Timon, sword drawn, cautiously steps out into the empty street. The gate and walls of the compound are covered with fresh graffiti. I don't read Latin, but I'm pretty sure that none of the sentiments are "Atia is my favorite" or "Julii Cooper rocks the domus." Timon stands there while the bonfire smolders its last among the rabble rubble. Where'd everyone go?
A quick cut to the Town Crier provides the answer as he announces, "Gnaeus Pompey Magnus has left the city. He commands all noblemen and knights to do likewise. Those who remain will be considered enemies of Rome." Must be nice to be in a position to decide that anyone who disagrees with you is a traitor, and then actually be able to enforce it. I'll bet Ann Coulter loves this show. During this timely announcement, Senators and soldiers march through the forum in a ragged column while citizens throw curses and produce at them. And at least one person is mooning them. That didn't happen when I saw Julius Caesar at the Guthrie a few years ago, I can tell you that.
Those in the poorer neighborhoods without the means or the will to evacuate are at least able to afford stuff to board up their doors and windows. Which puts the slaves and peasants of ancient Rome at least in better shape than a fair segment of the population of modern-day New Orleans. Among those working on battening down is Niobe. While she's busy with that, a nosy neighbor comes in to naysay, "Anyone wants to get in, they'll get in." Of which this woman's unwelcome presence is proof. She comments that it looks like Vorenus will be returning after all, and doubts Niobe's weak claims that she's happy about it. Niobe drops the heavy plank she's using to try to block her front window, and Mrs. Kravus apologizes for her flappy lips. Niobe confesses that she tries to love Vorenus, but that she's not sure she wants him to come back. Not even as part of an invading army? Fickle woman. I suppose making the baby wait to nurse until Vorenus goes out for smokes would get trying in a hurry.