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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Caesar and Cleopatra, by George Bernard Shaw
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+Title: Caesar and Cleopatra
+
+Author: George Bernard Shaw
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2009 [EBook #3329]
+Last Updated: December 10, 2012
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAESAR AND CLEOPATRA ***
+
+
+
+Produced by Eve Sobol, and David Widger
+
+
+CAESAR AND CLEOPATRA
+
+By George Bernard Shaw
+
+
+Contents
+
+ ACT I
+ ACT II
+ ACT III
+ ACT IV
+ ACT V
+
+ NOTES TO CAESAR AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+_An October night on the Syrian border of Egypt towards the end of the
+XXXIII Dynasty, in the year 706 by Roman computation, afterwards
+reckoned by Christian computation as 48 B.C. A great radiance of
+silver fire, the dawn of a moonlit night, is rising in the east. The
+stars and the cloudless sky are our own contemporaries, nineteen and a
+half centuries younger than we know them; but you would not guess that
+from their appearance. Below them are two notable drawbacks of
+civilization: a palace, and soldiers. The palace, an old, low, Syrian
+building of whitened mud, is not so ugly as Buckingham Palace; and the
+officers in the courtyard are more highly civilized than modern
+English officers: for example, they do not dig up the corpses of their
+dead enemies and mutilate them, as we dug up Cromwell and the Mahdi.
+They are in two groups: one intent on the gambling of their captain
+Belzanor, a warrior of fifty, who, with his spear on the ground beside
+his knee, is stooping to throw dice with a sly-looking young Persian
+recruit; the other gathered about a guardsman who has just finished
+telling a naughty story (still current in English barracks) at which
+they are laughing uproariously. They are about a dozen in number, all
+highly aristocratic young Egyptian guardsmen, handsomely equipped with
+weapons and armor, very unEnglish in point of not being ashamed of and
+uncomfortable in their professional dress; on the contrary, rather
+ostentatiously and arrogantly warlike, as valuing themselves on their
+military caste._
+
+_Belzanor is a typical veteran, tough and wilful; prompt, capable and
+crafty where brute force will serve; helpless and boyish when it will
+not: an effective sergeant, an incompetent general, a deplorable
+dictator. Would, if influentially connected, be employed in the two
+last capacities by a modern European State on the strength of his
+success in the first. Is rather to be pitied just now in view of the
+fact that Julius Caesar is invading his country. Not knowing this, is
+intent on his game with the Persian, whom, as a foreigner, he
+considers quite capable of cheating him._
+
+_His subalterns are mostly handsome young fellows whose interest in
+the game and the story symbolizes with tolerable completeness the main
+interests in life of which they are conscious. Their spears are
+leaning against the walls, or lying on the ground ready to their
+hands. The corner of the courtyard forms a triangle of which one side
+is the front of the palace, with a doorway, the other a wall with a
+gateway. The storytellers are on the palace side: the gamblers, on the
+gateway side. Close to the gateway, against the wall, is a stone block
+high enough to enable a Nubian sentinel, standing on it, to look over
+the wall. The yard is lighted by a torch stuck in the wall. As the
+laughter from the group round the storyteller dies away, the kneeling
+Persian, winning the throw, snatches up the stake from the ground._
+
+
+BELZANOR. By Apis, Persian, thy gods are good to thee.
+
+THE PERSIAN. Try yet again, O captain. Double or quits!
+
+BELZANOR. No more. I am not in the vein.
+
+THE SENTINEL (_poising his javelin as he peers over the wall_). Stand.
+Who goes there?
+
+_They all start, listening. A strange voice replies from without._
+
+VOICE. The bearer of evil tidings.
+
+BELZANOR (_calling to the sentry_). Pass him.
+
+THE SENTINEL (_grounding his javelin_). Draw near, O bearer of evil
+tidings.
+
+BELZANOR (_pocketing the dice and picking up his spear_). Let us
+receive this man with honor. He bears evil tidings.
+
+_The guardsmen seize their spears and gather about the gate, leaving a
+way through for the new comer._
+
+PERSIAN (_rising from his knee_). Are evil tidings, then, honorable?
