The situation was growing less difficult for Octavius. He could now venture to lay before the Senate certain accusations that until that moment he had not dared to make public. The Senate was the supreme arbiter, the tribunal before which all discussions relating to the Government were laid. To denounce his colleague there was dangerous, for not only had Antony many partisans in the Senate, but this year the two Consuls, Caius Sossius and Ahenobarbus, were his sworn friends. The advisers of Octavius were well aware of the risks incurred, but, under the existing conditions, immediate action was imperative. A duel to the death must be fought between the two rivals. It was one of the last days of the year 33 B.C. The sun went in and out amongst the flake-like clouds, making it impossible to know whether sunshine or cloud-drifts would prevail. Octavius studied the sky long and earnestly and finally decided that the way the birds were flying meant weather favourable for his undertaking. He started toward the Senate. The crowd had begun to gather. There were beggars asking alms and slaves carrying provisions. Women were collected about the public market-places where beans, fish, and sausages were displayed. Half-naked children, brown as crickets, paddled in the gutters. Troops of donkeys, bearing wicker baskets, chariots, litters, blocked the streets. Twelve lictors ran before the Imperator to clear the way, but in spite of that his pallor and nervousness were noticed by the people in the street. He was under a strain, and as he took his seat in the chair of honour he felt beneath his toga for the poignard which he always carried there. Since the assassination of Cæsar a _senatus consulte_ had forbidden the wearing of arms in the Senate chamber. But to-day, on the eve of a debate, the consequences of which no one could divine, all precautions were legal. At least so Octavius thought! At the first instant the opposing parties gauged each other at a glance. Placing a heavy portfolio before him, filled with his various accusations against Antony, Octavius opened the discussion. Faithful to his former tactics, which had been so successful with the people, he launched his opening diatribes against Cleopatra: "This incestuous daughter of Ptolemy the Piper, descendant of the Lagidæ, is our worst enemy. Threatened in her own country by those who abhor her loose ways and the dangers of her insecure government, she has made use of the power of Rome for her own protection. Intoxicated with her success, this mad woman has even dreamed of destroying our capital. She is preparing to attack us, I tell you, and with a shameful army of slaves and eunuchs is planning an invasion of Italy!" The effect of this speech was instantaneous. The uproar that greeted it was deafening. Furious with rage, the Senators rose in a body, and with angry gestures raised their togas like the wings of gigantic, ferocious birds.