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The Villa of Marcus Brutus
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“Cicero!” exclaimed Brutus as he exited his tablinum. “How happy I am to see you!” Brutus continued. “Marcus Brutus;” said Cicero, “delighted indeed!” Hand-shaking with the old Orator, Brutus motioned to move their meeting to the garden room at the back of the Domus, where they sat on two well-stuffed couches of the latest trend – very cosmopolitan couches, better than those in Cicero’s House. These Nobiles had good taste imprinted in their blood after all, Cicero thought! After both host and guest were presented with beverages, Brutus asked,

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Cicero?” Cicero sipped at his goblet and then replied,

“A good friend does not need a reason, Brutus.” Brutus grinned and took a small drink before setting the goblet down and agreed,

“This is true enough. It has been far too long since we have last met.”

“It has indeed” Cicero said throwing his head lightly backwards. “You are well?” he asked but he didn’t leave time enough for Brutus to reply. “I find myself, unfortunately, too concerned with the future of our Republic to account myself amongst those being well.” Leaving some seconds to sink into this thought, Cicero continued. “I defended our state you know, dear Brutus, when I was a young man; now as an old man, I can’t find it in my heart to abandon it to its fate. These late actions of Caesar worry me. I wonder, do they worry you also? I remember for a fact that you didn’t quite agree with the renewed Constitution.” Cicero picked up the goblet and shipped another time from it, his eyes fixed on Brutus to scan any reaction. “Delicious.” Cicero noticed, raising his hand to the height of his head.