+
+BELZANOR. O barbarous Persian, hear my instruction. In Egypt the
+bearer of good tidings is sacrificed to the gods as a thank offering;
+but no god will accept the blood of the messenger of evil. When we
+have good tidings, we are careful to send them in the mouth of the
+cheapest slave we can find. Evil tidings are borne by young noblemen
+who desire to bring themselves into notice. (_They join the rest at
+the gate._)
+
+THE SENTINEL. Pass, O young captain; and bow the head in the House of
+the Queen.
+
+VOICE. Go anoint thy javelin with fat of swine, O Blackamoor; for
+before morning the Romans will make thee eat it to the very butt.
+
+_The owner of the voice, a fairhaired dandy, dressed in a different
+fashion to that affected by the guardsmen, but no less extravagantly,
+comes through the gateway laughing. He is somewhat battlestained; and
+his left forearm, bandaged, comes through a torn sleeve. In his right
+hand he carries a Roman sword in its sheath. He swaggers down the
+courtyard, the Persian on his right, Belzanor on his left, and the
+guardsmen crowding down behind him._
+
+BELZANOR. Who art thou that laughest in the House of Cleopatra the
+Queen, and in the teeth of Belzanor, the captain of her guard?
+
+THE NEW COMER. I am Bel Affris, descended from the gods.
+
+BELZANOR (_ceremoniously_). Hail, cousin!
+
+ALL (_except the Persian_). Hail, cousin!
+
+PERSIAN. All the Queen's guards are descended from the gods, O
+stranger, save myself. I am Persian, and descended from many kings.
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_to the guardsmen_). Hail, cousins! (_To the Persian,
+condescendingly_) Hail, mortal!
+
+BELZANOR. You have been in battle, Bel Affris; and you are a soldier
+among soldiers. You will not let the Queen's women have the first of
+your tidings.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. I have no tidings, except that we shall have our throats
+cut presently, women, soldiers, and all.
+
+PERSIAN (_to Belzanor_). I told you so.
+
+THE SENTINEL (_who has been listening_). Woe, alas!
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_calling to him_). Peace, peace, poor Ethiop: destiny is
+with the gods who painted thee black. (_To Belzanor_) What has this
+mortal (_indicating the Persian_) told you?
+
+BELZANOR. He says that the Roman Julius Caesar, who has landed on our
+shores with a handful of followers, will make himself master of Egypt.
+He is afraid of the Roman soldiers. (_The guardsmen laugh with
+boisterous scorn._) Peasants, brought up to scare crows and follow the
+plough. Sons of smiths and millers and tanners! And we nobles,
+consecrated to arms, descended from the gods!
+
+PERSIAN. Belzanor: the gods are not always good to their poor
+relations.
+
+BELZANOR (_hotly, to the Persian_). Man to man, are we worse than the
+slaves of Caesar?
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_stepping between them_). Listen, cousin. Man to man, we
+Egyptians are as gods above the Romans.
+
+THE GUARDSMEN (_exultingly_). Aha!
+
+BEL AFFRIS. But this Caesar does not pit man against man: he throws a
+legion at you where you are weakest as he throws a stone from a
+catapult; and that legion is as a man with one head, a thousand arms,
+and no religion. I have fought against them; and I know.
+
+BELZANOR (_derisively_). Were you frightened, cousin?
+
+_The guardsmen roar with laughter, their eyes sparkling at the wit of
+their captain._
+
+BEL AFFRIS. No, cousin; but I was beaten. They were frightened
+(perhaps); but they scattered us like chaff.
+
+_The guardsmen, much damped, utter a growl of contemptuous disgust._
+
+BELZANOR. Could you not die?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. No: that was too easy to be worthy of a descendant of the
+gods. Besides, there was no time: all was over in a moment. The attack
+came just where we least expected it.
+
+BELZANOR. That shews that the Romans are cowards.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. They care nothing about cowardice, these Romans: they
+fight to win. The pride and honor of war are nothing to them.
+
+PERSIAN. Tell us the tale of the battle. What befell?
+
+THE GUARDSMEN (_gathering eagerly round Bel Affris_). Ay: the tale of
+the battle.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Know then, that I am a novice in the guard of the temple
+of Ra in Memphis, serving neither Cleopatra nor her brother Ptolemy,
+but only the high gods. We went a journey to inquire of Ptolemy why he
+had driven Cleopatra into Syria, and how we of Egypt should deal with
+the Roman Pompey, newly come to our shores after his defeat by Caesar
+at Pharsalia. What, think ye, did we learn? Even that Caesar is coming
+also in hot pursuit of his foe, and that Ptolemy has slain Pompey,
+whose severed head he holds in readiness to present to the conqueror.
