Rome TV Show - Pompey's Circumstance - Rome Photos & Videos, Rome Reviews & Rome Recaps | TWoP

Aired 10-08-2005

Pompey's got Caesar right where he wants him: outnumbered, surrounded, desperate, weak, and trapped. The final battle is at hand. Naturally, Pompey loses, because that's what he does. Pompey himself survives, but his coalition shatters as Cato goes his own way and Cicero and Brutus surrender themselves to Caesar, who's all happy about another chance to do his "magnanimous in victory" dance. Stranded on an island in the middle of the sea that's little more than a sandbar, Vorenus and Pullo show us all what wussy wimps the people on Lost really are. Seriously, do you see Michael using bloated corpses for pontoons? Let alone a fair portion of the deck? You do not. Anyway, they wash up on another beach right in front of Pompey, who reluctantly takes them in while his greatly diminished party is fleeing to Egypt. Meanwhile, back in the city this show is nominally about, Julii Cooper is still using Octavia to suck up to Servilia. But Octavia's loyalties may soon be in question, seeing as how she and Servilia are now having of the sex. You heard me. And Niobe and Lyde make up, for no apparent reason other than to give the former some screen time. Vorenus has a chance to capture Pompey, but decides against it. He and an irate Pullo return to Caesar empty-handed instead. Caesar gets madder than we've ever seen him at being denied his best "magnanimous in victory" dance ever, but refrains from punishing two men who so clearly have the writers on their side. Except he says "gods" instead of "writers." Pompey reaches Egypt safely, but before he can set foot on dry land, he's betrayed and quite unambiguously killed. It was nice to be unspoiled for that. And of course by "unspoiled" I mean "almost completely ignorant of Roman history." I'm learning, though. And isn't this show really just out to educate us a little? Between the lesbian love scenes, I mean?

You know how beaches on TV are always white, sandy, and pristine? This one isn't, so much. The sand is a muddy brown, littered with seashells and bits of wood and canvas and dead guys (and bits of dead guys), all along the high tide line for hundreds of yards. Worst tourist brochure ever. But it looks welcome enough for the two figures who are struggling up from the surf towards dry land. And if you haven't figured out that I'm talking about Vorenus and Pullo, take some time to go back and read the last six recaps. They collapse, exhausted, onto the beach. And then we get a nice aerial shot of the place they've fetched up, which is a low, narrow atoll that can't be more than a mile long. Nothing but beach to the place, really. Cozy.

Hey, we haven't had a subtitle in a while. This one reads "Caesar's camp in Greece." Notice how we don't get a date this time. Which is understandable, since the season started in 52 B.C. and the episode ends with an event that my research (read "Google") tells me occurred in 48 B.C. I hope it's not giving away too much to say that. The producers are clearly keeping the audience on a need-to-know basis as regards the timeline. Anyway, Vorenus and Pullo would no doubt be disappointed to learn that, had they reached their intended destination, they would now be feasting richly upon campfire-roasted rat and enjoying the ambience provided by the screams of wounded men. Nice charred stump, there, dudeus. How'd you get that before the invention of gunpowder? ["A really specific curse?" -- Wing Chun] Posca's out among the men, ladling water from a pot over a fire and carrying it toward Caesar's tent...

...where the conqueror is poring over maps and trying to figure out his move with Mark Antony. So obviously Mark Antony's ship made it safely across the Adriatic; otherwise, I probably wouldn't have heard about him before seeing this show. Posca announces that he's ready to conduct Caesar's ablutions, only to be ignored. He points out, "Maps never redraw themselves, if that's what you're waiting for." I like Posca. I'm glad Mark Antony didn't kill him to prevent him from tattling. Caesar chuckles, because a sassy slave is always welcome when you find yourself in real-life checkmate. Mark Antony agrees with Posca that they'll just have to stand and fight. "And beat them," Caesar adds. Mark Antony goes along with this, but the falsity of his bravado becomes apparent the moment Caesar turns his back on him. "Maybe 'wicked old harpy' was a little harsh," he thinks to himself. Mark Antony leaves the boss to his shave. "Try to avoid bloodshed this time," Caesar warns Posca. I don't know how that expanse gets shorn without a riding lawn mower in the first place. "Wait a while and Pompey can shave you instead," Posca sasses. Pompey's pretty old, though. He might not want to commit that kind of time.

