat. Octavian rises from his to makesa big speech: "My father died on this floor. Right there. Stabbed twenty-seven times, butchered by men he called his friends. Who will tell me that is not murder? Who will tell my legions, who love Caesar as I do, that that is not murder?" Right on cue, several fully armored soldiers march in and stand flanking Octavian. Once they're in formation, each of them draws his sword a few inches. Into the silence, Octavian says, "Who will speak against the motion?" In the light of the naked steel flashing across the room, nobody does. Octavian, you fucking little asshole. So much for Republicanism. I know the Senate has probably been corrupt from the word veni, but this kind of prick move offends me the way guns in the temple offend Jacob. I hope it bites him in his smug ass. (Octavian, I mean, not Jacob.)
Later, the Senate chamber is empty except for Cicero and his slave Tyro. "I've been outmaneuvered by a child," Cicero pouts. Yes. Yes, you have. Does this mean that people will finally stop underestimating Octavian? Because I've been waiting a while. Tyro suggests a trip to the country. Cicero has a better idea: a letter to Brutus and Cassius. Tyro doesn't think Octavian will like that much, but Cicero's balls and backbone aren't buried as far down in his junk drawer as they used to be. "Don't talk, write," he says, and begins dictating. "Heroes of the Republic: Greetings."
At the Collegium, Gaia finishes clearing away after the lunch rush or whatever. After she leaves the room, Vorena the Younger sneaks in, pilfers some coins from the unattended cash box, and flits back to the kids' room. There, her older sister is pulling a large purse from its hiding place. She's in the middle of stashing the cash when Vorenus comes in without knocking. They all knock stuff over and sit on the floor, but if Vorenus suspects anything, he pretends otherwise. Once the conversation gets past the initial "how are you" stages, he stands awkwardly before them, wondering what to say . Salvation comes when his eyes light upon Little Lucius's toy elephant, which seems to have thrown a wheel. Vorenus pleasantly stoops to pick up the pieces, promising that he can fix it with no problem. The ice thus broken (at least as far as Vorenus is concerned; the kids are still pretty quiet), he apologizes for having been so busy since their return, and offers to take them for a day in the country some time soon. They leave him hanging there, until Vorena the Elder finally mutters, "If you like." That's enough for Vorenus, and he leaves them alone, toy elephant in hand. Once the door closes, Vorena the Younger spits on the floor and looks to her older sister for approval. She gets as much as her sister's willing to give lately, which isn't much beyond a slightly softened expression.
That night, Vorenus is struggling with the task of whittling a new axle for the elephant, and not having as easy a time of it as he'd hoped. Cry me a river. If I took it upon myself to fix one of my kid's toys, I'd need a wiring schematic and a soldering iron. Gaia comes in to ask if Vorenus wants anything from the kitchen before she locks up. He declines, but she still sticks around, trying to make small talk about elephants. From this awkward, endless conversation, we learn that (a) Vorenus has seen some, (b) they are big, and (c) they do not have wheels. Who says this show isn't educational? Vorenus finishes his repairs, and Gaia offers, "You can have me if you like." Vorenus looks up at her for the first time, surprised, and then looks away in embarrassment. Gaia takes that as a no, but Vorenus tells her to stay.
Cut to an unnecessarily long scene of missionary sex that Vorenus still somehow manages to make look like interpretive dance. Afterward, Gaia looks like she's going in for a kiss, but Vorenus rather rudely dismisses her: "There's coin on the table. You can take half." Offended, she says that she's not a whore, and that she thought they liked each other. "What a happy couple we'd make," Vorenus snarks, and tells her again to take the money. Wrapping her toga around herself, Gaia gets up to leave, but Vorenus angrily insists that she take the money. Gaia decides not to make a big deal of it, and leaves that much richer. Any relaxing effects the encounter might have had on Vorenus appear to have worn off already. Now he's just going to have to start over.
Not enough nudity for you? We now cut to a scene in which a crowd of half-naked bodies are writhing around one another rhythmically while music plays. The audience for the performance includes Maecenas and, technically, Agrippa, although the latter is facing Maecenas instead of the dancers. Agrippa announces that he's going, and Maecenas tells him to hang, although they can barely hear each other over the racket. Agrippa worries about the propriety of seconds to the Consul being seen "in such places," but Maecenas of course doesn't care. On Agrippa's way out, he spots none other than Octavia, lounging on a couch at the end of the room and emitting an opium haze. Ah, this would be how "drug binges" became plural. Jocasta lies on the couch to her, blowing smoke rings. Looking yellow and waxy, Jocasta asks if the walls are melting. Octavia doesn't think so, but Jocasta is pretty sure. "We should all die!" she giggles, but in the meantime, Agrippa has walked up, scooped Octavia off her couch, and walked out. By the time Jocasta notices, Octavia's long gone. She sits up, her mellow thoroughly harshed. But unlike most TV characters in this situation, she does not immediately shake her head and throw away her hookah.