+(_Sensation among the guardsmen._) Nay, more: we found that Caesar is
+already come; for we had not made half a day's journey on our way back
+when we came upon a city rabble flying from his legions, whose landing
+they had gone out to withstand.
+
+BELZANOR. And ye, the temple guard! Did you not withstand these
+legions?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. What man could, that we did. But there came the sound of a
+trumpet whose voice was as the cursing of a black mountain. Then saw
+we a moving wall of shields coming towards us. You know how the heart
+burns when you charge a fortified wall; but how if the fortified wall
+were to charge _you_?
+
+THE PERSIAN (_exulting in having told them so_). Did I not say it?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. When the wall came nigh, it changed into a line of
+men--common fellows enough, with helmets, leather tunics, and
+breastplates. Every man of them flung his javelin: the one that came
+my way drove through my shield as through a papyrus--lo there! (_he
+points to the bandage on his left arm_) and would have gone through my
+neck had I not stooped. They were charging at the double then, and
+were upon us with short swords almost as soon as their javelins. When
+a man is close to you with such a sword, you can do nothing with our
+weapons: they are all too long.
+
+THE PERSIAN. What did you do?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Doubled my fist and smote my Roman on the sharpness of his
+jaw. He was but mortal after all: he lay down in a stupor; and I took
+his sword and laid it on. (_Drawing the sword_) Lo! a Roman sword with
+Roman blood on it!
+
+THE GUARDSMEN (_approvingly_). Good! (_They take the sword and hand it
+round, examining it curiously._)
+
+THE PERSIAN. And your men?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Fled. Scattered like sheep.
+
+BELZANOR (_furiously_). The cowardly slaves! Leaving the descendants
+of the gods to be butchered!
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_with acid coolness_). The descendants of the gods did not
+stay to be butchered, cousin. The battle was not to the strong; but
+the race was to the swift. The Romans, who have no chariots, sent a
+cloud of horsemen in pursuit, and slew multitudes. Then our high
+priest's captain rallied a dozen descendants of the gods and exhorted
+us to die fighting. I said to myself: surely it is safer to stand than
+to lose my breath and be stabbed in the back; so I joined our captain
+and stood. Then the Romans treated us with respect; for no man attacks
+a lion when the field is full of sheep, except for the pride and honor
+of war, of which these Romans know nothing. So we escaped with our
+lives; and I am come to warn you that you must open your gates to
+Caesar; for his advance guard is scarce an hour behind me; and not an
+Egyptian warrior is left standing between you and his legions.
+
+THE SENTINEL. Woe, alas! (_He throws down his javelin and flies into
+the palace._)
+
+BELZANOR. Nail him to the door, quick! (_The guardsmen rush for him
+with their spears; but he is too quick for them._) Now this news will
+run through the palace like fire through stubble.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. What shall we do to save the women from the Romans?
+
+BELZANOR. Why not kill them?
+
+PERSIAN. Because we should have to pay blood money for some of them.
+Better let the Romans kill them: it is cheaper.
+
+BELZANOR (_awestruck at his brain power_). O subtle one! O serpent!
+
+BEL AFFRIS. But your Queen?
+
+BELZANOR. True: we must carry off Cleopatra.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Will ye not await her command?
+
+BELZANOR. Command! a girl of sixteen! Not we. At Memphis ye deem her a
+Queen: here we know better. I will take her on the crupper of my
+horse. When we soldiers have carried her out of Caesar's reach, then
+the priests and the nurses and the rest of them can pretend she is a
+queen again, and put their commands into her mouth.
+
+PERSIAN. Listen to me, Belzanor.
+
+BELZANOR. Speak, O subtle beyond thy years.
+
+THE PERSIAN. Cleopatra's brother Ptolemy is at war with her. Let us
+sell her to him.
+
+THE GUARDSMEN. O subtle one! O serpent!
+
+BELZANOR. We dare not. We are descended from the gods; but Cleopatra
+is descended from the river Nile; and the lands of our fathers will
+grow no grain if the Nile rises not to water them. Without our
+father's gifts we should live the lives of dogs.
+
+PERSIAN. It is true: the Queen's guard cannot live on its pay. But
+hear me further, O ye kinsmen of Osiris.