By M. Giant

As for Pompey: instead of thinking about shaving Caesar, he's having a rich feast in his tent, listening while his inner circle talks about how they'll divide up the provinces among their supporters. Pompey warns, "We are cooking rabbits that have not been caught." Cato, who's gotten hold of a rather plain breastplate to wear over what looks like an old black t-shirt, points out that the rabbit is "cornered, starving, and has lost near two thousand men." Pompey asks Brutus what's bringing him down, and Brutus explains that, while he won't suffer tyrants, Caesar was once like a father to him. "I feel for you," Cato says. "When do we strike?" Porcius Cato, grief counselor. Pompey says that they've pretty much finished striking; they just need to keep Caesar pinned down for a month or so until the remains of his army disintegrates. But the others around the table aren't on board with that plan, insisting that honor requires them to prevail by force. Poor Pompey. He finally gets over his stupid overconfidence, and his guys just push him back in.

Back home, the Town Crier's doing his thing. "News! From! Greece!" he headlines. He announces that although Mark Antony is safe, most of the ships sent to help Caesar were lost at sea, and now Caesar is outnumbered and surrounded: "The forces of the Republic and Senate and of Pompey Magnus confidently expect a decisive victory to follow shortly." Of course, it's easy to forget that, back then, the only way for news to travel from Greece to Rome was for someone to physically carry it, so by the time this is being announced, Pompey's "decisive victory" has already happened. Or, you know, whatever else might have occurred, not to give anything away. But I don't really have a problem with a little timeline-futzing in the interest of making the events seem roughly contemporaneous. However, when I start thinking of how a lot of the other stuff in this episode could have happened in less time than it would have taken Vorenus and Pullo to dehydrate to death, I get a headache. Anyway, Julii Cooper is being carried past the Town Crier in a litter, and she listens to the news with interest. No doubt merely because it affects her directly.

Julii Cooper arrives home and finds Octavia feeding a bird on a perch. (The bird's on a perch, I mean, not Octavia.) Julii Cooper bitches at her daughter about the poor protection force that Timon arranged for her. And with Caesar soon to be dead, "[they] may as well be lying naked in the street." Octavia, accustomed by now to her mother's drama-empress ways, doesn't bother looking up from her bird-feeding until Julii Cooper sends her to go ask Servilia for some of her men to beef up security. "Why?" Octavia asks. Julii Cooper explains again about the need for extra manpower, but Octavia means why does she have to be the one to do it. "Well, as if I would go begging to Servilia? I think not." I love her "I'm above it, but you're not" attitude. As does Octavia, except not. Julii Cooper thinks Servilia would never refuse after the lovely gifts she sent. Octavia remembers that visit and looks away, embarrassed. Julii Cooper asks, "Why, what did she say?" What, she didn't already debrief Octavia the minute she walked in the door last time? I think not. Octavia insists that Servilia said nothing. "You're very arrogant, that's all," she says. "Think you can buy her friendship with stud slaves and tortoises?" "And six barrels of ice," Julii Cooper reminds her. In any case, Octavia's not on board. Julii Cooper whines, "You'd rather be gang-raped by slavering proles while your mother's house burns down around you?" Octavia claims to be past caring. She complains about Julii Cooper's attitude constantly changing with Caesar's fortunes and says, "I just want this vile war to be over, one way or the other." Julii Cooper says that the war is over, and that's why Octavia has to go to Servilia. Where do these poor people get their spoilers?

Niobe is doing some ancient Roman cooking when Lyde comes in. There's some tension-filled dialogue where Lyde compliments the new décor, and Niobe asks her sister if she needs money. "Turns out your man backed the right horse," Lyde snots. Someone hasn't been paying attention to the news. Or, more likely, this scene was supposed to go elsewhere. Oops. Niobe says she doesn't know if Vorenus is alive or dead. Lyde apologizes, and says she's tired of being mad at Niobe: "You're all I've got." Tearful embrace. Well, that was the shortest freeze-out ever. Just long enough for Vorenus and Niobe to have some good sex. Mind you don't piss her off again, Niobe.

Ooh, now this is a pretty shot. Off in the distance, Pullo is hip-deep in the surf, working his way along the shoreline and making like Rupert with a sharpened stick. Angry storm clouds billow behind him as the camera tracks to follow, until our view of him is cut off by Vorenus in the near foreground, sitting on the beach and scratching at a flat stone with his short sword. As Pullo fishes back into view, Vorenus calls out that they'll die of thirst before hunger. Crestfallen, Pullo comes back in, suggesting that they could drink the blood of the dead men who washed up before them. I'm sure Vorenus would have some philosophical or moral objection to this, but he merely tells Pullo that it would be too salty, and is probably past its sell-by date anyway. Pullo finds a sword belt and straps it on, saying, "Everything will be fine." Vorenus looks irritated that Pullo didn't get the memo. "This is where we die," he insists. Pullo asks what Vorenus is writing, and Vorenus says it's a message to Niobe. Pullo thinks that's a good idea, and asks him to say hi to J. No for him as well. "If there's space," Vorenus mutters. Nice. Probably the only rock on the island, too.