Agrippa gets Octavia into her house and sets her semi-conscious form down on a couch. He's about to leave, giving instructions to Castor to "have her washed and put to bed as quietly as possible." Quite discreet of him, which is good, considering that Julii Cooper has appeared and wants to know what's going on. Oops, busted. Agrippa wishes Julii Cooper a good evening and is about to take his leave, but of course Julii Cooper wants to know where he and Octavia were in the middle of the night. From her drug haze, Octavia claims, "I was at a perfectly nice party with Jocasta, and this impudent brute abducted me." To her credit, Julii Cooper doesn't buy it for a second: "And brought you home to mother. Strange abduction." Agrippa advises Octavia to tell the truth, and she finally admits that she was at an orgy. Agrippa rather charmingly downplays it, saying that it was the early stages, and assuring Julii Cooper, "The Bacchic rituals had not yet begun." That doesn't prevent Julii Cooper from calling her daughter a "stupid drunken slut." Agrippa tries to play the peacemaker, but Julii Cooper is convinced that if moralizer-in-chief Octavian finds out, he'll have Octavia banished. "Don't you dare say a word to anyone about this!" Julii Cooper threatens Agrippa, and he looks shocked at the very idea that he would. Julii Cooper wonders why Agrippa won't tattle, and he stutters for about a half-hour. "Because I was there too" would be a perfectly acceptable answer, but Agrippa loses what little cool he has and says it's because he loves Octavia. Embarrassed for both of them, Octavia says that's only because he doesn't know her, but of course he does. She's "kind and full-hearted and beautiful": "I would tear down the sky for you if you asked me to." Octavia isn't unaffected by this, and her mother is a lot les offended than I would expect her to be. She might even be thinking that there are worse matches for her daughter than the Consul's best friend. The Consul himself, for example. Agrippa's finally ready to leave, but first he has something to say to Julii Cooper: "If you ever speak to her like that again in my presence, I shall -- I shall be very angry." And I think he means it, too. He storms out with the tattered remains of his dignity, leaving mother and daughter staring at one another.
In Turkey, Brutus has just gotten Cicero's letter with the news that he and Cassius have been declared murderers and enemies of the state. Cassius is all ready to be offended, but Brutus is thrilled; Octavian has pissed away his chance to reunite the Senate and the people behind him. Furthermore, the Senate's highly tuned tyrant-alarm is going off and they're begging Brutus and Cassius to return and "save the Republic." Calling for a scribe, Brutus recaps Octavian and Antony's numbers. The former has four legions, the latter seven. But, as Brutus explains, they hate each other more than they do Brutus and Cassius: "We need only wait and mop up the survivors." He and Cassius hug happily. Finally, the scribe arrives, and Brutus begins his reply to Cicero. As contagious as Brutus's excitement is, I can't help thinking that at least one of his premises is faulty. Don't worry, we'll find out before the end of the episode which one it is.
Vorenus is having a sit-down in a small shack with a couple of other local crime bosses, one of whom is our old friend Memmio. It's tense but peaceful, with wine and everything. The three of them sit at a small table, their seconds arranged nearby. Not-Memmio remarks that Vorenus is back, and has found his children: "They were slaves, I hear." Pullo's eyes get hard, but Vorenus mildly confirms it. Memmio is more polite, congratulating Vorenus on having his family back. That brings Vorenus to his point; he wants there to be peace between the factions so that his children can be safe. Plus the Consul wants it. Not-Memmio scoffs at the suggestion that Pullo's old friends with the Consul, and things tense up another notch, but Vorenus calms things down. The Son of Hades is determined to play nice. He remarks that all the violence is bad for business and bad for the city, even admitting his part in starting it: "All we've given is strength among our enemies. With peace amongst us three, Acerbo and the other lower Collegia will have to kiss our feet as they once did." Not-Memmio is doubtful, but Memmio asks what terms Vorenus has in mind. Vorenus says that Memmio and Not-Memmio can divide the Argosy docks between them as they wish, but he's keeping the Ostians, whatever those are. "But you can have a taste," he says magnanimously. "Let's say 5%." "Each," demands Not-Memmio, and Vorenus makes a big show of giving in. They all shake on it. I guess the path of light wasn't so hard to find after all.
Once Vorenus and Pullo are outside, Pullo warns that "they'll think we've gone soft." Vorenus doesn't care: "While they're fighting over the spoils of the Argosy, we'll be recruiting men and restoring order."
Back in the shack, Memmio and Not-Memmio figure that Vorenus has gone soft, and then begin fighting over the spoils of the Argosy. Wow, Vorenus is good.