+
+THE GUARDSMEN. Speak, O subtle one. Hear the serpent begotten!
+
+PERSIAN. Have I heretofore spoken truly to you of Caesar, when you
+thought I mocked you?
+
+GUARDSMEN. Truly, truly.
+
+BELZANOR (_reluctantly admitting it_). So Bel Affris says.
+
+PERSIAN. Hear more of him, then. This Caesar is a great lover of
+women: he makes them his friends and counselors.
+
+BELZANOR. Faugh! This rule of women will be the ruin of Egypt.
+
+THE PERSIAN. Let it rather be the ruin of Rome! Caesar grows old now:
+he is past fifty and full of labors and battles. He is too old for the
+young women; and the old women are too wise to worship him.
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Take heed, Persian. Caesar is by this time almost within
+earshot.
+
+PERSIAN. Cleopatra is not yet a woman: neither is she wise. But she
+already troubles men's wisdom.
+
+BELZANOR. Ay: that is because she is descended from the river Nile and
+a black kitten of the sacred White Cat. What then?
+
+PERSIAN. Why, sell her secretly to Ptolemy, and then offer ourselves
+to Caesar as volunteers to fight for the overthrow of her brother and
+the rescue of our Queen, the Great Granddaughter of the Nile.
+
+THE GUARDSMEN. O serpent!
+
+PERSIAN. He will listen to us if we come with her picture in our
+mouths. He will conquer and kill her brother, and reign in Egypt with
+Cleopatra for his Queen. And we shall be her guard.
+
+GUARDSMEN. O subtlest of all the serpents! O admiration! O wisdom!
+
+BEL AFFRIS. He will also have arrived before you have done talking, O
+word spinner.
+
+BELZANOR. That is true. (_An affrighted uproar in the palace
+interrupts him._) Quick: the flight has begun: guard the door. (_They
+rush to the door and form a cordon before it with their spears. A mob
+of women-servants and nurses surges out. Those in front recoil from
+the spears, screaming to those behind to keep back. Belzanor's voice
+dominates the disturbance as he shouts_) Back there. In again,
+unprofitable cattle.
+
+THE GUARDSMEN. Back, unprofitable cattle.
+
+BELZANOR. Send us out Ftatateeta, the Queen's chief nurse.
+
+THE WOMEN (_calling into the palace_). Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta. Come,
+come. Speak to Belzanor.
+
+A WOMAN. Oh, keep back. You are thrusting me on the spearheads.
+
+_A huge grim woman, her face covered with a network of tiny wrinkles,
+and her eyes old, large, and wise; sinewy handed, very tall, very
+strong; with the mouth of a bloodhound and the jaws of a bulldog,
+appears on the threshold. She is dressed like a person of consequence
+in the palace, and confronts the guardsmen insolently._
+
+FTATATEETA. Make way for the Queen's chief nurse.
+
+BELZANOR (_with solemn arrogance_). Ftatateeta: I am Belzanor, the
+captain of the Queen's guard, descended from the gods.
+
+FTATATEETA (_retorting his arrogance with interest_). Belzanor: I am
+Ftatateeta, the Queen's chief nurse; and your divine ancestors were
+proud to be painted on the wall in the pyramids of the kings whom my
+fathers served.
+
+_The women laugh triumphantly._
+
+BELZANOR (_with grim humor_). Ftatateeta: daughter of a long-tongued,
+swivel-eyed chameleon, the Romans are at hand. (_A cry of terror from
+the women: they would fly but for the spears._) Not even the
+descendants of the gods can resist them; for they have each man seven
+arms, each carrying seven spears. The blood in their veins is boiling
+quicksilver; and their wives become mothers in three hours, and are
+slain and eaten the next day.
+
+_A shudder of horror from the women. Ftatateeta, despising them and
+scorning the soldiers, pushes her way through the crowd and confronts
+the spear points undismayed._
+
+FTATATEETA. Then fly and save yourselves, O cowardly sons of the cheap
+clay gods that are sold to fish porters; and leave us to shift for
+ourselves.
+
+BELZANOR. Not until you have first done our bidding, O terror of
+manhood. Bring out Cleopatra the Queen to us and then go whither you
+will.
+
+FTATATEETA (_with a derisive laugh_). Now I know why the gods have
+taken her out of our hands. (_The guardsmen start and look at one
+another_). Know, thou foolish soldier, that the Queen has been missing
+since an hour past sun down.
