"Oh Master, I..." A comely female servant cried. A shattered amphorae lay on the ground. "The dogs outside... Oh Master, I beg you-"

"Euripidae," responded Cinna gently, "Just clean it up."

"I will bring another wine-" said Euripidae hurriedly as she bent down to pick up the shatter pieces.

"I believe I will forgo the wine for today. I am going for a walk." Cinna smile was somewhat distant but seemed genuine. Euripidae and the servants still found it difficult to interpret their master's mood... ever since the stroke had left half his face and body paralyzed.

Cinna, they had noted, had changed somewhat since the stroke. He was physically weaker, and he visibly dragged his left foot when he walked. He was also, they noted, more tolerable of slights and other things which he would not have let pass before the illness. He was, finally, more distant somehow, and had taken to increasingly long walks and silent contemplations in his garden.

However, Lucius Caecilius Cinna was not dead to the world. He still received guests to his house. He still went to the Senate House on occasion. He still proposed legislation and voted... sometimes. And they could still, once in a while, see the flash of wild, passionate defiance that was his trademark...