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Caesar's on his way back to Rome, again, still, some more. Which puts a lot of folks in positions of varying awkwardness. Vorenus is grumpy about being made a traitor to Rome, but follows his orders anyway while quizzing Pullo on how to get his wife to like him. Pompey, unable to mount a credible defense of the city against Caesar's one legion in time, calls a tactical (and, he promises, temporary) retreat, declaring that anyone who sticks around is an enemy of the Republic. This goes as well as anything else Pompey ever plans, as the soldier he's assigned to secure the treasury loots it instead. Julii Cooper, as the richest and most powerful member of the pro-Caesar faction in the city, has her hands full between juggling entreaties for protection from other Caesareans and arranging the death of her daughter's pesky ex-husband. Brutus casts his lot with Pompey, although he's unable to convince his mother to do the same. And Vorenus's wife Niobe is trying to be faithful to her husband, although the father of her child isn't making it easy. At the end, Vorenus and Niobe make up, Pullo finds himself in possession of the entire Roman treasury, and Caesar's legion continues to ride toward Rome. He's totally going to get there one of these days, you guys. I'm serious. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Big big thanks to Jessica for doing an outstanding job filling in for me last week. I was hoping that the first scene of this week's episode would afford me some kind of smooth segue into expressing that sentiment, but instead we're starting right out with a beating. Ah, well. Julii Cooper is delivering a vigorous whipping to a bald male servant. And I'm sorry to say this, but the empire-waisted dress she's rocking makes it looks like a beating isn't all that she's about to deliver. But that's beside the point. What did the servant do to piss Julii off so? Nothing, actually; she's just taking out her anger at Caesar on the poor slave, Castor. She's doing it in front of Brutus, who's hanging out at her house, for some reason, and I think it's kind of rude of her not to offer her guest a few licks of his own. Octavian arrives in time to be served some fresh, hot exposition, which Brutus has to help provide, since Julii Cooper's exertions are leaving her breathless. Brutus marvels that by marching on Rome with one legion, Caesar is committing not only treason, but suicide. Julii Cooper finishes her whipping and slumps into a seat, spent.
Ah, Cato and his off-the-shoulder toga. It always makes him look like some nocturnal but terribly confused party animal shuttling back and forth between the club and the nursing home. Cato frets his way into Pompey's presence, wondering what's going to happen now that Caesar's officially in Italy. Pompey mildly starts reminiscing about some pirates he defeated back in the day, but Cato isn't interested. Pompey assures the Senator that his own legions are gathering as they speak. They'll easily outnumber the single legion that Caesar is already returning with, as Caesar's other legions are stuck on the other side of the Alps until spring. "Without question, the poor man is dead," Pompey assures Cato. I'm quickly learning that the calmer Pompey appears, the more reason his allies have to worry. Judging by Cato's expression, he's way ahead of me on that score.
Caesar doesn't look dead. In fact, he looks quite healthy as he gives orders from horseback to Vorenus and Pullo while his legion rides by in a column. Caesar, his helmet tied tightly onto his head in order to keep the sheer size of his cranuim from popping it off and denting a celestial sphere (that joke will make more sense in a few pages, I promise), instructs Vorenus to take a detachment of "Ubian cavalry" and scout the roads between there and Rome until he meets resistance. Caesar also hands over a large, ornate scroll case, which he says contains a proclamation that Vorenus is to read to any civilians he encounters. From Caesar's side, Mark Antony smirks, "If you encounter no resistance, go directly to the Forum and nail it to the Senate door." Yeah, like that's going to happen. Caesar might as well post his little proclamation on his blog, right? Caesar specifies no raping, pillage or burning (presumably since they're on Italian soil and all), and dismisses his officers. After Vorenus and Pullo salute and ride off, Caesar asks Mark Antony what's eating Vorenus. Mark Antony explains that Vorenus thinks they've all committed a crime that will be punished by the gods. "He may be right," Caesar says. Mark Antony points out that it's only a crime if they lose. Caesar insists that he's only protecting his rights, and asks if they can trust Vorenus. Mark Antony assures Caesar that Vorenus's loyalty to Caesar's XIIIth legion means "he'd follow the Eagle up Pluto's arse." Charming.
Vorenus and Pullo ride across the Italian countryside at the head of their cavalry detachment. The other horsemen wear black clothes and fur hats instead of fancy red capes and Roman helmets. Sucks to be Ubian. But at least Pluto's arse does not loom on the horizon.