Octavia's getting all prettied up to go to Servilia's house. It's not like that, though. Not yet, anyway. Julii Cooper comes in and comments on her efforts (well, the slaves' efforts), and Octavia says, "If I am to be a beggar, I will not look like one." Julii Cooper says she's not complaining, even though Octavia will remind Servilia "what an old trout she's become." She says she's just glad to see Octavia looking nice, "for once," adding, "You do so often insist on playing the frump." As Julii Cooper leaves, Octavia wonders why she ever does anything nice for her mother at all.

When Octavia arrives at Servilia's house, they make a bit of small talk about each other's families before Octavia says she's been sent to ask a favor. She says that Julii Cooper is worried about what will happen after the upcoming battle in Greece. "Understandably," Servilia says. "She has enjoyed her ascendancy a little too well." Octavia asks Servilia to loan them some muscle. Barely hesitating, Servilia agrees and orders one of her slaves to go and make it so. Octavia thanks her, and starts to say that this wasn't her idea, but Servilia simply says, "She shall have what she needs." Servilia's generosity moves Octavia to tears. Lots of them, actually, as she sobs freely that the Coopers don't deserve Servilia's kindness. Octavia tries to pull herself together. "I must look a fright," she says. Servilia, now kneeling in front of Octavia's seat, jokingly agrees, and then assures her she looks lovely. Octavia decides it's time to go, and gets up to leave. "My mother will be worried," she lies when Servilia comments on the brevity of the visit. As Octavia stands there, Servilia rises and walks to her slowly, gazing deeply into her soul with an expression that looks rather like lust. Octavia appears not unaffected by the scrutiny, and even less unaffected when Servilia pulls her into an embrace that is more than an auntly one. Plus it goes on forever, which is always good recappin.' Hug, hug, hug. The sultry bassoons of the Seductive Wiles of an Older Woman tootle on the soundtrack as Octavia wonders what just happened. "Thank you," she says into Servilia's frank stare, and heads on out of there. Uh, she'll be in her bunk.

In his tent, Pompey stands to his armor and tells someone off-camera, "Send to Rome. Tell them the decisive battle begins today." Or, several weeks ago, by the time the news reaches the city.

In his own tent, Caesar's nap is interrupted by a soldier who tells him, "Pompey's legions are in the field in full battle array." Caesar chides the man for failing to salute, and gives the order to sound the assembly and prepare his horse. The soldier dashes back out, and Posca is surprised to hear they're going to fight: "We are outnumbered three to one on foot, five to one on horse, and what uninjured men we have are scared and hungry and desperate." It's kind of a long speech, but since Caesar is washing his face, there's plenty of time to get it all out. Caesar says that's their advantage. "I was not aware irony had military usage," Posca sasses. Caesar spells it out: "We must win or die. Pompey's men have other options." Well, when you look at it that way. It might also help that Pompey's men have been drafted from all over Europe, have the unit cohesion of dryer lint, and are being led by an uninspired, plodding has-been, but let's keep this moving.

And so begins the big montage. Alone in his tent, Caesar prays to a framed mosaic of the skull-balancing-on-a-wheel image from the title sequence. Oh, now that makes sense. Not.

Pompey washes his face. If the battle were a race to do that, Caesar would be doomed.

Caesar slices his hand open with a dagger. Jeez, who wants to go into battle with a cut hand? It's just going to get all sweaty and dirty and probably keep opening and sting like hell and you're liable to drop something right when you're trying to kill somebody.

Pompey is lashed into his armor by slaves.

Caesar lets his cut drain into a basin as a blood sacrifice. I'm actually a little surprised he bothers at all with religion when no one's around to see it. How refreshingly uncynical of him.

Pompey receives his scabbard and his ornate black helmet.

Caesar wraps his hand in a rich silk scarf. Does the man have no common sense at all? That's a nice scarf he's ruining.

Pompey tries to look like a bad-ass in his helmet. Mainly, he looks like the old guy at the costume party who's going to need three people to help him up when he gets drunk and trips over the cat.