+
+BELZANOR (_furiously_). Hag: you have hidden her to sell to Caesar or
+her brother. (_He grasps her by the left wrist, and drags her, helped
+by a few of the guard, to the middle of the courtyard, where, as they
+fling her on her knees, he draws a murderous looking knife._) Where is
+she? Where is she? or-- (_He threatens to cut her throat._)
+
+FTATATEETA (_savagely_). Touch me, dog; and the Nile will not rise on
+your fields for seven times seven years of famine.
+
+BELZANOR (_frightened, but desperate_). I will sacrifice: I will pay.
+Or stay. (_To the Persian_) You, O subtle one: your father's lands lie
+far from the Nile. Slay her.
+
+PERSIAN (_threatening her with his knife_). Persia has but one god;
+yet he loves the blood of old women. Where is Cleopatra?
+
+FTATATEETA. Persian: as Osiris lives, I do not know. I chid her for
+bringing evil days upon us by talking to the sacred cats of the
+priests, and carrying them in her arms. I told her she would be left
+alone here when the Romans came as a punishment for her disobedience.
+And now she is gone--run away--hidden. I speak the truth. I call
+Osiris to witness----
+
+THE WOMEN (_protesting officiously_). She speaks the truth, Belzanor.
+
+BELZANOR. You have frightened the child: she is hiding.
+Search--quick--into the palace--search every corner.
+
+_The guards, led by Belzanor, shoulder their way into the palace
+through the flying crowd of women, who escape through the courtyard
+gate._
+
+FTATATEETA (_screaming_). Sacrilege! Men in the Queen's chambers! Sa--
+(_Her voice dies away as the Persian puts his knife to her throat._)
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_laying a hand on Ftatateeta's left shoulder_). Forbear
+her yet a moment, Persian. (_To Ftatateeta, very significantly_)
+Mother: your gods are asleep or away hunting; and the sword is at your
+throat. Bring us to where the Queen is hid, and you shall live.
+
+FTATATEETA (_contemptuously_). Who shall stay the sword in the hand of
+a fool, if the high gods put it there? Listen to me, ye young men
+without understanding. Cleopatra fears me; but she fears the Romans
+more. There is but one power greater in her eyes than the wrath of the
+Queen's nurse and the cruelty of Caesar; and that is the power of the
+Sphinx that sits in the desert watching the way to the sea. What she
+would have it know, she tells into the ears of the sacred cats; and on
+her birthday she sacrifices to it and decks it with poppies. Go ye
+therefore into the desert and seek Cleopatra in the shadow of the
+Sphinx; and on your heads see to it that no harm comes to her.
+
+BEL AFFRIS (_to the Persian_). May we believe this, O subtle one?
+
+PERSIAN. Which way come the Romans?
+
+BEL AFFRIS. Over the desert, from the sea, by this very Sphinx.
+
+PERSIAN (_to Ftatateeta_). O mother of guile! O aspic's tongue! You
+have made up this tale so that we two may go into the desert and
+perish on the spears of the Romans. (_Lifting his knife_) Taste death.
+
+FTATATEETA. Not from thee, baby. (_She snatches his ankle from under
+him and flies stooping along the palace wall, vanishing in the
+darkness within its precinct. Bel Affris roars with laughter as the
+Persian tumbles. The guardsmen rush out of the palace with Belzanor
+and a mob of fugitives, mostly carrying bundles._)
+
+PERSIAN. Have you found Cleopatra?
+
+BELZANOR. She is gone. We have searched every corner.
+
+THE NUBIAN SENTINEL (_appearing at the door of the palace_). Woe!
+Alas! Fly, fly!
+
+BELZANOR. What is the matter now?
+
+THE NUBIAN SENTINEL. The sacred white cat has been stolen.
+
+ALL. Woe! Woe!
