Out in the dining room, Scipio has finally noticed that knife and man are both gone from the table. Way to let your weapon out of your sight, Aquinas. Scipio rushes to check on Cato, then cries, too late, for help. Aquinas and another soldier hurry to obey, while a third man -- a local draftee, most likely -- takes that stubborn bread from Cato's plate and starts munching. Cold!
The next morning, outside the city walls, Scipio and the twelve or so guys that constitute the remains of his army watch Cato's corpse burn merrily on its pyre. Scipio tells Aquinas to send the other men away. Now that it's just the two of them (three if you count the charred carcass), Scipio sits down on a convenient stone and unwraps his cape from around his neck. "Do it now," he tells Aquinas. The soldier draws the same knife that killed Cato -- now cleaned of blood and bread crumbs, at least -- and approaches Scipio, who says, "Cut deep, boy." Aquinas says goodbye and slashes Scipio's throat, which is not stubborn at all. Aquinas drops the knife and gently lowers Scipio's large body off the stone. But now who's going to burn Scipio? "Guys? Come back. And bring some marshmallows."
From this sad scene, we go directly to a comic version of this sad scene. We're back in Rome, where everyone who's anyone is watching an evening pantomime of the deaths of Cato and Scipio. Except in this version, the guy playing Cato is wearing what looks like (but can't possibly be) a plastic wig with his off-the-shoulder toga; the guy playing Scipio's wearing white armor; and there's another guy running around swinging a giant phallus and a couple of chicks waving their boobs around. Most of the audience seems to find all of this hilarious, for some reason, except for the regulars. Caesar's back in town already, because gods forbid we ever actually get to see him reentering the city. He's right there in the front row, smiling indulgently, a stone-faced Brutus at his right hand. Julii Cooper sits behind Caesar and to his left, looking patiently bored and above this plebian entertainment. Because naked people running around in front of an audience is classier when it's happening in her living room. The pantomime finished, the cast takes a curtain call which consists of the actor playing Cato hollering "Happy day!" over and over, in reference to Caesar's victory and the return of the Roman soldiers. Whoa, the Town Crier is not going to be happy about his one weekly scene being given to someone else this episode. Everyone applauds except for Brutus, who just sits there like Ed Harris when Elia Kazan got his honorary Oscar.