Boink Like An Egyptian

S01E08

Caesar's in Egypt, getting his hands in the local business. And not just his hands. He meets up with Ptolemy XIII, a spoiled brat of a king. He's got his sister Cleopatra held prisoner somewhere to prevent her from disputing the throne, and civil war in Egypt appears imminent. Caesar sends Vorenus and Pullo to rescue the princess, who turns out to be a total crack whore. They accomplish their mission, and Cleopatra is restored to the throne with Caesar's backing. As history buffs know, Cleopatra later gives birth to Caesar's son, cementing their alliance. But she, Pullo, and Vorenus know whose son he really is. Ahem. Meanwhile, back in Rome, Mark Antony is in charge. He's not pleased to learn that Cicero has heard from Cato and Scipio, and is trying to get Brutus to rejoin their erstwhile allies. He reasserts his grip on Cicero's loyalty accordingly. And there's more girl-on-girl action with Servilia and Octavia. Tastefully photographed, of course.

Brutus is home. He stands in his mother's front hall and removes his red cloak, which he hands to a waiting servant. He turns, and there's Servilia, standing to a maid and looking at him unsmilingly. Finally, she steps forward and embraces him half-heartedly. He hugs her much more tightly, while her hands just sort of rest on his shoulders. Until she lifts them a little and lets them drop again, to signal, "Bored. We're done now." Brutus releases her, and she touches his face perfunctorily without looking at him before turning and walking away. Never said a word to him, but damn, that chick can act. On an unrelated note, the ceramic mask-shaped wall sconces with candles burning behind them look like the coolest fire hazard ever. Brutus stands there, like, "I don't know what that was about, but I know it wasn't good." I wonder if Brutus knows what went on between Caesar and Servilia while he was gone? Either way, it's worse than he thinks. Not only is his mother disappointed at his cowardice, she's also gone lesbo.

On the bright side, Brutus has made the news. The Town Crier is rattling off the names of the noblemen who have returned from Greece with Caesar's pardon and must not be harmed: "Publius Servilius Casca! Marcus Tullius Cicero! Gaius Cassius Longinus! And Marcus Junius Brutus!" If I were one of those guys, I'd want the news that I'm not to be harmed to be the top story. Funny how all of those names sound familiar, and not just the ones who've been on the show this whole time. The Crier gives an approving little nod with this last one. He wraps up the broadcast with a little "previously on Rome" bit: Pompey has fled to Egypt, and Caesar is in pursuit.

As are we. In the ancient Egyptian capital of Alexandria, ranks of Roman soldiers stand arrayed along the path into a giant compound, the heavy iron gates of which creak open ponderously. At the head of one of the ranks, Vorenus looks in the opposite direction with an expectant eyebrow-pop that threatens to launch his helmet into the Mediterranean. Caesar marches into the compound, flanked by Posca and a retinue of officers. Once he's past, the men shoulder their pikes and spread out along the outside wall. This is all shot from far away using a tight zoom in order to make the most of the heat distortion that's making the air look all wobbly. Or maybe it's just being filmed through a cookout. Pullo doffs his helmet and leans against the wall, looking miserable in the heat.

Inside the building, we get a good look at Caesar's desert campaign outfit. I think his breastplate is supposed to be gold, but it looks more orange on my screen. Combined with the buff-colored robe underneath it, he looks like a walking Fabergé egg. All the other Roman soldiers are dressed as usual. But the Egyptians surrounding them look quite different. I'm not even going to get into all the varieties of exotic dress, hair, and makeup on display in the throne room they've just entered. There's a good month's worth of fug in there. Priests are busy stoking smoldering braziers, kicking up a ridiculous amount of smoke and an equal amount of chanting. I guess there's no amount of heat and discomfort that can't be made more unbearable with a little effort. Caesar's party comes to a stop near the head of the room, where a bald guy stands there looking a lot like Arnold Vosloo in the recent Mummy movies. Except he's got a little ink-beard and the outline of a sleep mask drawn on his face in orange marker. A-ttractive. He makes a long-winded introduction of King Ptolemy XIII that ends, "Behold Ptolemy, Son of Ra. Ptolemy the Divine!" All of which is an elaborate setup before cutting to a pair of feet dangling above the floor, panning up to the occupant of a throne. He's bored, bewigged, a little chubby, and not more than eight years old. Nice Sharpie®-beard on him, too. "Greetings --" Caesar begins, but the chanters aren't done chanting yet. The Egyptians smirk at Caesar's little faux pas. They'll live to regret that. Caesar doesn't seem like a guy who cares to be smirked at by people who aren't Posca.