Niobe's in her little shack. She appears to be preparing the meal, a process that at this time in history no doubt took a week or more. Some dude comes in and looks at her all stalker-like. She doesn't seem too happy to see him. He ignores her complaint that she told him not to come. And it's obviously not the first time he defied that request, since they've got that baby there. The guy storms across the house to peer at the tyke chilling out in the incredibly unsafe crib (those slats are way too far apart, and they obviously haven't been sanded properly. The things you notice when you have a kid). Niobe repeats her demand that he get out and stay out, but he's not buying: "You loved me once; you'll love me again." Niobe lies that that isn't true, which would be more convincing without that tear rolling down her cheek. Stalker Guy says that Vorenus, like everyone in Caesar's legion, is doomed to be killed as the traitors they are. Niobe says that may be true, but that she made a vow. She continues begging him to go until he shuts her up with a kiss. Just then, the daughter who's being blamed for the baby bursts in, and Niobe finally gets her persistent suitor out of there. Young Vorena's a little grouchy about the guy showing up again, because the last thing she needs is for her mom to get pregnant again and then be expected to take the fall for Niobe's expanding belly in a few more months. She tries to convince Niobe to tell Vorenus the truth about the baby. Hey, what's the worst that could happen? "He will kill us all," Niobe says. So that's a no, then?
Vorenus sits by the campfire at night. Hey, Caesar said no burning! The cavalrymen are loudly drinking and yammering nearby. Pullo approaches the Centurion with a flask, but Vorenus wants something else from his sidekick. No, not that. He recalls Pullo's boasting about his prowess with the ladies, and now wants his advice on how to handle his own. Vorenus begins by saying that his wife hates him. "What's your question?" Pullo asks. And then there's some Abbott & Costello business while Vorenus corrects Pullo's misimpression that he's trying to get Niobe to hate him on purpose. He's certainly doing a good enough job at it for that to be the case. "I love her," Vorenus insists, "and I require that she love me also. Otherwise I am merely her slave. I cannot tolerate that." Oh, I see. It's all about you. Once Pullo's up to speed, he asks what difference it'll make if Niobe loves Vorenus, since they'll all be dead soon anyway. Vorenus just wants someone to remember his name and make the appropriate offerings when he's gone, as well as pour wine on his grave. Pullo, the ur-homie, says he'll step up if it comes to that. Vorenus is touched, but not too much to say that it's not the same thing. And more to the point, Pullo will be dead as well. So who'll pour wine on Pullo's grave? Ah, the Roman Civil War, when the streets ran red with Merlot.
Julii Cooper and a bent-old-lady servant step outside the gates of her compound, where Timon -- the goaty little man from the premiere -- is waiting, obliging his mistress with a hand kiss. Julii Cooper starts to say she's throwing yet another shindig, but stops short when she realizes that Timon is wearing perfume. "It's horrid," she judges. "Horse shit suits you much better." With that, she gets down to business: she wants Timon to get some guys and provide security for her party guests. Timon asks whether a party's such a good idea right now. "Perfume? Advice? Whatever ?" Julii Cooper sighs. Timon says that it might be wise for Caesar-supporters like Julii Cooper to lie low, given the fact that Caesar is in rather poor odor at the moment, but Julii Cooper refuses to be intimidated. Timon says that means he'll need more guys, and that it's going to cost her. Julii Cooper pretends like he's talking about money, until he gets right up in her grill to say she knows what he really wants. And just in case we don't, he's smirking like Turtle from Entourage as he says it. Julii Cooper gives him a slap upside the face. It's rather anemic, probably because he's too close for her to get any leverage into it. She smacked her daughter way harder than that last week. "You forget your place," she says coldly. Timon says that his place is with his family, whom he would be happy to return to if she only says the word. Julii Cooper agrees that he'll be "properly rewarded," and turns to go back inside, almost but not quite in time to avoid a quick pinch on the boob from her admirer. "Thank you, Domina," he calls after her retreating back.
Vorenus, Pullo, and their little cavalry ride down a hillside at a gallop. Actually, Pullo is in the lead, which I think is because Vorenus's sideways-mohawk helmet makes him less aerodynamic. They stop when they come around a copse of trees and spot a little encampment of red-caped Roman soldiers some distance away. Vorenus realizes that these are Pompey's outriders, which means that they'll all be on crosses in a matter of days. What a Gloomy Gus, with his crucifixion prediction. Pullo says that if that's the case, they're better off dying now. Vorenus reminds Pullo that their orders are to "advance until resistance is met," and resistance is right in front of them, although this "resistance" has thus far neither seen them nor heard their increasingly loud debate. Pullo doesn't care, and calls back to the guys to ask if they're up for a scrap. They loudly holler back that they are, which would alert all but the noisiest campers to their presence. Pullo leads them at full gallop into the camp, hollering with swords unsheathed while Vorenus ineffectually tries to call them back. I don't know why he doesn't threaten to have Pullo crucified for insubordination again. Maybe it's because he owes Pullo for paying for Vorenus's brain surgery on Pullo's dining-room table. Oh, wait, it's the other way around. Now I don't know why Vorenus doesn't kill Pullo right out of his saddle.
