Agron: We are at war, Spartacus. I would see our enemy struck to the afterlife.
Spartacus: Women and children counted among them?
Agron: Were the same not robbed of life in escape from Batiatus' villa? Or the taking of this very city?
Spartacus: They were. Yet few that remain pose no fall to concern.
Agron: They pose concern to fucking stomach drawing from our food which runs low from Aedile dousing pitch upon grain.
Spartacus: Let us gauge our stores. And turn from thought of needless slaughter.