"Truly."
"And the elections?"
"Are falling due."
"Who sue for the consulship?"
Agathocles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse.
"I have told you enough for the day—"
"Who are candidates?" reiterated Sergius, leaning forward impatiently.
"They say that Varro—" began Agathocles.
But the tribune had sprung to his feet. Then, as he swayed a moment from weakness, leaning back against the couch, he raised both hands and cried out:—
"Have they gone mad? The butcher's son!—the bearer of his father's wares, to command against Hannibal! Do you think the Carthaginian a bullock to stand still and stupid, while this soldier of the shambles swings the axe? Gods! They will learn their error—only we must pay the price, together with the rabble that owe it. Gods! Was not the lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar-water? This will be great news for them on the Megalia."