The consul proclaims an interim; and the Conscript Fathers adjourn to stretch their limbs, snatch a hasty collation provided by their attendants and discuss the arguments. Then all resume when Marcus Petreius, Pedius’s junior advocate, continues for the defense. The hostile attitude of the Senate has impressed the defendant’s counsel, and Petreius enters into an elaborate appeal for mercy, with many fine invocations of the “Divine Clemency,” and reminders of how any senator might some day find himself in Pedius’s horrid predicament. Petreius is allowed “less water” than Saturius; he gets considerable applause, however, when he finishes, but knowing members shake their heads: “They cheer his oratory and not his cause.” In fine mettle therefore Titus Atilius, Calvus’s associate, next sums up for the prosecution. Atilius is a relatively young man, as yet only an ex-quæstor; and to-day is his glorious opportunity. Carried away on a flood of invective, he allows himself, as is permitted by usage, to cover not merely Pedius but even Pedius’s advocate with a storm of bitter personalities. When he thunders against Saturius’s sycophantic career there are wild shouts of applause from all over the Curia; and more applause follows when he ridicules certain physical infirmities of the miserable defendant.[183] Pedius rises with supplicatory gestures and appeals loudly to the ten tribunes, “Oh, very noble tribunes protect me!”--but the ten sit stolid and silent upon their bench and he subsides with blenching cheeks. His advocates, exchanging knowing glances, are seen to be gathering up their tablets. =295. Taking the Opinion of the Senate.=--At last Atilius’s “water” has likewise ended. Amid another whirlwind of applause and rush of congratulating friends he takes his seat. The consul Varus rises with extreme dignity, and beckons with his hand. Every senator instantly is tense and silent. “We do now,” proclaims Varus, “take the opinions (_sententiæ_) of the Conscript Fathers concerning that which it befits should be done in the case of Sextus Annius Pedius this day arraigned and tried. You have heard his accusers and his advocates. I shall call the album of the Senate.” He holds up tablets whereon are listed the senators in order of official rank and precedence; then turns to the members seated directly before him, the magistrates-elect for the ensuing year, summoning first the senior consul designate, Appius Lupercus: “_Dic, Appie Luperce!_” Appius Lupercus, an elderly aristocrat, the head of an ancient family, rises amid a portentous hush. The “right to speak first,” possessed by the Emperor when present, is invaluable. All the orators for either side have really aimed their best arguments toward Lupercus, knowing his prerogative, but his “cold looks” toward Pedius have already fallen as ice upon the friends of the defendant. His voice now carries through the expectant Curia.