Domitius, a handsome, highly polished, vigorous, but none the less unprincipled man, who was just reaching the turn of years, was in high spirits.

No oligarch hated Caesar more violently than he, and the decision of Pompeius was a great personal triumph, the crowning of many years of political intrigue.

What Pompeius had said, he had said; and Caesar, the great foe of the Senate party, was a doomed man.
Lentulus had a question to ask his companion.
"Would you care to consider a marriage alliance between the Lentuli and the Domitii ?" was his proposition.
"I should be rejoiced and honoured to have the opportunity," was the reply; and then in another tone Domitius added, "Lentulus, do you believe in astrologers ?" "I do not really know," answered the other, uneasily.
"Neither do I," continued Domitius.

"But suppose the stars speak truly; and suppose," and here his voice fell, "it is Caesar who is highest in power, in ability, in good fortune;--what then for Pompeius?
for us ?" "Be silent, O prophet of evil!" retorted Lentulus, laughing, but not very naturally..