Once in the building and standing before Caesar, Pullo and Vorenus each unlace one end of the sack, which is laid out on the floor. From inside the bundle, Cleopatra dramatically flings the flaps aside and breathes in relief. "Princess Cleopatra, sir," Vorenus announces to Caesar as the third figure pulls down her mask to reveal herself as Poor Man's Linda Hunt. Vorenus formally continues his intro: "Daughter of the two rams. Mistress of sedge and bee." Seems to me like the mistress of sedge and bee could have been placed on a table to be unwrapped. All theatrical-like, Cleopatra sits up and starts brushing the dust off her arms, then turns to see Caesar and bats her eyelashes at him like she's swinging for the fences. She holds out one hand to Caesar, signaling him to approach. And here's the second time this episode I'm really impressed with Ciaran Hinds's acting, because he's able to pretend that he's utterly charmed by this ridiculous display. He steps forward and helps her up. She smiles at him. Looks like Vorenus isn't the only one who hasn't been getting any.

It's play time in the main throne room. Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy is playing a game where he pokes and kicks a blindfolded Bald Guy. I'd commiserate with Bald Guy about how much his job sucks, but then I remember that I've been to staff meetings like that. The fun comes to an end when Cleopatra enters with an entourage of slaves and Romans (including Caesar, Vorenus, and Posca), wearing makeup, a much fancier dress, and an elaborate wig made of silk ropes or something. Alarmed, Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy ptrots up to his throne and climbs onto it like it's home base in a game of ptag. Poor Bald Guy is left standing there with the blindfold still on, in a suddenly more crowded room. The doors slam shut with everyone inside. Bald Guy takes off the mask, and the first thing he sees is Cleopatra looking at him disdainfully. She blows right past him and Mop-Head without a word and goes right up to the king. We see that Poor Man's Linda Hunt is also in the house, wearing a wig of her own, whiteface, and two huge swatches of orange eyeliner that go all the way down past her cheekbones, making her face look like breakfast. "Is something wrong, little husband?" Cleopatra asks threateningly, and gives the cringing kid a kiss on one pudgy cheek. "How funny you look in Father's chair," she says. Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy ptries to ptell her that he didn't want to hurt her. Cleopatra gives him the out, saying, "It was your gelding led you astray." Bald Guy takes exception as politely as he can, saying, "Mistress!" all injured-like. Cleopatra snaps, "It must not speak. It must die!" Bald Guy gets all nervous, even though nobody in the room is making a move to carry out Cleopatra's order. He starts gabbling and pointing the finger at Mop-Head, backing away from Cleopatra until he finds himself fetched up right against Caesar, who just looks back at him like something he scraped out of the inside of his breastplate.

Outside the compound, Pullo is sitting on a log and whittling. A couple of Egyptian boys, unable to resist the target presented by the big red cape, start hucking stones at him. Which is pretty brave, considering that several other Romans are standing sentry right to Pullo. Pullo sheathes his dagger, slowly gets up, and wings a stone right back, sending the kids running. One of the sentries snickers, earning a shove from Pullo. And in less than ten seconds, we've just seen the clearest explication ever of the Bush Administration's foreign policy.

In the throne room, Caesar's getting down to business with Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy's guys. Who are all white, by the way. In fact, with an exception or two, nearly every Egyptian speaking role in this episode looks to be played by an actor who is as British as Brutus. Which makes sense to a point, since the line of Ptolemy was Greek-Macedonian, like Alexander, who was recently played by the very Irish Colin Farrell. Heck, we've already got a bunch of Brits playing Italians, except for the Italian who's being played by an actress who's Swiss-Indian, and someone please get me out of this digression right now.

