“Dear friend, my mother is stopping by for an impromptu visit. I hate to have to ask you to leave so soon, but I am afraid I must” said Marcus Brutus, returning to the couches. Cicero stood and nodded in agreement, a run with Servilia – the dear mother of Brutus – wasn’t something his stomach could handle with ease. He always found that woman to be too strong willed for his tastes, perhaps independent and manipulative even if need be.

“Of course, I understand my dear Brutus. Not that I wouldn’t be delighted to see your Mother again, but a family meeting is just as such. I’ll take your leave to go.”

Moving with the aloof Senator to the door, Cicero signalled Tiro to come along. His faithful secretary trotted with ease despite his growing age to his sire’s command and soon he was standing right behind him. Exiting the door with a smile, Cicero fare welled Brutus.

“I shall visit you another time, be assured of that. My regards to your Mother, Brutus, and your lovely wife of course.”

Exiting the domus, Cicero decided to take the long way home. There was none but Terentia waiting for him to return and, besides, he had too much on his mind to think. Trotting lightly, Cicero began his walk back.

How have we come to this?, was the single thing Cicero could think. The last years were the most upsetting of his life, possibly of the Republic’s as well. How had it come to this? Caesar was ruling in Rome, as Consul to what seemed to be in perpetuity, Magnus was licking his wounds in Picenum – or so the rumours said - and Porcius Cato was dead. And what could any man say of this Brutus? What has the lad accomplished in his life except being the nephew of Porcius Cato, the son of Servilia Caepionis and thus the son of the lover of Caesar and now the Great Man’s great nephew-in-law? By his age, Cicero thought, he was denouncing tyrants in the Rostra! What was so important about this Brutus, he failed to see. And yet, he had been trapped as any other man; he too was looking up to Brutus – a backbencher Senator of no personal accomplishment except his honourable reputation – for some action, even a hint of some action without Caesar wishing it. To that matter, Caius Cassius outdid his friend; at least he had acted brilliantly as Crassus’ second in command when he fought the Parthians.

The rest of the Senate was either too weakling or too Caesarian to be able to stand up to what seemed to be the greatest wave of reforms since the Founding. Caesar was determined to be Consul more times than Gaius Marius of the astonishing seven Consulships and more radical than Gaius Gracchus in his alternation of procedure! However that might be, Cicero hated to admit, he wasn’t going to stick out his neck to the tyrant’s wrath by opposing him openly! What he was going to do was to try and influence others to oppose Caesar’s reformative urges, hopefully achieving to create a de facto impossible situation for Caesar; he’d have to back down if the opposition was simply too great.

Taking the road towards the Clivus Victoriae, Cicero founded himself walking down his neighbourhood. Time to relax in the bathtub, Marcus my old boy!