Caesar stands over his slave, his hand now unwrapped. A fast healer, that Caesar. "Goodbye, Posca," he says, and leaves the tent. Outside, he uses a soldier as a stepstool to climb up onto his white stallion, and leads his frightened men into battle. And here it gets all slo-mo and impressionist, as the Thirteenth heads right-to-left under the Golden Eagle standard, while Pompey's men go left-to-right beneath Pompey's sun banner. The battle itself is shown as nothing more than a blurry, close-up tangle of swords and shields and helmets while men grunt and scream at each other as though from the bottom of a well. It's impossible to tell what's going on. The big battle we've been building up to all season, the battle of Pharsalus, one of the decisive turning points in world history, and they're shooting it like this? I'm sorely disappointed. No sweeping battlefield shots, no sense of the vastness of the armies arrayed against one another, not even any blood. I know that all of these sets and extras and period props and costumes are expensive, but I've been assuming all season that they'd been saving up some of the budget for this. Instead, they totally cheaped out. They went so far as to stick our heroes Vorenus and Pullo on an island somewhere to avoid showing it from what would have been even their extremely limited point of view. Even a shot of a map with little icons running around on it would have been an improvement. In fact, it might have been better not to show the battle at all. I'm dropping the episode's grade a full letter for this. And in a final insult, the battle's resolution is depicted simply by a standard falling into the mud. Great. I come for spectacle and they give me symbolism. Oh, and who does the standard belong to? It's Pompey's sun banner, as if you didn't know.

Caesar and his men ride back into his camp while the wounded men who stayed behind cheer his name. His face looks grave. In his tent, he hands his sword and scabbard to Posca and sits on his bed, exhausted and depressed. "Send to Rome," he says. "Tell them Caesar has won." And has begun referring to himself in the third person. Always a bad sign with a beginning tyrant. Posca leaves him alone, and he lies back on his bed, still in full armor. His eyes close in sleep almost immediately. That's going to be uncomfortable when he wakes up. He'll be a mass of tingles and stiff joints. I wish we'd get to see him try to get up after a nap taken while encased in leather and metal. "Posca, bring me my --" CRASH!

Caesar's opposite number is also reclining in exhaustion, but he's alone in the middle of a field, leaning against the base of a tree. It doesn't even look like a family reunion recently took place there, let alone a battle (but I repeat myself). Pompey's cradling a wounded hand as a soldier rides up, saying that Caesar's men are coming. "I've cut my hand," Pompey non sequiturs. Maybe he should have done that sooner, like Caesar. Worked for him. The soldier insists that they have to go before Pompey gets caught. "It's not deep, but it hurts," Pompey adds. "They will kill you!" the soldier warns. "It's of no consequence," Pompey says. See what he did there, wrapping up both conversations with one line? He could be the Baltar. The soldier cuts and runs, leaving Pompey cut and sitting.

Back in Pompey's tent, Brutus and the Senators (which is coincidentally the name of my 1960s British Invasion band) are trying to figure out what to do . Scipio says they have to consider their own safety now, but Cato -- who's ditched his breastplate, and I'm a little surprised that that wasn't a Ramones t-shirt he was wearing under it -- says that their safety is unimportant and that they have to raise new levies. Brutus, the gloomiest Gus in the room, asks where they're going to do that. Cato says Africa, and Brutus says, "Dear gods, we are fast running out of continents." Heh. Cicero says they're also out of money, which is going to make it tough to buy any loyalty in Africa. "We need buy nothing; we are the Senate of Rrrrome," Cato says. "We are not beaten until we are dead." We now see that Cato's having a knee wound bound up. That old guy was out in the mix? Or did he just walk into a stump? Cicero announces that he's going to go surrender himself to Caesar. Cato screams at him about dignity and honor, and Cicero confesses that he doesn't have quite as much as Cato does. Better wardrobe, though. Scipio warns Cicero that Caesar will kill him. Cicero agrees that's possible. "I'm not afraid to die," he says. "I'm tired. I want to go home." While the others are sadly digesting that, Brutus is looking at Cicero and nodding. "Yes," he says, "my opinions exact."

By M. Giant

Caesar lets his cut drain into a basin as a blood sacrifice. I'm actually a little surprised he bothers at all with religion when no one's around to see it. How refreshingly uncynical of him.

Pompey receives his scabbard and his ornate black helmet.

Caesar wraps his hand in a rich silk scarf. Does the man have no common sense at all? That's a nice scarf he's ruining.

Pompey tries to look like a bad-ass in his helmet. Mainly, he looks like the old guy at the costume party who's going to need three people to help him up when he gets drunk and trips over the cat.

At night, Pompey and his family are roughing it at camp. Cornelia's being a good wife and stepmother, keeping the kids distracted from the howling wildlife by trying to wash the dirt from their faces, and trying to keep Pompey distracted from the totality of his failure by encouraging him to eat. The kids are much easier than the husband, unsurprisingly. Whatever happened to Pompey's grown son Quintus, anyway? Dude's on the cast homepage on the HBO site, but he's been in fewer episodes than J. No has.

Pullo and Vorenus sleep on their raft in the middle of a calm sea. Which is quite an impressive task, considering that they're essentially spooning about a dozen rotting bodies. Still miss Six Feet Under?

