On her way out, Cleo and her peeps go through a group of soldiers and citizens arrayed on either side of the walkway. One of them is Pullo. The two share a long look as she passes, but neither speaks. Whatever could this lowly legionnaire and a queen have between them? Sure, a long-ago night of fucking that produced the kid Cleo was just talking about and is still claiming as Caesar's, but what else?
Antony's next appointment is with some long-winded worthy who's complaining that now that Erastes Fulmen is gone, the Aventine (Vorenus's neighborhood) is falling into chaos as the lesser crime bosses struggle for supremacy. "Every day there's violence, every day there's [distasteful pause] hoo-hah." Heh. He drones on, boring even himself, until Antony abruptly dismisses the man in mid-filibuster, promising to look into it. Right after he gives Octavian his inheritance, of course.
But Antony's still not through with the subject, because now his old buddy Cicero is standing before him, giving his own lecture about the Aventine and how the criminal unrest threatens the very Republic: "The violence will spread if it is not stopped. The city will descend into chaos and famine and you will blamed, I'm afraid, although none of your fault, of course," he dutifully ass-kisses. Antony again promises to deal with it and asks what Cicero actually wants. Cicero reminds Antony that Antony summoned him, and Antony remembers to have Posca hand a large scroll over to Cicero. The Senator sniffs and peruses it, saying, "It appears to be a list of every dishonest rascal in the city." An unamused Antony claims that it's a list of candidates for the next year's elections, drawn up by Caesar and found by Posca after Caesar "was taken from us." Antony wants Cicero's endorsement, but Cicero smells a rat, saying that the men on the list paid to get there. And even if he does endorse the list, everyone will think it was because Antony intimidated him. Antony is annoyed at the notion that Cicero isn't intimidated. Hey, there's a first time for everything. "At present," Cicero explains, "you cannot afford to kill me. You need me to run the Senate." But he agrees to endorse the list if Antony lets him cut the worst names from it first. Antony wearily agrees. His job would be so much easier if everyone would always do exactly what he wants them to.
After Cicero leaves, Posca is about to tell Antony about his next appointment. But Antony's had enough state business for one day, so he's going to bounce. Posca quickly tries to raise the issue of his own payment, and gets blown off a lot more rudely than Octavian did. Antony calls poor Posca a "wretched Greek thief," complaining that he's "surrounded by money grubbers." And then it gets worse. As he leaves the room, Antony is beset by petitioners shouting his name and waving scrolls at him. He resolutely ignores every one of them, except for Titus Pullo, whom he actually seems glad to see. He asks what Pullo's doing there, and Pullo says that he's there to ask Antony's advice on what to do about Vorenus. I don't buy for a second that Pullo would bother a Consul about his friend's depression, but Antony looks intrigued at this precious opportunity to deal with something unimportant for once.