Down in the camp, the "outriders" have finally realized that something's up, now that more than a dozen screaming horsemen are practically on top of them. We get our first look at these "soldiers," most of whom can't be a day over fourteen. It's like a middle-school field trip with gladiator costumes. And if you got to this page by Googling that phrase, please step away slowly now. The FBI is on its way. The chaperons try to order their charges to form up and mount a defense, but the boys tail and run while Pullo and his men ride into the camp unhindered. I keep expecting Pullo to call them off when he realizes that they're attacking kids, but even if he cared, he would have to see more than their backs for that to happen, and there's clearly little chance of that. One of the chaperons mounts a horse and makes his escape alone in the commotion.
And then he goes straight to Pompey in Rome, who begins the scene by repeating the news he just heard rather than letting the poor guy have a line on camera: "Caesar's scouts are thirty miles from Rome?" A bunch of Senators are also there, Cato among them, who also repeats the news. Who knows how many times this fact bounced around the room before we joined them? Pompey admits that Caesar's a speedy cuss, although having only one legion with him means that he can move faster. Fewer rest area stops, you see. Should have thought of that before, maybe. Pompey complains, "It is highly irregular. Unethical, even. Gods, it is not even the war season." And I bet Caesar doesn't have a treason license, either. Cicero doubts that Caesar plans to attack Rome directly, but Pompey figures that's exactly what Caesar will do. Which is a problem for Pompey and his supporters, because right now there are only three legions ready to defend Rome. Cicero thinks three against one puts the odds in their favor, but Pompey points out that most of their three legions are either untested Pompey Youth like the ones Pullo scattered like a flock of geese, or veterans of the Gaul campaign who are probably loyal to Caesar. Pompey says that his own regular legions are mustering as they speak, but won't be ready for another four days. That sounds like more than enough time for Caesar to cover thirty miles. And indeed, Cicero confirms that "Caesar is two days away." "You touch it with a needle," Pompey allows. Is that Roman for "no shit, Sherlock"? Pompey declares that they'll simply make a tactical retreat from the city. Cato is not entirely on board with this plan. In fact, he screams at Pompey, "Juno's cunt, do you run mad?" Pompey mildly advises Cato to moderate his tone, and says that they'll rally his troops at Corfinium (wherever that is) and retake the city from Caesar at their leisure. "So, in fact, this is not a humiliating defeat at all, but a rare species of victory?" Cato sneers. Pompey tells Cato that he's done everything correct all along in the military sense. Well, okay, but that doesn't always work if your opponent is doing everything wrong. And anyway, maybe it would have been a good idea to start mustering the troops a little sooner -- say, right after that fiasco in the Forum that you knew would provoke Caesar into attacking? Like me, Cato's not impressed, although he uses fewer words: "You've lost Rome without unsheathing your sword," he roars, squinting at Pompey through one apoplectic eye. "You have lost Rrrrrome!" And you, Cato, have lost your ssssshit!
Later that night, a pissy-party is going on outside Julii Cooper's house, as well. The rabble has built a bonfire in the street. One of them hurls a flaming brand, which sails clear over the compound walls and down into an opening in the ceiling, where it splashes into the small ornamental pool around which Julii and her guests are gathered. Nice shot. I won't point out that any attempt to burn down somebody's pool is probably doomed to failure. It does, however, cause all manner of commotion among Julii Cooper and her guests. She drama-queens that if Timon and his guys weren't there, the Pompeyans would be burning down the house. "Oh, they're not that energetic," Brutus scoffs. But Julii Cooper is not to be appeased. "If Caesar were here right now, I'd stab him in the neck. He's ruined us," she rants. Octavian starts to offer his analysis that "Pompey's position is deceptively weak," but Julii Cooper isn't interested in his thinking. She complains that all of their friends have abandoned them. I was going to say, this is just about the lamest party ever, with a guest list that appears to consist entirely of Brutus and his mother Servilia. But I suppose she probably invited a lot more people who were too scared to show up. Brutus points out that not all of her friends have bailed on her, with which Julii Cooper graciously agrees. Brutus says that it would be tempting to abandon Caesar, but that would give the impression that they are "slaves to fashion." Indeed. Seems like not too long ago that Caesar was the most popular guy in town. Funny how quickly you can turn the citizenry against you just by coming after them with one puny army legion.
Across town, Pompey and his family are getting ready to begin their "tactical retreat." You know, the concept of a "tactical retreat" is often confused with that of "panicked flight," and I'm beginning to think that's Pompey's fault. His wife, the bird-faced Cornelia, gives rather severe instructions to the servants who are being left behind to defend the house. Another servant of Pompey's comes to let him know that everything is ready to go, and they head for the exits. Pompey appears to have a moment where he realizes what's really happening: Pompey the Great, the Hero of Rome, is abandoning his city without a fight. It's obviously a bad moment for him, no matter how brave a face he tries to put on the situation. Cornelia snaps him out of it by reminding him of the Treasury. Pompey tells his servant -- Durio, he calls him -- to take a detachment of soldiers and secure as much gold from the Capitoline vaults as he can in the little time they have.