While sleeping in a cave the morning, Cornelia is awakened by a little girl stealing a necklace right off of her. "Helen!" she calls, but the girl runs away. And she's not the only one; every soldier in camp is packed up and moving out, leaving only some servants and the Greek guides they hired. Cornelia wakes up Pompey, and he stands there in the mouth of the cave looking even stupider than usual. One of the few guys left is a Greek with a fake metal nose strapped to his face. It's a little creepy. It's not a nose; it's a NOse. I'm sure he'll turn out to be completely honorable and trustworthy, though. The hairstyle like a mass of oily cobwebs only backs that up. Cornelia tells the kids not to be scared, saying that, as they continue on their journey, the first one of them who spots the sea and calls out will have a peach when they get to Amphipoli. Cornelia herself looks a little scared, however. And not just because she's wondering where she's going to find a peach.

Pompey approaches NOse, who is now apparently in charge of the guides. After confirming that they're not far from Amphipoli, Pompey instructs that he's to be kept incognito, and if asked, his name is "Aeneas Mella." I'll try checking into a hotel with that moniker some time. ["Prepare yourself for giggles: as I recall from studying The Aeneid, the name 'Aeneas' is hilarious. Even funnier? Sign Trash in as Dido. HEE hee hee." -- Wing Chun] NOse brings up the question of money, now that he's providing protection as well as guide services. Offended, Pompey angrily says that the man will get paid in Amphipoli, and not before. The guy pleasantly says he was only asking, and says they'll be on their way soon. See? Honorable and trustworthy, if a little grasping.

Wow, Octavia actually is in her bunk. And she appears to be going to a special place, judging by her dreamy expression. And by the folds of her dress pooled up around her waist with a hand rooting around underneath them. (It's her own hand, by the way. I thought I should make that clear, considering what show we're talking about.)

I guess Octavia feels guilty about it later, because she's seen praying ardently before a shrine in her room. Julii Cooper comes in, bitching, "You drive me insane with your wretched muttering." Like anyone invited her. "What is wrong that you must harass the gods so?" Octavia says it's nothing (a word which would be fast becoming an alarm bell to anyone more savvy than Julii Cooper), and Julii tells her to stop it, then. She says that Servilia has invited Octavia over to do some weaving the day. Octavia says she can't, but Julii Cooper says she's already accepted on Octavia's behalf. She cluelessly adds, "I know she's tedious -- I mean, really, weaving -- but we must keep her happy for the time being." "Weaving," eh? So that's what the kids are calling it these days.

Pompey's kids ride along in their donkey cart, looking bored, until they both look up and holler, "The sea!" Cornelia says they'll both get a peach now. What a thrill for them, really. The little caravan comes out of the trees and into the open, and Cornelia apparently decides that it's a good time for the kids to stretch their legs. They go running headlong towards a low cliff overlooking the sea, but before they can pitch over it to their deaths, they stop short. "Look, mama," calls one of them. "Dead people!" But of course it's Vorenus and Pullo washed up on the beach below them, so we know this hasn't suddenly veered into Law & Order: Original Recipe territory. The raft is nowhere to be seen. I guess the Plutonic aether must have leaked out. Glad I wasn't around for that.

Vorenus and Pullo wake up on higher ground, being offered water by NOse. He asks where they're from, and Pullo rasps, "Brindisi." NOse realizes that this makes them Romans, as if the eagles emblazoned on their tunics weren't already a dead giveaway. Pompey and his family are also standing over the men, and Vorenus appears to recognize the ex-great man immediately, managing to glower at him even through thirst-bleared eyes. He's certainly kept his wits about him. Which, as always, is only half-true for Pullo. "I know you," he whispers. Cornelia leads the kids away as Pompey denies knowing them. He tells NOse to leave the castaways water and bread so they can get going. NOse isn't down with abandoning the two men in their weakened condition (because he's honorable and trustworthy), and Pompey -- made nervous by the soldiers' appearance -- tries to insist. But he can't even impose his will on some ratty old guy with a fake nose, who bellows at one of his underlings, "Hey! You want my cock up you or you gonna build a damn fire?" I've always avoided a career in management, but I might reconsider if I got to say things like that. "Hey! You want my cock up you or you gonna put the damn cover sheet on the damn TPS reports before they go out?" The castaways have managed to sit up, and Pullo tells Vorenus, "I told you it'd be all right." But Vorenus is glowering at the back of Pompey, who has wandered off to lean against a tree. "No pleasing some," Pullo mutters. Shout-out?

By M. Giant

On their island, Pullo and Vorenus have found enough energy to get to work. Pullo's dragging the corpses all into a pile, while Vorenus uses scattered timbers from the shipwreck as a frame to lash them to. Or to lash to them, more accurately, since the corpse-to-lumber ratio is quite high. They sky gets darker and darker with storm clouds as they rip up sail fragments to use as rope. Although the blackening sky doesn't exactly bode well for a launch, they haul the S.S. Charnel out past the breakers, climb on, and begin to paddle using driftwood oars. It's quite a heroic effort they've undertaken -- much harder than anything anyone's ever had to do on Survivor, for instance -- but the editor really should have cut away before it became so clear that the tide was carrying them right back to the beach.

