The partisans who arrogated to themselves the modest epithet of "The Company of All Good Men," clamoured noisily that "Liberty and Ancient Freedom" were in danger, if Caesar set foot in Rome save as an impeached traitor.

And the Populares--the supporters of the proconsul--raged equally fiercely against the greed of the Senate party that wished to perpetuate itself forever in office.

Agias could only see that neither faction really understood the causes for and against which they fought; and observed in silence, trusting that his patron knew more of the issues than he.
But the newly manumitted freedman was thoroughly enjoying himself.

The windy speeches in the Senate, the crowded and excited meetings in the Forum, the action and reaction of the tides of popular prejudice and fancy, the eloquence of Antonius, and the threatenings and ravings of Marcellus the consul--all these were interesting but not disturbing.
Agias was catching glimpses of a little Olympus of his own--an Olympus in which he was at once Zeus, Poseidon, and Apollo; Sesostris--so he declared--the lame cup-bearer Hephaestus; and in place of Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, were the smiles and laughter of Artemisia.

Agias was head over ears in love with this pretty little cage-bird shut up in Pratinas's gloomy suite of rooms.