[A moment's pause.]
Calpurnius: Listen!
Gleva: The sound upon the road has ceased.
Calpurnius: There are no longer men marching.
Gleva: All have gone over the hill to the sea.
Calpurnius: Yes. There's a freshness in the air, a breath of wind. The morning comes----
Gleva: I cannot conquer Rome.
[A trumpet rings out clear from the top of the hill. The morning is beginning to break. There is the strange light which comes when moonlight and the dawn meet.]
Calpurnius: The reveillé! (He turns to her.)
Gleva: And----