Outside in the street, Pompey and his family are now even more ready to go, with Himself mounted on horseback and his family -- including a couple of kids, so I was obviously wrong about Pompey's being heirless -- secreted in a curtained litter. They sneak out like thieves in the night. But of course it's all militarily correct night-thief-sneaking.
At home, Julii Cooper takes a look out the peephole in her front gate and pronounces, "Here's a mercy: instead of living out of our lives in shame and disgrace, we are to be raped and beaten and torn limb from limb by a raving mob." A good party hostess always makes the best of unexpected complications. The first thump of a battering ram reports through the room. Julii Cooper offers to let her two guests stay the night, and Servilia gratefully accepts.
Durio supervises a group of soldiers as they load gold bricks into chests underground by torchlight. He bumps into one aging soldier, who drops the bag of coins he's carrying, and gives the man a dirty look as the soldier stoops to try to quickly scoop them back into the ruptured sack. I just said "ruptured sack."
Outside, in the Forum, it's first light as another younger, burlier soldier climbs onto the driver's seat of an oxcart to Durio, who prods the oxen to start walking while the soldier steers. But the steering is not to Durio's liking; he protests that the Appian Gate is the other way. "We're not going to the Appian Gate," the soldier growls. He puts a conspiratorial arm around Durio's shoulders, but the deceptively friendly gesture is merely preparatory to sticking his short sword between a couple of Durio's limbs. Durio then gets dumped onto the paving stones of the empty Forum, twitching his last. There's really no such thing as a safe neighborhood in this town, is there?
While leading horses through a thicket, Pullo's begun tutoring Vorenus in woman-pleasing: "Of course, your best bet for pleasing a woman is the warm, beating heart of an enemy. I mean, women'll say they don't like it, but they do. Makes them wet as October." I have to admit I've never tried that. I'll have to make my wife Trash some enemies for our anniversary. For his part, Vorenus doesn't really want to cut out his own heart, so Pullo suggests talking to Niobe like she's a skittish horse. Also, "Tell her she's beautiful all the time...even when she's not." And Pullo's got one more tip: "When you couple with her, there's a spot, just above her cunny, like a little button. Now, attend to that button and she will open up like a flower." Vorenus, scowling fiercely, demands, "How do you know this of her?" Hee! Pullo suddenly realizes his life hangs in the balance. "All women have them," he says defensively. "Ask anyone!" He gestures to the cavalrymen following behind, none of whom, frankly, look like they'd know a clitoris if it stole their horses. But rather than pursuing further embarrassment, Vorenus nods tightly and walks on.
The oxcart carrying the Roman treasury and a complement of tipsy Roman soldiers makes its way through a cemetery that lies along the road going out of town. As does a pretty young peasant woman, who looks a bit like Jennifer Lopez would if somebody forgot to clean her up and float white rose petals in her crapper. You can see where this is going. The soldier riding escort behind the cart hauls the girl up onto the horse with him while she struggles weakly. Of course, she can't struggle all that hard, because dragging a woman onto a slowly walking horse is tough enough when she's helping. Or so I've heard.
The Pompeyan rabble are still beating on Julii Cooper's front gate with their battering ram, hours later. They either need a better ram or better batterers. Inside the house, Timon and his guys are standing with their swords unsheathed, ready to fight should the mob actually succeed gaining entry within the week or so. Julii Cooper is cheerfully making arrangements for who among them is to kill whom in the event of a successful break-in, so they won't be raped and tortured alive. She uses the tone one employs when discussing seating arrangements at a wedding reception -- and a reception where everyone likes each other, at that. Julii Cooper offers to have her servants kill Brutus and Servilia, but Servilia bravely says they can manage on their own. Octavia says that she would rather not be killed by her mother, which is a good opening to remind everyone that Octavia is still mad at Julii Cooper for busting up her marriage to Glabius. Julii Cooper bitches, "Cerberus is howling for us, and still you plague me with your ridiculous feelings?" Anyway, she spits and pisses on Glabius. Metaphorically. For now, at least. Octavia sneers at her mother to die as she's lived: "With poison brimming in your soul." Octavian interrupts the spat to tell them to listen, but Julii Cooper ignores him in favor of telling her servant Castor to kill Octavia for her when the time comes. Octavia snaps back that she doesn't want to deny her mother one last pleasure. Octavian again yells at them to listen, and this time, they do. The battering has stopped.
Timon, sword drawn, cautiously steps out into the empty street. The gate and walls of the compound are covered with fresh graffiti. I don't read Latin, but I'm pretty sure that none of the sentiments are "Atia is my favorite" or "Julii Cooper rocks the domus." Timon stands there while the bonfire smolders its last among the rabble rubble. Where'd everyone go?
