Pompey and his crew of crabby old men storm through the streets. He's pretty sure Caesar is bluffing: "He's desperately weak! Weaker than we thought! This is a last-ditch attempt to frighten us into making concessions while he still has the semblance of an army!" Oh, Pompey. You are indeed in denial. Which is not, as Marc Antony will one day be able to tell you, just a river in Egypt. Cicero counters this with some proverb about the dying snake biting the deepest, and Pompey makes a face like he ate some bad dormouse.
Meanwhile, Pullo leaves the whorehouse and heads to a bar to do some gambling. He tells the men he joins that he's from Caesar's 13th legion, and a man I'll call Crazy Hair tells him he had better keep that quiet, because "this is deep Pompeian territory." Pullo shrugs and says he doesn't care. He points out that they're all Romans, really, and that he just wants to gamble. And so they do.
House of the Vorenii. The baby cries as the man of the house finally gets some tail after eight long and cold years. It doesn't seem to be going particularly well, in that there appears to be a lot of looking at the ceiling and thinking of England -- or, er, Rome, or wherever -- for Niobe.
But things are going much better for Julii Cooper and Marc Antony, who are also engaging in the physical act of love. It appears from Julii's enthusiastic reaction that Tribune Antony is gifted indeed in the carnal arts. (I don't know why I'm writing about this as though I'm penning narration for Masterpiece Theatre, but it might be to avoid writing what I really want to say, which is that Marc Antony is super, super-hot and I want to lick his face.) In her own room, Octavia lies on her bed and listens to her mother...well, you know.
Outside Casa Julii, Strabo writes to Caesar that "General Antony was as blithely arrogant and provocative as one could hope for. And Pompey and Cato were deeply offended by your negotiating position." He signs his letter as Julii's screams of ecstasy...well, you know.
Across town, Pullo is still gambling. Unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse for our resident charming brute, because it turns out that his opponent is cheating at dice. So Pullo stabs him right through the neck. You know, as you do. And this turns into a terrible bar brawl. As it does. Crazy Hair watches as someone smashes Pullo right in the brain with...something I can't really see, but it sure looks painful. Pullo is stunned, and starts staggering around like a madman. And the die is cast indeed. Indeed!