Methodios Tagaris rises, anger seething in his eyes.

You have spoken almost the exact same words I did earlier, Comes Ksanthopoulos and I thank you for your support.

As for the name-calling, I would have stood up to correct the one who proferred the outrageous words, had I heard or noticed anything.

Senators, the debate has not begun yet and already we throw harsh words at one another's face...

Think of what our Basileos will think of us... Senators... Nay, schoolboys, rather...

We ought to be the best of the best of what the empire has to offer and see how we quarrel like the lowest of dock-hands...

Get a grip on yourself before our Lord's arrival, for God's sake...

And you, Caesar, with all the respect due to your family name, for some years still, you are only but the shadow of your father... One day, you will ascend that throne but until then you have no right to question the loyalty of the men gathered in these halls.

We are all loyal servants of the Empire and loyal servants of your father but our declarations of loyalty, if need be, are for the Basileos to demand, and for him only...

Pardon me if I spoke harshly but diplomacy is not my cup of tea. My place is on a battlefield where such niceties have no place.

Bowing with deference to the Prince, Tagaris sits back down, angered with himself for having spoken while pleading for silence.