A quick cut to the Town Crier provides the answer as he announces, "Gnaeus Pompey Magnus has left the city. He commands all noblemen and knights to do likewise. Those who remain will be considered enemies of Rome." Must be nice to be in a position to decide that anyone who disagrees with you is a traitor, and then actually be able to enforce it. I'll bet Ann Coulter loves this show. During this timely announcement, Senators and soldiers march through the forum in a ragged column while citizens throw curses and produce at them. And at least one person is mooning them. That didn't happen when I saw Julius Caesar at the Guthrie a few years ago, I can tell you that.
Those in the poorer neighborhoods without the means or the will to evacuate are at least able to afford stuff to board up their doors and windows. Which puts the slaves and peasants of ancient Rome at least in better shape than a fair segment of the population of modern-day New Orleans. Among those working on battening down is Niobe. While she's busy with that, a nosy neighbor comes in to naysay, "Anyone wants to get in, they'll get in." Of which this woman's unwelcome presence is proof. She comments that it looks like Vorenus will be returning after all, and doubts Niobe's weak claims that she's happy about it. Niobe drops the heavy plank she's using to try to block her front window, and Mrs. Kravus apologizes for her flappy lips. Niobe confesses that she tries to love Vorenus, but that she's not sure she wants him to come back. Not even as part of an invading army? Fickle woman. I suppose making the baby wait to nurse until Vorenus goes out for smokes would get trying in a hurry.
Brutus and Servilia have safely made their way home. And it appears that Brutus was among the citizenry who witnessed the departure of Pompey's men, as he recounts the scene to his mother. He angrily uses the word "deserting" twice. "Half the Senate ahorse," he says. Well, Cicero was in a litter and Cato was on foot, so more than half the Senate is out of there, I'd say. Brutus says this puts them in an awkward position. If they stay, they are declaring for Caesar and rebellion. If they go, they're with Pompey and the Senate. "There is no middle ground," he states. What about going in a different direction? Just a thought. Servilia calmly watches him vacillate for a minute between their friendship for Caesar and his loyalty to the Republic. And the latter wins out. "The Republic is more important than any friendship," he insists. I hope Servilia remembers to mention that to Caesar when she sees him. His difficult decision made, Brutus actually seems relieved as he tells Servilia to have her people get ready to leave as soon as possible. But she's not leaving. She tells her shocked son that she's waited eight years for Caesar and she's not leaving now. Brutus reminds her that Pompey has declared the holdouts enemies of Rome. "Caesar might prevail," Servilia says calmly. Brutus says yeah, he might, but eventually some other ambitious fellow will kill Caesar and take his place. Which will make Servilia "the mistress of a dead tyrant. Mother, we know what happens to them." Servilia says that's up to the gods to decide, because she ain't moving. Frustrated, Brutus suggests that if she's so damn horny, she ought to just buy some big macho slave at the market "and have done with it." Just make sure he has a big head and a bad haircut. Brutus looks down in shame at what he just said. Servilia sadly says he'd better go, and tells him not to be angry. "We may be parted for a long time," she understates. Brutus kisses her hand and quickly takes his leave.
Night again. Outside Julii Cooper's compound, a guy with a torch stands at the far end of the street. A female servant waves to him, and then signals for Octavia -- who's been waiting just inside the door with a shawl over her head -- to come out. She hurries off to what is no doubt some illicit assignation with her husband.
Julii Cooper reclines in bed as the old-lady servant comes to report that Octavia's snapped her leash. "I'll put a stop to this nonsense," Julii Cooper spits angrily. Timon, wearing nothing but this weird leather harness, enters and starts to crawl on top of Julii. But she pushes him off her naked boob and sends him off with another job to do. I wonder if he's charging interest.
Octavia and Glabius have met up at some secret place. Which really isn't all that secret, considering that in addition to the boy that Julii Cooper's servant sent to follow them peeking around the corner, there are, like, a dozen servants there. Octavia worries that Glabius hasn't left the city, given his well-known loyalty to Pompey. Glabius promises that he'll be gone by morning, but says he wanted to see her first. And we soon find out what he means by "see," as a tubby little boy dressed as Cupid leads them to a back room, where they are soon seen rolling around naked. Cupid isn't with them any more by this point, of course. At least in the literal sense. Oh, and we can tell their love for each other is pure because they're not making all kinds of weird noises and inventing new positions and shit.
Later, Glabius and a couple of his guys come out of the building just in time to see a noisy mob run past. He's about to head in the other direction, but his path is immediately blocked by Timon and a few torch-bearing henchmen. Glabius turns to head in the other direction, but quickly finds that route blocked as well. He pulls his purse off his belt and tosses it to Timon, saying, "That's all I have." Timon: "Thank you. But this is not a robbery." Glabius realizes Julii Cooper is behind this. Without confirming or denying, Timon says, "I'll give you a moment if there are gods you'd like to speak to." Glabius just asks that his men be allowed to live, but Timon smirks that he has his orders. Glabius asks one of his guys for his sword, and Timon watches calmly while Glabius arms himself. And his calm is well-founded, as Glabius charges his assassin with his sword arm drawn back for a mighty swing. Which he never gets to make, because he's left himself totally open for Timon to stab him viciously in the gut. Glabius falls to the ground. And now one of the guys whose life he begged for doesn't even have a weapon to defend himself. Nice going there, dudeus.