Later, Brutus and friends are chilling around a smoldering campfire, when Caesar rides up on his big white horse and hops off, grinning happily at them. "How happy I am to see you!" he says, embracing Brutus in a way that causes Cicero's salute to amusingly zoom right past him. Cicero then gets a hug as well, as Caesar says in relief, "I thought you were dead." Cicero begins his surrender speech, and actually looks rather put out when Caesar insists, "We've merely quarreled a little. Now we are friends again, eh?" Thousands of dead Romans are thrilled to hear it. Cicero starts in on how he can't accept Caesar's generosity, but Caesar has already shifted his attention back to Brutus, who is emotionally apologizing to Caesar. "It is I who am sorry," Caesar says. "I presented you an impossible dilemma. You did only what you thought honorable, I am sure. I kiss you for it," he Mahirs, and plants one on each of Brutus's cheeks. He cuts off Cicero's attempt to speak by asking about Pompey: "Tell me he lives." He thanks the gods when Cicero tells him that Pompey is alive, but is crestfallen when he learns that Pompey, Scipio, and Cato have fled to Africa rather than planning to surrender. "What am I thinking of?" Caesar chides himself. "Asking you questions when you must be so hungry and thirsty." Way to rub it in, there. He insists that the two surrender monkeys join him in the officer's mess. I suppose news of the other 250-odd Senators can wait until after the salad course.

Quite a loud, noisy banquet is going on in Caesar's tent. I guess the food problem has been solved. Interesting how they can't afford to show a battlefield, so reversals of fortune in war on this show are reflected in the quality of the catering. The party falls silent when Caesar leads Brutus and Cicero into the tent. Mark Antony looks particularly disapproving. Caesar scoots a couple of officers off the bench to make room for himself and his guests, and sits to Mark Antony, giving him a sharp not one word out of you look as he does so. He hands a loaf of bread to Brutus, who breaks it. Which in turn breaks the silence, as the conversation ramps up again. Good idea, Caesar, keeping both of Brutus's hands occupied when he's sitting right to you. Keep doing that.

At Pompey's camp, Pompey's telling his kids stories about the time he went lion hunting with King Ptolemy of Egypt. As traveling merchants do. Over by another fire, Vorenus and Pullo have regained enough strength to sit upright on stools and take some food. NOse goes over to join them. Vorenus asks in his normal voice, "Tell me something: what is the name of that Roman?" NOse fakes that his boss's name is Aeneas Mella. "What do you hear of Caesar and Pompey?" Vorenus presses. NOse says, "They fought, I heard." Pullo wants to know who won. Because Pompey's the kind of guy who would celebrate a victory by fleeing in disguise across Greece at the head of an unprotected mule train. Octavian would be ashamed of his tutor. NOse chuckles, "I was going to let you in anyway." Pullo's confused, until NOse explains that he'd like to enlist the two soldiers to help him to take Pompey's people down, turn in the man himself, and split the reward down the middle. "That's not a bad idea," Pullo tells Vorenus, who simply says to NOse, "Walk away and do not speak of this again." Pullo makes this weary, "Why oh why must I be saddled with Mister Honor all the time?" face. NOse gets pissed, thinking that Vorenus wants to take Pompey and the reward all by himself: "Fuck you, not going to happen." "Don't," says Pullo, who knows Vorenus a lot better than that, which earns him a "Fuck you" of his own. Vorenus stands up and tells NOse, "When I am finished speaking, you will turn and run that way." "What about this way?" NOse sneers, grabbing his crotch. Undeterred, Vorenus says, "Do not stop until you are out of my sight, and do not delay, or I will kill you." NOse asks Pullo what's up with Vorenus, and Pullo just shrugs pleasantly. "I am finished speaking," Vorenus says, and turns to walk away. NOse stands and draws his own knife, because he's seen The Princess Bride and knows Vorenus is bluffing and is still too weak to do anything. Vorenus, however has not seen The Princess Bride, and whirls to jam his sword through NOse's neck before he can make another move. That gets even the Pompeys' attention. "Bit harsh, isn't it?" Pullo says mildly, never having gotten up, or even stopped eating. "Fair enough deal he was offering, I thought."

By M. Giant

Cornelia approaches Pompey and asks why they're stopping so early. Pompey says it'll be dark soon anyway, like it was his idea. Cornelia asks who the castaways are, and Pompey snaps, "How should I know? Who cares?" He apologizes for his tone, and says, "All will be well, I assure you." How anyone refrains from killing him every time he says that, I have no idea.

