The Officer: They say that he has been assassinated.
(cassius mounts upon the throne and draws his sword.
(He vainly tries many times to make himself heard. At last there is a kind of silence.
Cassius (shouting at the top of his voice): He is not dead, but has made himself our King!
Clamor: Tête-d'or!
(The soldiers form in ranks, around the flags, and march about the hall.
(Discharge of artillery in the court. The hall fills with smoke through which largely enters the light of the sun.
Act III
The Caucasus. A natural terrace in a lofty place, opening toward the North and the East and surrounded by colossal trees. A formidable vertical trench is open towards the West, cutting through the mountain like a street.