Meanwhile, Vorenus's kids are escaping out their window to the street. They run straight to the ratty storefront temple where Lyde is sweeping the sidewalk. She's surprised to see them and even more surprised to hear that they're running away. Lyde pawns the younger two kids off another sister so that she can have an urgent heart-to-heart with the eldest. Vorena doesn't want to stay with Vorenus: "He killed Mama, and cursed us to slavery and disgrace." Well, jeez, if you're going to carry a grudge. Lyde says that hating Vorenus is no reason for Vorena to drag her siblings into the street. She's not impressed with Vorena's bankroll, either: "The first thief that crosses your path will have that." Vorena's prepared to whore herself again if need be, but Lyde asks if that's what she wants for her siblings as well. And anyway, Vorenus will find them wherever they run. That's pretty clear; he's got a record of that. Lyde tells Vorena to stay: "While you live under his roof, you may carry your hatred like a stone inside you, but you mustn't ever let him see it. Never...It's what your mother would have wanted." But would Dr. Phil approve?
As before, Octavian is receiving a visit from Cicero, but this time at his villa. Cicero is so pissed that he gets right to the point: as leader of the Senate, he formally demands that Octavian surrender his legions. Octavian asks why he would do that; as resentful as the Senate might be of his recent action, there's not much they can do about it. So Cicero breaks the news that Brutus and Cassius are returning to Rome with twenty legions: "How many legions do you have? Four, is it?" Octavian remains expressionless as Cicero speculates that Brutus and Cassius are pissed at being named murderers. "They were named so because they are so," Octavian insists weakly, but Cicero's point is that if Octavian disarms quickly, Brutus might cut him some slack when he returns. "Let us not contemplate the alternative," Cicero says, by which he means, "Let us contemplate the alternative." Cicero rises from his chair. Agrippa does the same, because he doesn't know Cicero as well as we do. But Cicero only wants to contemplate: "A war between you and Brutus would be short and bloody. And not to your advantage," he spells out. And leaves. Octavian's lip quivers. Once he's alone with his seconds, they try to look on the bright side. But as Octavian points out, even if Brutus's numbers are exaggerated, and even if they raise new troops in the meantime, they'll be untrained. For once, Octavian has to admit that he doesn't know what to do. Someone's just learned that anticipating the moves of all the players gets trickier when you're one of them. Enter Octavian's salvation in the form of, believe it or not, his mother. "Hello, boys," she chirps, as though she's brought them sandwiches and juice boxes. "Why so glum? Has someone died?"
Servilia is writing a letter to Brutus, and sending along a ring that belonged to his father and grandfather. Brutus Senior claimed that the ring was made of gold from the crown of the last king. As her voice-over continues by saying that she's passing the ring along, we see that Brutus, Cassius, and their army are about to cross into Greece.
Meanwhile, in his tent, Mark Antony and his generals -- including a moody Lepidus -- have just settled on a plan for marching into Rome. I miss Posca. I hope Antony didn't eat him. Of course, their whole plan is about to be knocked into a cocked hat by changing circumstances, right about now. Antony is called outside. As he watches, Julii Cooper herself rides right into his camp, sitting sidesaddle and attended by a few slaves. She dismounts in front of him. Neither says a word for a while, because they'd rather just half-smile uncertainly at each other. Finally, Julii Cooper remarks, "I'm not sure about the beard." Antony cracks one of his full smirks, and they mack. The beard doesn't seem to be too much of an impediment.
In his tent afterward (if you know what I mean), Antony asks Julii Cooper how she got there all by herself. "Oh, not alone," she tells him smugly. I guess they didn't have much time to talk beforehand.
We have to wait until the morning to find out what Julii Cooper means. Antony's troops stand assembled in his camp. The man himself comes out of his tent, draped in furs over his armor, to see Octavian on horseback. The younger man dismounts, and they stand there facing each other for a long moment, neither saying a word. We're supposed to think that they're about to throw down. Given Antony's new beard and Octavian's new portrayer, I wonder if they're both going to say "Who the fuck are you?" Then, at the exact same time, each reaches for the other's hand and they embrace like brothers. Over one another's shoulders, Octavian swallows his bile, and Antony smirks the smirk of a man who just won an ally he plans to kill the second he no longer needs him. I never thought I'd say this, but well played, Julii Cooper. Well played. And I just figured out what was wrong with Brutus's plan.
At the Collegium, the Vorenus family -- including Pullo and Eirene -- are sitting down to dinner. Pullo's just finished telling some bad joke that Eirene thinks isn't funny. Still, he laughs boisterously until Gaia, filling their glasses, gives him a disapproving look. He quiets down in a hurry after that. Kind of a telling little moment, although nobody notices. The kids come in, carrying dinner, and join the adults at the table. Vorenus says that it smells good, and Vorena the Elder smiles that she hopes he likes it. He dishes some up and raises his glass with a toast to family. They all tuck in. And then the camera ducks behind Vorena's back to show that she's making the devil-horns sign with one hand. Either that's the ancient Roman equivalent of fingers-crossed, or she's a Crüe fan.
The previews for week would have us believe that they're going to show us an actual battle. I'll believe it when I see it.