[Running out of the tent.] Stay—your celada!
CESARE.
Fling it! Duca! On!
[He dashes out of the courtyard. His escort has gathered and waits stupidly the word of command.
JUANITO.
He gave us no command. His horse has stumbled.
Curses across the wind—
CESARE’S VOICE.
[Suddenly distinct, though far away.] On, Duca, on!
JUANITO.
He flies down the Solana in the wind.
Mount, mount! God’s Love! But we must follow him.