Sitting on the ground in the middle of the camp that's taking shape around them, Pullo's figured it out. Sort of: "That man looks exactly like Pompey Magnus. That's why I thought I'd met him." "Don't point," Vorenus snaps at him. "Never!" Pullo gasps in the British sense of saying "No fucking way!" "Caesar's gonna drown us in gold!" he exalts. Well, that sounds...hot. Of course, they still don't have their voices back, so the entire exchange takes place in hoarse whispers. Which adds an extra layer of security to the six-foot TV sound barrier surrounding them. Pullo starts to get up and make a move, but collapses back on the ground. "Cac!" he grunts. "What do we do?" Vorenus doesn't know yet. Better hope that sitting around incapacitated remains a viable option for a while longer.

Octavia and Servilia lie in bed together, asleep. So Octavia presented Servilia with Biggus Dickus the well-hung slave, but Servilia's having sex with Octavia instead? She's like a little kid who gets a huge, extravagant gift, and then only wants to play with the box. No pun intended.

For the second time, Pompey awakens early in the morning to find Roman soldiers leaving him. "Go back to sleep," Vorenus tells him, and finishes loading up a pack horse. Pompey rolls over and obeys as Pullo and Vorenus head out.

Pullo's got plenty to say about the matter. Once they're well on the trail, he complains to Vorenus. "Unwise and unfriendly, I call it," he carps. Vorenus listens patiently as Pullo vents about the reward they just pissed away: "Never mind horses. Never mind gold. Caesar would have given us farms and fields and orchards and great flocks of slaves and cattle and Dis knows what." Vorenus cuts him off, saying, "Pompey Magnus is not some damn slave to be sold for money." No compunctions about robbing him blind, mind you. "Don't see why not," Pullo complains. "There's a great deal you don't see," Vorenus says. "There's a great deal he doesn't see, neither," Pullo grumbles to the pack horse. "Tell the recapper I'm a fucking mule," the pack horse responds.

Back at Caesar's camp -- which I don't know how everyone is always able to find so easily ["you know Romans and their roads all the time -- they were probably sticklers for signage, too" -- Wing Chun] -- the two soldiers are presenting themselves to the boss. Vorenus stands at attention before the big old desk, Pullo behind him and to one side, and Mark Antony as a sort of one-man peanut gallery. "You and only twelve other men survived that storm," Caesar exposits to them. "Out of five thousand. You're being kept alive for some great purpose." Pullo starts to say something modest, but shuts up quickly after looks from Vorenus and Antony. "He has some interesting news," Antony says of Vorenus, and sits down to watch the show. Vorenus duly reports that they met Pompey, family, and servants on the way. "A mule train," Mark Antony deadpans. "Priceless." Vorenus adds that Pompey plans to sail for Egypt. Oh, and now we see that Posca is there as well. Caesar asks if Pompey didn't have any soldiers with him. "Not one man left, not one," Mark Antony confirms. "Oh, poor wretch." Clearly he's heard this story already. Caesar leans way back in his chair and asks why Vorenus didn't capture him, then. "Now, here's the onion," Mark Antony interjects, gunning for a recapper gig. Vorenus explains that Pompey was weak and broken, and he saw no need to take him in: "I'd like to add that Legionary Pullo took no part in my decision, sir." Caesar, starting to get really pissed, says that as long as Pompey is alive, their enemies may still rally around him: "As long as he can be propped on a horse, he is dangerous. But you saw no need to apprehend him?" Vorenus says he didn't. Caesar shoots to his feet and sputters, "Who by the sons of Dis gives you the right to make such judgement?" Vorenus calmly asks for Caesar's pardon. Caesar says he ought to have Vorenus scourged and crucified. Vorenus remains expressionless, while Pullo quietly reacts as though he thinks that would be bad. After a nice, long glare, Caesar reminds Vorenus that mercy is Caesar's thing, and that he doesn't want any whippersnappers biting his moves. Or something like that. "Dismissed," he says. Vorenus and Pullo salute, turn, and exit in crisp unison.

By M. Giant

Pompey comes over and angrily asks what's going on. I suppose if someone performed such a crude field tracheotomy in front of my kid, I'd be pretty pissed too. Vorenus quickly explains NOse's plan as Pullo rises. Pompey asks who Vorenus is to be such a good friend to him so quickly. "I am Lucius Vorenus, Prefect in Evocati, the Thirteenth Legion of Gaius Julius Caesar, and Titus Pullo, Legionary of same." Pompey introduces himself as Aeneas Mella. Vorenus looks pissed that nobody ever seems to have as much honor as he does, and steps to Pompey, telling him he's to consider himself a prisoner of the Thirteenth Legion. "I'm just a merchant," Pompey scoffs, and Pullo says, "We know who you are, sir." Vorenus calls out to the rest of the camp, saying that he owns them now. He orders two of the men to bury NOse, and the rest not to let Pompey's family leave. Well, that was easy. Pompey asks for a private word with Vorenus.

