Pompeius and Caesar will be reconciled.

Your uncle's party will see that it is best to allow the proconsul an election as promised.

We will have wise laws and moderate reforms.

All will come out aright.

And we--we two--will go along through life as softly and as merrily as now we stroll up and down in the cool shade of these columns; and I will turn philosopher and evolve a new system that will forever send Plato and Zeno, Epicurus and Timon, to the most remote and spider-spun cupboard of the most old-fashioned library, and you shall be a poetess, a Sappho, an Erinna, who shall tinkle in Latin metres sweeter than they ever sing in Aiolic.