Niobe looks out over the matte painting of the darkened city from her window, singing a lullaby to the baby in her arms.
Pullo and Vorenus lie on their backs to their campfire, under the stars. Pullo, trying to measure the size of a star by peering through a tiny gap between his thumb and index finger, asks what the stars are. Vorenus confidently says, "Holes in the celestial spheres." Now feel free to page back to that gag about Caesar's helmet from earlier. I'll wait here while you laugh. Vorenus adds, "Holes through which the light of the heavens shines." He adds that the stars are big. "They only seem small to us because they're hundreds of miles away." Heh. Pullo asks if a man could climb through one, and Vorenus says sure, but a man could never get up there in the first place. Pullo suggests holding onto a giant bird. Vorenus snickers that it doesn't work that way, but he's out of his depth when Pullo asks why not. "It's philosophy," he says. "It's hard to explain." Meanwhile, any modern-day philosophers watching this wonder what went wrong in the last two thousand years that led to them sitting around and thinking while physicists get to play with the cool supercolliders and stuff. Vorenus rolls over to go to sleep, and Pullo goes back to doing the "I'm crushing your head" thing with Alpha Centauri. Aw, Pullo's getting deep. How cute.
Remember how I said in the very first recap that every street scene on this show was probably going to be a crowd scene? Well, now the show mocks me by presenting shots of several streets in a row, including the Forum, all without a soul in sight. Shut up, show. This isn't over between us.
At Julii Cooper's place, some tubby little merchant and his wife are literally prostrating themselves before the lady of the house, begging for protection. Julii thinks he's with the Pompeyan faction, but the guy points out that Pompey's homies have already left. Julii rather coldly accuses the guy of sticking around because he's afraid of having his stores and factories looted in his absence. Julii Cooper calls Castor over and whispers in his ear, and Castor pronounces, "Five thousand dinarii." I like how the implied taboo against women speaking of money is barely obeyed there. The merchant balks at the figure and looks like he's about to negotiate, but Julii Cooper breathlessly says, "Please, let's not be vulgar." Sometimes, on the other hand, that taboo comes in handy. The couple is ushered out as the merchant says he'll make the arrangements.
Most of the population of Rome is traveling down a road through the woods in a long column. Pompey's family rides along in a litter, but the man himself is on horseback, surrounded by soldiers. Cato trots to catch up with Pompey and walks alongside his horse, stressing about where Pompey's guy Durio is with the gold from the Treasury. Pompey's confident that Durio will show up, but Cato's worried that if he doesn't, they won't be able to feed and pay the legions. Pompey reassures Cato to stop worrying. Cato doesn't look like he's obeying. How did Pompey ever become the Hero of Rome in the first place if the poor guy can never catch a damn break?
Vorenus and his men are in sight of Rome. It's still a couple of miles away across a beautiful valley, but the view doesn't cheer Vorenus. "Why is Rome not defended?" he demands of the universe. Pullo figures they scared the defenders off, but Vorenus insists, "Soldiers of the Republic do not run, so it must be a stratagem." Pullo says it's a good trick, then. Vorenus frets that the gods have abandoned Rome: "If Mars were watching, he would not allow such a disgrace." Pullo cracks that maybe Mars missed it on account of being on the terlet. Vorenus chides Pullo for his blasphemy, saying, "If the gods are not respected, then why should they help us?" Pullo looks less chastened than bored as his superior officer leads them on.