Pompey, trying to keep up the charade, says that he was in the army years ago, which may have been where Vorenus met him. He gets Vorenus to reminisce about an old battle that the Thirteenth fought once, and Pompey 's doing a nice job of building a rapport here. "Caesar can fight, I'll give him that," Pompey says. "I remember, when he was not much older than you, I sent him to winter quarters in, uh, where was it?" Nice subterfuge, there, dudeus. Vorenus asks Pompey how he came to this. "Surely Pompey had Caesar at great disadvantage," he prompts. Pompey confirms it. "It didn't seem possible to lose," he says. "That's always a bad sign." Sure, now he gets it. He takes a stick and starts drawing a little diagram for Vorenus in the dirt, explaining how the battle went. "I sent my horses at his right flank," says merchant Aeneas Mella, "which you'll agree is perfectly correct." Vorenus does agree, although he fails to point out that the "correct" strategy against Caesar almost always turns out to be disastrous. And indeed, Pompey's horses were repelled by one cohort of Caesar's reserves and crashed right back into Pompey's left flank. "Rolled up my line like a carpet," he says. "Put the whole damned army to flight. And here I am. That's how Pompey Magnus was defeated. That's how the Republic died." I can't say I'm surprised that Pompey isn't any better at covert ops than he is at military engagements. Vorenus, looking devastated at how the mighty have fallen, tells Pompey good night. Pompey tells him to wait, and tearfully begs Vorenus to let him take his wife and children to Egypt. Vorenus goes off to consider. Alone, Pompey hums distractedly, looking at the cloud-veiled moon reflected in the sea below. It's hard to say whether he's humming because he's satisfied that he's pulled one over on a would-be captor, or to calm himself, or because he's thinking, "Oooh, shiny!"

By M. Giant

No sooner have Pullo and Vorenus gone than a shocked Mark Antony says to Caesar that Vorenus should be made an example of. So that other soldiers don't let Pompey go when they randomly run into him in completely impossible circumstances. Hate for someone else to make the same mistake later on. Caesar says that he would punish any other man. "But those two...they found my stolen standard. Now they survive a wreck that drowned an army and find Pompey Magnus on a beach. They have powerful gods on their side, and I will not kill any man with friends of that sort." Yes, I believe those gods are named Bruno Heller, John Milius, and Full-Season Contract. That dispensed with, Caesar announces that they're off to Egypt...

By M. Giant

...where Pompey is just arriving. You can tell by the palm trees on the horizon. He sits in the bow of a small launch as it's rowed toward shore, while Cornelia and the kids watch from behind, still on board the ship on which they sailed here. Pompey climbs over the side into the knee-deep water and begins wading slowly toward the beach, where a welcoming party awaits. One of them is a soldier of European appearance in an unfamiliar uniform, but since we're in Egypt, I think we can safely assume that the outfit is not Peruvian. He hands his helmet to another man and walks to meet Pompey in the shallow water. He introduces himself as one Lucius Septimius, a name rife with significance to anyone who knows their Roman history better than I do. But I shall recap the following scene anyway, in case you're not. Septimius reminds Pompey that he was with him in Spain, and Pompey pretends to remember. He asks what Septimius is doing there, and the answer is, "Working for the Gyppos...A man's got to earn his salt, eh?" Yes, dropping ethnic slurs is hard work. Pompey complains about the poor welcoming party, and Septimius simply comments that the Egyptians are "funny people, eh?" Pompey agrees, and clasps hands with Septimius with a hearty "Onward, friend." But while holding Pompey's arm, Septimius draws a knife with his free hand and plunges it into Pompey's torso. Let it be said of Pompey that he was once a great warrior, a powerful Roman, a towering figure of history. But he had the worst friends ever. Back on the ship, Cornelia covers the children's eyes so that they can't see what happens . Which is Pompey sinking helplessly to his knees in the surf. Septimius says, "I'm sorry, sir," and whacks off Pompey's head with a scimitar. I don't think there's going to be any coming back from that. The screen goes black for a long time before the credits start. I imagine Cornelia saying, "Yeah, I don't think we'll go ashore just yet."

Rome TV Show - Pompey&apos;s Circumstance - Rome Photos &amp; Videos, Rome Reviews &amp; Rome Recaps | TWoP

Rome TV Show - Pompey's Circumstance - Rome Photos & Videos, Rome Reviews & Rome Recaps | TWoP