Ahem. Back to Ptolemy's court. None of these guys is ever going to be addressed by name or even title, so I'm not going to bother trying to look them up. The bald one (to whom I will be cleverly referring as "Bald Guy" for the duration) effusively offers to help Caesar in any way they can during his visit, with references to Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy as "The Mighty Lion." Except he does it in this over-the-top, sarcastically swishy way that Caesar pretends not to see through. "How goes your preparation for war?" Caesar gambits. Bald Guy tells Caesar that there's no war coming, but Caesar says he heard that "the sister of the Mighty Lion disputes his right to the throne." The advisors in the room try to keep their cool, which kind of doesn't work when Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy says, "Do not speak of her! I piss on her! I shit on her!" In the wake of this little ptantrum, Bald Guy concedes that the princess has made a claim, "But she has no support. None but traitors and barbarians." That probably sounds familiar to Caesar. Rather than saying so, he turns for prompting to Posca at his elbow. Posca gives him the fact he needs, and Caesar relays, "Deilogos of Pergamum can raise ten legions," like Ralph Fiennes in Quiz Show or something. Bald Guy continues to play it off, assuring Caesar, "You need have no fears about Cleopatra." Now, that name sounds familiar. Caesar asks where she is, and Bald Guy says that nobody knows. "He lies," Posca whispers into Caesar's ear. "They have her." So Posca, in addition to being a human computer, is also a human polygraph? No wonder Caesar puts up with his shit. Caesar declares that the dispute has to end: "Rome desires Egypt to be at peace. Your grain ships must keep sailing." A younger guy, who would probably be quite handsome without his ridiculous Cher wig and painted-on monobrow and goatee, assures Caesar that the country is under total control. Caesar says that if that's the case, they shouldn't have any trouble handing over Pompey Magnus. Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy snaps, "I do not like his tone. He can go." An older guy, who's made up like a demented lunch lady and wearing a giant wig that looks like a couple of elaborately styled mops, intervenes and reminds the boy of what they talked about earlier. Something to do with a crocodile and a fox. "Let us show him our surprise!" Mop-Head suggests excitedly. Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy agrees.

Bald Guy announces to Caesar that they have a gift for him. With much pomp, a little party of slaves comes in, the largest one bearing an ornate urn. She places it on the table in front of Caesar, who doesn't look like he's in the mood for presents. The lid is lifted, and the contents are removed and placed in a silver platter. Caesar doesn't look to happy to be brought face to face with his old friend Pompey Magnus. Especially under these circumstances, when there's nothing below the face. Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy says exactly the wrong thing: "We were going to make him a body with moving arms and legs and do a mime show with real animals and everything." He's rocking the platter from side to side to simulate a little Pompey-dance, until Caesar snaps, "Silence!" Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy backs off nervously. Caesar takes a moment to collect his emotions, and there are a lot of them. This is the first time this episode I'm really impressed with Ciaran Hinds's acting, as his big old billboard of a face registers horror, grief, regret, disappointment, and anger, even as Caesar knows he has to keep his cool. Finally, he calmly pronounces, "Shame on the house of Ptolemies for such barbarity. Shame." Everyone's confused about why Caesar doesn't seem happier. They went to all this trouble -- foresaw the Roman Civil War spilling over into Egypt, eliminated the weaker party, and presented his head to the winner to try to suck up to him -- without understanding one of the most basic things about Caesar: the only thing he loves more than giving out ass-whuppings is pardoning an ass he just whupped. Pompey would have been the biggest pardon in Caesar's career, and now he's been denied that, which to him is unforgivable. Of course, he can't tell them that, so he just acts all offended at the undignified way Pompey died. "He was a Consul of Rome!" Caesar roars, rising to his feet. The armed Egyptians in the room put their hands on their sword hilts as Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy backs off even further. Caesar asks, "Where is the rest of him?" Well, despite its greenish cast, Pompey's severed head looks real enough that I suspect the rest of Kenneth Cranham is kneeling under the table. But Bald Guy assures Caesar that Pompey's sub-cranial remains were cremated with all proper funerary rites and decorum. Caesar says he'll be back tomorrow for the guy who killed Pompey. He storms out, and Posca throws a cloth over Pompey's head before scooping it up, platter and all, and following his boss out. I guess they're leaving the urn.

That night, Caesar stands before a blazing funeral pyre and prays in Latin, a single Iron Eyes Cody tear running down one cheek. Vorenus glowers guiltily nearby. Pompey's head fries, Jedi-stylee. Seems like a lot of trouble to go to to keep Kenneth Cranham's name in the credits for another week.