Further down, while traversing a rural lane between fields, Vorenus stresses that the only reason they haven't met any troops yet is that they've already been flanked. He suggests, "Perhaps these drovers know something," and the unit rides into position to a little caravan whose path they're crossing. Except we know these aren't regular drovers, because it's the detachment of soldiers who killed Pompey's servant Durio and looted the treasury earlier. They've merely changed into civilian clothes. And the woman who was abducted by one of the horsemen is now tied by her wrists to a rope trailing from the back of the oxcart. Her assistant is going to hear about this, I'm sure. Pullo's eyes meet hers, almost as if they know each other (which they don't, which I'm telling you right now in order to spare you the distraction). Vorenus asks whether the men have just come from the city, and the soldier playing the part of an innocent oxcart driver/drover says they have. He also identifies Vorenus as being one of Caesar's men. Vorenus confirms it, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Fortune spreads her legs for you," the driver/drover says, giving him the news that Pompey's men have fled. "The city is yours." He explains to a confused Vorenus that Pompey scrammed because he couldn't raise his armies fast enough to defend Rome from Caesar, and he's now retreated south, taking the Senate with him. Because we already know this, the camera is focusing on Pullo and his frank but not unsympathetic looks at the dirty peasant girl, whose ass has nearly disappeared from all the walking she's been doing. But Pullo still spares enough attention to toss an I told you so in Vorenus's direction, though not in so many words. "Enjoy your victory, boys," the driver/drover says jovially. Pullo asks how much they want for the girl, and the guy gets serious fast when he says she's not for sale. Pullo's smile fades as well, but before he can pursue it, Vorenus asks what's in the wagon. "Grain," the driver/drover says. "Show us, soldier," Vorenus commands. Driver/drover says they aren't soldiers. Vorenus fakely admits that he was wrong to assume they were soldiers simply because they're wearing soldier's boots (and we get a good look at one of their heavy sandals at this). "But why would nine good soldiers be guarding a grain wagon?" Vorenus wonders darkly. "I don't have to show you nothing," the driver/drover says, and the rest of his men unsheath their weapons and attack. But given the size of Vorenus's cavalry, it quickly becomes a rout. The driver/drover knocks one of his own guys off a horse as he rides past, and gallops off in escape. Vorenus's men pursue the fleeing looters, Pullo sparing a last glance at the peasant girl who's looking at him all impressed before he spurs off to give chase. And now the girl has a bigger problem, as the oxen who have been pulling the cart decide to start walking again. She struggles to release herself from her bonds before she's pulled off a cliff or into a lake or something. The looters, meanwhile, have scattered, except for the driver/drover who hides while Vorenus's cavalrymen ride past.
Julii receives the entreaties of another suitor for her protection, but she's not impressed, since it's been a while since she saw him at her morning levy, whatever that is. She gives him an out, asking if it's because he's not feeling well due to goiters. He grabs at the excuse. "Fat, greedy men often find it so," Julii Cooper remarks lightly, and promises, "I shall kill an owl that your good health continue." Exit suitor. Just then, a female servant comes in to whisper into Julii's ear. "Speak sense, creature," Julii snaps, but no more is forthcoming. Julii wraps a shawl around herself and heads to her front door to see for herself what's going on. As if she doesn't already know.
Julii Cooper comes out of the gate already raging at the guys who have brought a corpse to her door. "Take it away!" she yells angrily. But, just as she hoped, Octavia is right behind her, reacting in shock at the sight of Glabius laid out on a wagon and looking like he's been dead for about a week. Seriously, they should call him Graybius now, because that's what color he is. He must have bled out real good. "See what you have done?" Julii hisses at the corpsemen, and they abandon their burden in front of her door, wagon and all, while Octavia weeps into the face of her exsanguinated ex.
Vorenus leads his regrouped men along the lane where the peasant girl was abducted. Further along, the lane is lined by trees on both sides, and the city of Rome itself is visible not far beyond. It's pretty. And, on the small screen I use for recapping, quite convincing. Vorenus realizes that his worst fears are realized: "The Republic has fallen." Pullo sarcastically points out that "the sky is still above us and the earth's still below. Strange." Vorenus -- who's really going to have to learn when he's being made fun of if he's going to keep hanging around Pullo -- says that the gods will "take their time in tormenting us." Yeah, they're still not done, dudeus. Pullo suggests they go back to inspect the wagon and untie the peasant girl. Vorenus firmly reminds him of their orders to "advance until resistance is met...You will do your duty." Pullo says, "You are a mean bastard, that's your problem. No love in you. You can talk sweet as you want to Niobe. It won't do you any good. She won't believe a word." Vorenus, rather than repossessing that plate he paid to have put in Pullo's skull, just rides on in annoyance.
Julii Cooper fusses over Octavia, who appears to have fainted and is now in bed. Octavia wakes up, asking, "Oh, it was not a dream, then? Glabius is dead?" Julii Cooper confirms it, and comforts Octavia. It's quite a performance. Octavia looks at her mother sadly. Julii Cooper draws back and demands to know why Octavia is looking at her like that. Octavia has no idea what Julii Cooper's talking about. "As if I--" Julii Cooper begins. "Did you?" Octavia demands. Julii Cooper puts on a big show of being hurt and crosses the room in anger. "Look at me!" Octavia orders, and Julii Cooper turns to her daughter as if she would do so for any reason on Earth other than her own. She returns to Octavia's bed and says to her face, "I swear on the masks of all my ancestors that I had nothing -- nothing to do with the killing of Glabius." Her ancestors must not have been big mask-wearers. Having successfully headed off Octavia's suspicions at the pass, she finds herself grabbed into a hug by her daughter. But the tender moment is interrupted by Octavian, who's standing in the doorway eavesdropping. "Who do you think did it, Mother?" he asks disingenuously. Julii Cooper says it could have been anyone. "Why, it could have been someone in this very room! Inspector, lock the doors!" No, she doesn't.
