So back, before it is too late.

Let us shift for ourselves." Drusus replied never a word, but simply took the tribune's arm and walked the faster toward the Curia.
"I am a very young soldier," he said presently; "do not be angry if I wish to show that I am not afraid of the whizzing arrows." "Then, my friend, whatever befalls, so long as life is in my body, remember you have a brother in Marcus Antonius." The two friends pressed one another's hands, and entered the Curia Pompeii.

There in one of the foremost seats sat the Magnus,[145] the centre of a great flock of adulators, who were basking in the sunshine of his favour.

Yet Drusus, as he glanced over at the Imperator, thought that the great man looked harassed and worried--forced to be partner in a scheme when he would cheerfully be absent.

Fluttering in their broad togas about the senate-house were Domitius, Cato, the Marcelli, and Scipio, busy whipping into line the few remaining waverers.