Later, Caesar hangs out in his quarters with Mark Antony. Posca comes in to announce that the captain says they can sail home any time Caesar likes. So Caesar tells Mark Antony to take half the men and head back to Rome immediately, which will mean Mark Antony gets to announce Pompey's death to the folks back home. As for Caesar, he's going to hang around until he's "settled things here." Mark Antony and Posca both wonder what needs settling. Caesar explains that he has to prevent the Egyptian civil war that's coming: "War will disrupt the grain supply. Without grain, Rome goes hungry." He doesn't seem to think it would be a good idea to take over the Roman Republic and then let it starve. Bad PR. Mark Antony wonders what Caesar will be able to accomplish in Egypt with only half a legion, and Caesar says he'll merely arbitrate. Mark Antony and Posca both try to talk him out of it, saying the only thing that the various Egyptian factions agree on is that Rome sucks. Caesar doesn't appreciate their advice: "I have conquered Gaul. I have defeated Pompey Magnus. I think I can handle a small boy and a eunuch." Bald Guy's a eunuch? Why does his voice sound like Harvey Fierstein's? Mark Antony reminds Caesar that Cato and Scipio are still at large and will raise another army. Caesar says he'll crush it when they do. "I'm glad you're so confident," Mark Antony says. "Some would call it hubris." "It's only hubris if I fail," Caesar says. I'm pretty sure that even saying that is a sign of hubris right there. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Out in the courtyard, Caesar is giving Vorenus his marching orders, which are to find Cleopatra and, having done so, to treat her with complete respect and obedience: "I'm counting on you, Vorenus." Vorenus looks uncomfortable, so Caesar prompts him to speak. Vorenus wants to apologize about Pompey: "It was my actions that brought him here to this end. If I had done my duty--" "Indeed," Caesar interrupts archly. "Dismissed." Vorenus salutes and leaves. Caesar watches him go, expressionless. So I guess they're cool, then?

Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy is brought on a sedan chair into Caesar's quarters. A slave gets on his hands and knees to act as a stepstool as Bald Guy steps forward to address Caesar. "Pompey's murderer?" Caesar asks. Bald Guy claims he "ran away." Caesar tells Bald Guy to find him, and has something to discuss in the meantime. He gestures Posca forward with a scroll, which he says contains an accounting of the debts that the Ptolemy borrowed from the Republic, which Caesar says he's there to collect. Posca holds the scroll out to bald guy and says, "Seventeen thousand thousand drachmas." Bald Guy's shocked at the figure. Did Posca stutter? Bald Guy thinks he owes four, maybe. Posca explains that the total includes money borrowed from Pompey "and other agents of the Republic now unable to collect." Bald Guy complains that that's fair only according to Roman law, which gives Caesar the chance to act offended: "Is there some other form of law, you wretched woman?" he asks calmly. Bald Guy apologizes, which brings Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy up off of his sedan chair to fling the scroll at Caesar's feet. "There's for your payment," he spits angrily. "His majesty forgets he's a vassal to Rome," Caesar says. His majesty starts to ptake exception to that, until Caesar loudly orders him to sit down. That done, Caesar asks when he'll get paid. Bald Guy starts making excuses that have to do with some farm production being affected by Cleopatra's claim, which puts him in the awkward position of making an excuse out of something he blew off before. Caesar magnanimously says he'll accept ten thousand thousand. Bald Guy says even that's going to take a while, which plays right into Caesar's hands; he says that means he'll have time to hang around and mediate the dispute with Cleopatra. "Excellent notion," Bald Guy lies unctuously. "But, alas, who knows where Cleopatra is?" Caesar promises to find her.

By M. Giant

Indeed, inside the little tent/cabin structure, there's a chain stretched across some couch cushions. The chain is connected to a cuff, and the cuff is connected to a young woman in a simple white dress, and the young woman is connected to a long, narrow crack pipe. Okay, obviously it's not a crack pipe per se in forty-something B.C., but it's also obvious that there's more than one kind of chain in play here. It's not until we've taken in the pipe that we get our first good look at the woman's face, which is nothing in particular to write home about. Which, by accounts of the period, is a fair description of the actual Cleopatra. She's got close-cropped hair and her eyes are closed in a drugged stupor. Her handmaiden, a poor man's Linda Hunt, watches over her with concern. Another maid comes in and whispers to the first maid, who responds, "Tell him wait." She takes a few moments to rouse the princess, who needs a good slap and some orientation as to whether it's night or day. "He may enter," Cleopatra finally squeaks imperiously. The Bedouin comes in and sadly announces that it's time for her to "prepare herself for the journey to the afterlife." Like, now-ish. He withdraws, and Poor Man's Linda Hunt hurls herself right into Cleo's lap, wailing. Yeah, I'm sure you're the one she feels bad for right now. The three Nubians come in and pry her away, and then pull Cleopatra into a standing position. One man holds each of her hands out to her sides while the leader holds his sword at the ready. "Say your words," he says. SAG card! She starts praying, but is interrupted when the Bedouin suddenly backs into the tent, gagging and dying from some grievous wound. Looks like our guys have arrived. The other two Nubians draw their blades and go out to investigate, and the sounds of a short but brutal battle are quickly heard from outside while the leader gets ready to dispatch Cleopatra.

