Gleva: Stand here!
[The third attendant stands before her.]
I gave an order.
Caransius: Yet, mistress, it is better to strike against orders than to leave one's friends and, like my dog, follow the marching men.
[A cry bursts from Bran. He seizes Caransius. Gleva stands with her hand upon her knife. Then she turns away, and buries her face in her hands. A whistle is heard from the hillside above her on the left. She looks up, and her face changes. She turns to third attendant.]
Gleva: Go up the hill--close to the camp, as close as you can creep, and watch. So may you earn your pardon. (He goes off.) You two stand aside--but not so far but that a cry may bring you instantly.
Bran: We will be ready. (Exeunt R.)
[Gleva faces the spur of the hill on her left as if all her world was there. There is a movement among the trees on the spur, a flash of armour in the moonlight, and at the edge of the trees appears Quintus Calpurnius Aulus, a Captain about thirty-five years old, handsome, but in repose his face is stern and inscrutable. He is active, lithe, self-confident. He comes out into the open just below the trees, and stands quite still. His very attitude should suggest strength.]
Quintus: I am here. (He speaks with the voice of a man accustomed to command, and to have his orders obeyed without question. Gleva stands erect questioning his authority. Then she crosses her hands upon her bosom and bows her head.)
Gleva: My Lord Calpurnius.