Vorenus and Pullo lead their column of men right through an impressive gateway arch into the Forum, greeted by nobody but a flock of chickens. They ride their horses right up to the steps of the Senate house and dismount. Vorenus opens that scroll case he's been carrying all this time, and prepares to follow Mark Antony's swaggering order while the voice of Caesar reads the proclamation in voice-over: "These are the words of Gaius Julius Caesar, direct descendant of Venus, Proconsul of Gaul, Glorious Imperato of the Northern Legions." Well, aren't we impressed with ourselves. "Citizens, I have returned to Italy with the sole intention of claiming my legal and moral rights. I have no desire for unlawful powers." Vorenus takes a nail and rips down one of the several notices that are already hanging on the Senate door -- which I think kind of diminishes the impact of this one -- and produces a claw hammer out of thin air, with which he nails up the proclamation like an unfortunate Gaul. Caesar's voice continues as Vorenus descends the steps: "I will name no man an enemy who does not so declare himself. Even so, the property of those enemies will not be appropriated and their person will remain inviolate as long as their opposition be peaceful. Moreover, to any man that has taken arms against me and now regrets it, I gladly offer total amnesty." What a softy. "However, those that continue to use violence to oppose their legal right, they will receive that which they seek to give. Under the auspices of Jupiter Capitolinus, these are the words of Gaius Julius Caesar."
By now, Vorenus is walking across the Forum and throwing aside his weapons. Pullo follows, asking what he's doing. "I have done my duty," Vorenus says. But isn't part of scouting reporting back? I'm no military man, but I can't help wondering what good scouting does if the person you're scouting for never hears another word from you. Vorenus continues, "I have sinned enough. I resign." Pullo says that's desertion. "I'm a traitor and a rebel," Vorenus chuckles. "Why not a deserter as well?" Pullo says he can't just leave. Vorenus turns and hands his sheathed sword to his sidekick. "Goodbye, Pullo," he says, and disappears down a narrow lane.
Vorenus's stop is at a shrine to Venus, where he sincerely asks the goddess to make Niobe love him. Never hurts to ask, I guess. He cuts open his hand and lets the blood drip into the candle flame. Okay, so I was wrong.
Niobe, meanwhile, is apparently making some kind of offering of her own at home, judging by the recently extinguished but smoldering candles she's presently kneeling before. A hand touches her on the shoulder, and she starts. Vorenus, good student that he is, apologizes for startling her, talking like he's addressing a skittish horse. She rises, wondering who this guy is in her house who looks like her husband but doesn't act like a complete ass.
We see Vorenus doing Niobe the favor of allowing her to wash his feet. Ah, well, baby steps. Now without his armor and cape, he dutifully says, "You're very beautiful." She doesn't seem to know how to respond. He confesses that he hasn't treated her well, and makes the excuse that she was only thirteen when they married, and he was gone soon after that. If Jerry Lee Lewis couldn't make it work, what made him think he could? Anyway, he says that now she's a woman, and he knows nothing of women. Hey, at least he knows about that button now, which is a whole lot better than not knowing about it. Vorenus: "Soldiering is all I know, which is not useful. I have been sullen and untrusting and cold. But I can change." Niobe's face is beginning to crumple with emotion. Vorenus continues, "I will swear on the life of my daughter's son that I will change if you would have it so." Niobe sadly starts to tell him just what a meaningless oath that is, but he stops her, saying, "The past is gone. Can we start again?" Niobe nods, and embraces him gratefully.
Pullo rides at a gallop along the road where he last saw the girl and the oxcart, until he catches up to them. The oxen have stopped, and the girl is lying on the ground to the cart. Obviously she wasn't dragged any distance, because the rope isn't stretched to its limit behind the cart and she still has all of her clothes and flesh. Despite this, Pullo looks concerned as he dismounts and approaches her, then relieved as she opens her eyes when he kneels over her. He cuts her bonds, (which don't look all that well-tied in the first place), and leaves her lying on the ground rather than helping her up or offering her water. Instead, he climbs up onto the oxcart and throws aside the canvas covering its contents. This reveals a number of large strongboxes. Pullo lifts the lid of one and makes a face like everyone in Pulp Fiction did when they opened Marcellus Wallace's briefcase. He slams the lid shut, breathing heavily. He opens a second case. It, too, no doubt contains more gold than Pullo's ever seen in his life. He finishes throwing off the canvas, revealing at least six more chests just like the first two. But before he can dump out all the gold and roll around naked in it on the spot, he hears a martial fanfare off in the distance and realizes that Caesar's men must be drawing near. He quickly covers the chests again, picks the girl up, and puts her on the cart's driver's seat. As Caesar's white horse comes into view, Pullo chases his own horse away and throws a dark blanket around his shoulders to hide that bright red cape he's wearing. That done, he pulls on the rope at the front of the wagon to get the oxen moving, and manages, with considerable effort, to get the cart rolling slowly behind him so he can get out of sight. You know, Pullo, if you handed the entire Roman treasury over to Caesar, I bet he'd make you at least a corporal.