While that's going on, Pullo pops in through another entrance. He and the Nubian size each other up nervously, and then rush each other while Cleopatra ducks out of the way and tries to free herself from her ankle cuff. Pullo's clearly intimidated by the wicked curved blade the Nubian is wielding, as well as the man's face-paint and the close quarters, but he goes in anyway with his Roman short sword. The Nubian quickly relieves him of that, but Pullo, undeterred, snags his enemy's knife arm, breaks it, and takes him out with his dagger. I lose track of how many times Pullo stabs the assassin, but by the time he's done, the guy's flat on his back (out of frame, of course) while Pullo plunges the blade in again and again in something like a berserker rage. Finally, the tide of his adrenaline recedes, and he seems to realize where he is. "Hello, ladies," he smarms. Amazing how much charm he can summon after completely ruining the carpet.

The morning, we join Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy's guys in the throne room. They have apparently figured out that their plan hasn't worked, so the discussion of their move is already in progress. Mop-Head is trying to get Cher-Wig to lead an attack on Caesar. Cher-Wig isn't in such a hurry to piss off Rome and get himself killed, though. Actually, the actor looks pretty reluctant to do anything that would require him to move his head, probably for fear of dislodging the fifteen-pound hairpiece on it. Mop-Head and Bald Guy goad him into boasting that he could raise the whole city of Alexandria into an army with a word. "Think on it," Mop-Head says. Cher-Wig starts to leave with his sidekick, who is none other than one Lucius Septimius, who you'll remember as Pompey's killer. Mop-Head asks to "borrow" Septimius for a while, and Cher-Wig consents, unwittingly leaving an unwitting Septimius to his unwitting fate.

Caesar's in his office with Posca and any number of staff soldiers surrounding him. A Centurion knocks and announces a messenger from Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy, and Caesar nods to give admittance. In walks Septimius. Posca heads around the desk to accept a scroll from Septimius, who's now safely inside, the doors closed behind him. Before reading the scroll aloud, Posca nearly turns to look at Septimius, bit stops himself. The salutation of the letter is much longer than its actual message, which is that "him who bears this message is him who killed Pompey." Looks like Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy's guys wanted to keep Caesar appeased a while longer. Caesar looks up at Septimius with sharp interest. Septimius tries to look back with defiance as a room full of armed Romans slowly closes in around him. See, this is why it's so important to know when to delegate.

A bit later, three Roman soldiers come out the front door of the compound. One gives another a boost to where three thick spikes protrude from the outer wall and then angle straight up at a height of nine or ten feet. Once up there, the soldier accepts an item from the soldier on the ground and sticks it on one of the spikes. Which must have a microphone built into it, judging by the sound it makes. Ordinary Egyptians gather around to view the grisly totem, and -- Oh my God! Someone cut the head off of a wax statue of Lucius Septimius! Oh, the humanity!

Cleopatra's ankle is freed from the cuff and chain, but she's still lolling about in her tent rather than going for a nice walk or something. She's examining a Roman coin that she must have gotten from Pullo or Vorenus. I believe it's customary to tip one's rescuers, not the other way around. Rude. Anyway, the coin is stamped with Caesar's likeness. "He's handsome enough," Cleopatra judges. Okay, maybe "likeness" was too strong a word. Cleopatra demands another hit off her pipe. I now realize how unfair it was of me to call Cleopatra a crack whore in my recaplet. Whores work for their crack. Poor Man's Linda Hunt warns her, "Divinity's mortal flesh turns green." Heedless, Cleopatra sucks down another lungful and sinks back on the cushions. Her drugged state is emphasized by the wobbly camera work that makes it look like the whole room is moving. "She will look like a reptile when we arrive in Alexandria," Poor Man's Linda Hunt predicts, probably because she's not allowed to address the royal personage directly when talking about how gross she's getting. Cleo gets up in her face and makes a lizard-like spitting noise. But the maid's not done poking the crazy: "Weak, I call it," she says, which earns her a hard slap. After withdrawing to a safe distance, she clarifies, "She knows how to beat her slaves well enough, but she cannot throw away that pipe." Cleo calls her an "insolent dwarf" and tells her to throw it out. Poor Man's Linda Hunt picks the pipe up off the table, goes to the door, and throws it out into the sand, where it will one day become a dissertation for several dozen archeology grad students. Cleopatra may not be weak, but she sure is easy. And now, in the exterior shot, we see why the room appears to be moving: it's because it is. The whole structure is a giant litter, being carried by a good two dozen slaves. It's a litter RV! Awesome! If you have to travel at a walking pace, I guess that's the way to do it. Inside, Cleopatra flops on her bed and smugs, "Weak, am I?"

