The oxcart carrying the Roman treasury and a complement of tipsy Roman soldiers makes its way through a cemetery that lies along the road going out of town. As does a pretty young peasant woman, who looks a bit like Jennifer Lopez would if somebody forgot to clean her up and float white rose petals in her crapper. You can see where this is going. The soldier riding escort behind the cart hauls the girl up onto the horse with him while she struggles weakly. Of course, she can't struggle all that hard, because dragging a woman onto a slowly walking horse is tough enough when she's helping. Or so I've heard.
The Pompeyan rabble are still beating on Julii Cooper's front gate with their battering ram, hours later. They either need a better ram or better batterers. Inside the house, Timon and his guys are standing with their swords unsheathed, ready to fight should the mob actually succeed gaining entry within the next week or so. Julii Cooper is cheerfully making arrangements for who among them is to kill whom in the event of a successful break-in, so they won't be raped and tortured alive. She uses the tone one employs when discussing seating arrangements at a wedding reception -- and a reception where everyone likes each other, at that. Julii Cooper offers to have her servants kill Brutus and Servilia, but Servilia bravely says they can manage on their own. Octavia says that she would rather not be killed by her mother, which is a good opening to remind everyone that Octavia is still mad at Julii Cooper for busting up her marriage to Glabius. Julii Cooper bitches, "Cerberus is howling for us, and still you plague me with your ridiculous feelings?" Anyway, she spits and pisses on Glabius. Metaphorically. For now, at least. Octavia sneers at her mother to die as she's lived: "With poison brimming in your soul." Octavian interrupts the spat to tell them to listen, but Julii Cooper ignores him in favor of telling her servant Castor to kill Octavia for her when the time comes. Octavia snaps back that she doesn't want to deny her mother one last pleasure. Octavian again yells at them to listen, and this time, they do. The battering has stopped.
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?