At the head of the caravan, we get to hear the deep thoughts of Titus Pullo after having met one of the most powerful women in history: "She wants me. Badly." Vorenus laughs, and then tells Pullo seriously, "She is a princess of royal blood. You touch her, you die." Pullo's not stupid, he says: "I'm just saying she wants me." But how can both of those statements be true?

At night, the litter/RV is parked for the evening, while Vorenus and Pullo wrap themselves in blankets and hunker in close to the campfire outside. Gets cold in the desert at night, as we're being shown and not told.

Inside the RV, Cleopatra has entered the always-attractive withdrawal phase, panting and sweating. "Nothing like cold, stinking sweat to seduce a man," Poor Man's Linda Hunt snarks. Cleopatra isn't worried: "As long as Caesar is a man, I will have him." "She seems very sure of herself," Poor Man's Linda Hunt says, so Cleopatra explains, "I have him or I die. So I will have him." Because desperation was just as attractive then as it is now. I don't know how she decided that those are her only options, but I suppose we just have to take her word for it. Poor Man's Linda Hunt prays, "May it be so, Isis," and then bites her hand between the thumb and forefinger hard enough to draw blood, which she smears on her own forehead. Ew. Touched by this show of loyalty, self-sacrifice, and total grossness, Cleopatra hugs her slave and wishes she were with Caesar now. "My womb is between the flood," she euphemizes. "A child would come as sure as spring." That comment is enough to give Poor Man's Linda Hunt an idea: while Caesar himself may not be around, they do have handy access to a couple of sources of Roman man-glue right outside.

Poor Man's Linda Hunt heads out to where Pullo and Vorenus are poking the fire, neither of them having any idea that one of them is soon going to be asked to poke something else. She stands over them, giving the pair a long, nakedly appraising look. They look back at her, uncomfortable and clueless. This episode makes a lot of good use of silence. You'll notice that I'm hardly telling it to shut up at all. "Come," Poor Man's Linda Hunt finally says to Vorenus. After some confusion, he comes. But not in that way. Not yet, at least.

Inside the tent, Cleopatra is spread out on her sofa-bed, still dressed in her shift but in a distinctly pre-coital pose. "Ooh, so red!" she remarks of Vorenus. And he hasn't even gotten undressed yet. Vorenus politely asks how he can be of service. Cleopatra gets up on her hands and knees and sniffs at him. Poor Man's Linda Hunt pooh-poohs, "Leather. Olives. Not so bad." Wow, it's just like an Axe commercial. Cleopatra sighs, "He will do," and flops over on her back again. "Her majesty commands you will enter her," Poor Man's Linda Hunt blurts without preamble. "You will have coitus with her." Embarrassed for everyone in the room, Vorenus explains in a whisper, "You have it wrong. Coitus means to make babies." Poor Man's Linda Hunt happily says that's exactly what expected of him, and Cleo amplifies the message by abruptly opening her legs at him. The maids strip a shocked and babbling Vorenus of his cloak and weapons while he protests, "Roman men are not used by women in this way." "My queen is an excellent lover," Poor Man's Linda Hunt assures him with considerable authority. Cleopatra herself has reached out one foot, and is running her toe from Vorenus's shoulder, down his chest, and beyond. That's enough to get him to leap on top of her, while she pants expectantly. Of course, there's still his tunic and her slip between them, so there's not a whole lot of entering going on. And there isn't gong to be, as Vorenus just lies there frozen for a minute. Cleopatra wonders what's going on. "Let me give you a hand," Poor Man's Linda Hunt says, reaching for Vorenus's belt. At that, he catapults himself across the room, angrily begging pardon. Cleopatra is mightily offended at being shot down. "You dare refuse the daughter of a Sun God?" Poor Man's Linda Hunt asks.

By M. Giant

Again, a crowd of Egyptian civilians throngs outside the front door of the compound. This time, five Roman soldiers emerge, and two of them get boosted up to reach the spikes to the waxen head of Lucius Septimius. The fifth soldier -- Pullo -- tosses a head to each of his two fellows, and now there are wax statues of Mop-Head and Bald Guy somewhere without heads. This must be the way ancient Egyptian governments announced, "After years of dedicated public service, _______ has decided to spend more time with his family." The Egyptians mutter angrily as the soldiers go back inside the compound. Once they're all in, Vorenus slams the gates shut and supervises the elaborate barring from inside. Seems like they realize that Roman is about to be not a very popular look here in Alexandria. Vorenus orders the men into formation, and opens a little grate in the gate to peer out at the goings-on outside. The folks look mad, but not mad enough to do anything yet. Without even looking at the solider hulking behind him and trying to peek over his shoulder, he says, "And you, Pullo." I like that little moment showing how Vorenus balances his duties as a Prefect and leader of men with his occasional commando missions with Pullo. Pullo goes back to his place, and Vorenus slams the hatch closed.

Inside, Cleopatra and Caesar are getting acquainted. She already knows that Calpurnia is Caesar's third wife, and learns that she has not yet given him a son. "A man without sons is a man without a future," she volunteers. Caesar pleasantly says he never thought of it that way. Cleopatra squeaks that it's sad, and moves on to her agenda item, which is to show Caesar that she has a strategic mind. She advises him to secure the upriver ports if he wants to control Egypt. He denies wanting to do any such thing, but she figures he must, or he wouldn't be there and wouldn't have rescued her, unless he wanted her as a "puppet queen." "Do you dislike the notion?" he asks. Sitting on the footboard of the bed, she says it doesn't matter. "You redeemed me from captivity. I am...your slave." As his first command to her, I would like him to say, "Act better."

It's nighttime now. Vorenus looks through the hatch in the compound gate. No one's outside. The men stand patiently in formation. Pullo's boredom is epic. Hey, it could be worse, as we're about to see.

Wearing a loose white nightshirt, Caesar approaches Cleopatra. She's laid out under a diaphanous sheet, which he snatches off of her, revealing her nakedness. One-word review: Cleo-flat-ra. They hurl themselves at each other.

And other people in the world are having sex as well. Namely, and apropos of little else, Servilia and Octavia are indulging in a little lady-loving. Older woman straddles younger and strokes her bare torso before kissing her. Alas, Lindsay Duncan is too good an actress to be naked.

A Vorenus's-eye view through the compound gate shows two men on horseback riding into position outside. The driver -- Cher-Wig from Ptolemy's court -- helps his passenger to dismount, hands him a spear, and rides off at a walk. The man left behind jams the spear into the sand and stands there like that's supposed to mean something to me.

Caesar and Cleopatra have some more sex, as do Servilia and Octavia. It's all arty and impressionistic and shit. Almost like the Battle of Pharsalus, except that here we can occasionally see something.

Another man joins the man outside the compound, and another. There're four of them now, if you count the spear. So this is how you raise an army in Egypt? Stick a spear in the ground and wait for all the guys to show up who are wandering around the streets looking for spears in the ground? No wonder it's so hard to broker peace in the Middle East.

More sex montage, while more and more men gather outside the gates. Sex, sex, mustering. Sex, mustering, sex, sex, mustering. Which one doesn't belong? Finally, the first man leads the rest in an ululation, as if they can see the other two aspects of the montage somehow. But this must be a battle ululation, because Vorenus slams the peephole shut and says to his men, "Testudo!" Which I think means they need to put their shields up over their heads like turtle shells. Of course, if you're really going to follow an order to make like a turtle, you should technically do it slowly. Which is why a chunk of hurled masonry shatters against one of the soldier's helmets before the shields go up. Wait, you mean this place doesn't have a roof? And the outer wall is low enough that people can throw things over it? That sucks. That's the kind of thing I'd like to know about a place before I defend it from a siege. The rest of the men go testudo and get closer to the wall to avoid further missiles from above. A couple of them fall anyway. Pullo joins Vorenus in helping him hold the gate closed against the banging from outside.

Cleopatra lies in bed, satisfied in more ways than one. Servilia too. She's still not naked, though.

A slow dissolve takes us back to Rome, and to the nearly empty Senate chamber. I say "nearly empty" because Cicero is there to meet privately with Brutus, who arrives and clasps hands with his ally. Cicero asks how he is. Brutus has a great speech here: "Well enough. Although I do not sleep. I write very bad poetry through the night, and in the morning I give it to the cook to stoke the kitchen fires. It's a form of magic; my ill conscience is transformed into roast birds and pastries." Cicero assures Brutus that they only surrendered to Caesar because it was what they had to do. "No doubt Saturn said something of the sort after eating his children," Brutus downers. You know what the gods love? Comparing yourself to them. They can't get enough of that shit. Cicero and Brutus sit down in the Senators' bleachers to talk, and Cicero raises the question of what will happen if Caesar doesn't come back. "He has been besieged in Alexandria the better part of a year," he says. Whoa, that dissolve was slower than I thought. Cicero, his gelled spikes nicely silhouetted, tells Brutus that Scipio and Cato have raised an army, just as Antony predicted. He suggests communicating with their old allies...

...but before he can get any further, a boisterous voice greets them from the entrance. "Brutus and Cicero!" Mark Antony cries. He's all happy to see them, since he just got some great news and wanted to share it with them. He runs up and gives them both hugs, and then sits on the end of a bleacher a couple of rows below them. He jabbers on pleasantly for a while, until the other men's silence becomes unignorable. "Everyone misjudges me, you know," Antony says. Aw, poor Mark Antony. Everyone thinks he's a mindless cretin just because he runs around acting like a mindless cretin. He filibusters that everyone makes mistakes, including a few of his own that he's ashamed to think of. "We are all of us imperfect in our way," Cicero remarks, making to leave. But Mark Antony raises his leg across the aisle, blocking Cicero's exit. "Exactly," he agrees. "Give me your hands, Brother Cicero," he says with a warm smile. Cicero complies. "With all my heart, I forgive you," Mark Antony tells Cicero, laying on the sincerity. Cicero tries to play dumb, but Mark Antony insists he knows everything that goes on in Rome. His grip tightens as he says, "Be assured, brother. If I ever again hear your name connected with murmurs of treachery..." and here Cicero tries to jerk free, only to find himself caught more tightly and forced to his knees, "...I will cut off these soft pink hands and nail them to the Senate door." He releases Cicero, who falls to the floor. Brutus, who hasn't moved, looks up at Mark Antony with a combination of fear and disgust. Mark Antony gets up to leave. Brutus stops him by asking about the happy news he was there to share in the first place. Mark Antony says word has just come that Caesar has prevailed again: "He is safe and sound, and master of all Egypt." No explanation is given as to how Caesar managed that with half a legion and no damn roof. But that would make the episode longer, so I'm not going to complain. Cicero and Brutus look like they don't think that's happy news at all. "The man is a damn prodigy, eh?" Antony crows as he walks out. The scene ends before Cicero can begin, "As I was saying..."

By M. Giant

Cleopatra lies in bed, satisfied in more ways than one. Servilia too. She's still not naked, though.

By M. Giant

In a swamp in Egypt somewhere, the body of Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy floats face down. Ptoo bad for him. Looks like Caesar avenged the indignity of Pompey's death. An underwater shot shows that Pteeny Ptiny Ptolemy's ink-beard is dissolving. Guess that wasn't Sharpie® after all.

Caesar's army is arrayed outside the compound at Alexandria. The gate opens and Caesar exits in civilian clothes, Cleopatra at his side. Both rulers' slaves are arrayed behind them. Cleopatra is carrying a little baby in her arms: Caesarion, who will one day be Ptolemy XV. At least that's what I'm ptold. Before stepping up onto a platform with Cleopatra, Caesar takes the baby from the proud mother, and she doesn't look like she's given birth...well, ever, really. He holds up the child, and the soldiers cheer. The baby's like, "Whoa! What the fuck?" So cute. Kid's got a ginormous dong, by the way. Cheering louder than anyone, of course, is Titus Pullo. "Yaaay!" he says. "Yaaaaaay!" He gets a dirty look from Vorenus, which breaks his rhythm a little. "Uh...yeah...YAAAAAAAAAY!" Heh. Caesar holds up Little Caesar, proud and oblivious. "I came, I saw, I came again."

And it looks like HBO is giving me a week off. To paraphrase Pullo, YAAAAAAAAAAY!