+
+(_General panic. They all fly with cries of consternation. The torch
+is thrown down and extinguished in the rush. Darkness. The noise of
+the fugitives dies away. Dead silence. Suspense. Then the blackness
+and stillness breaks softly into silver mist and strange airs as the
+windswept harp of Memnon plays at the dawning of the moon. It rises
+full over the desert; and a vast horizon comes into relief, broken by
+a huge shape which soon reveals itself in the spreading radiance as a
+Sphinx pedestalled on the sands. The light still clears, until the
+upraised eyes of the image are distinguished looking straight forward
+and upward in infinite fearless vigil, and a mass of color between its
+great paws defines itself as a heap of red poppies on which a girl
+lies motionless, her silken vest heaving gently and regularly with the
+breathing of a dreamless sleeper, and her braided hair glittering in a
+shaft of moonlight like a bird's wing._
+
+_Suddenly there comes from afar a vaguely fearful sound (it might be
+the bellow of a Minotaur softened by great distance) and Memnon's
+music stops. Silence: then a few faint high-ringing trumpet notes.
+Then silence again. Then a man comes from the south with stealing
+steps, ravished by the mystery of the night, all wonder, and halts,
+lost in contemplation, opposite the left flank of the Sphinx, whose
+bosom, with its burden, is hidden from him by its massive shoulder.)_
+
+THE MAN. Hail, Sphinx: salutation from Julius Caesar! I have wandered
+in many lands, seeking the lost regions from which my birth into this
+world exiled me, and the company of creatures such as I myself. I have
+found flocks and pastures, men and cities, but no other Caesar, no air
+native to me, no man kindred to me, none who can do my day's deed, and
+think my night's thought. In the little world yonder, Sphinx, my place
+is as high as yours in this great desert; only I wander, and you sit
+still; I conquer, and you endure; I work and wonder, you watch and
+wait; I look up and am dazzled, look down and am darkened, look round
+and am puzzled, whilst your eyes never turn from looking out--out of
+the world--to the lost region--the home from which we have strayed.
+Sphinx, you and I, strangers to the race of men, are no strangers to
+one another: have I not been conscious of you and of this place since
+I was born? Rome is a madman's dream: this is my Reality. These starry
+lamps of yours I have seen from afar in Gaul, in Britain, in Spain, in
+Thessaly, signalling great secrets to some eternal sentinel below,
+whose post I never could find. And here at last is their sentinel--an
+image of the constant and immortal part of my life, silent, full of
+thoughts, alone in the silver desert. Sphinx, Sphinx: I have climbed
+mountains at night to hear in the distance the stealthy footfall of
+the winds that chase your sands in forbidden play--our invisible
+children, O Sphinx, laughing in whispers. My way hither was the way of
+destiny; for I am he of whose genius you are the symbol: part brute,
+part woman, and part God--nothing of man in me at all. Have I read
+your riddle, Sphinx?
+
+THE GIRL (_who has wakened, and peeped cautiously from her nest to see
+who is speaking_). Old gentleman.
+
+CAESAR (_starting violently, and clutching his sword_). Immortal gods!
+
+THE GIRL. Old gentleman: don't run away.
+
+CAESAR (_stupefied_). "Old gentleman: don't run away!!!" This! To
+Julius Caesar!
+
+THE GIRL (_urgently_). Old gentleman.
+
+CAESAR. Sphinx: you presume on your centuries. I am younger than you,
+though your voice is but a girl's voice as yet.
+
+THE GIRL. Climb up here, quickly; or the Romans will come and eat you.
+
+CAESAR (_running forward past the Sphinx's shoulder, and seeing her_).
+A child at its breast! A divine child!
+
+THE GIRL. Come up quickly. You must get up at its side and creep
+round.
+
+CAESAR (_amazed_). Who are you?
+
+THE GIRL. Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt.
+
+CAESAR. Queen of the Gypsies, you mean.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You must not be disrespectful to me, or the Sphinx will let
+the Romans eat you. Come up. It is quite cosy here.
+
+CAESAR (_to himself_). What a dream! What a magnificent dream! Only
+let me not wake, and I will conquer ten continents to pay for dreaming
+it out to the end. (_He climbs to the Sphinx's flank, and presently
+reappears to her on the pedestal, stepping round its right shoulder._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. Take care. That's right. Now sit down: you may have its
+other paw. (_She seats herself comfortably on its left paw._) It is
+very powerful and will protect us; but (_shivering, and with plaintive
+loneliness_) it would not take any notice of me or keep me company. I
+am glad you have come: I was very lonely. Did you happen to see a
+white cat anywhere?
+
+CAESAR (_sitting slowly down on the right paw in extreme wonderment_).
+Have you lost one?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes: the sacred white cat: is it not dreadful? I brought
+him here to sacrifice him to the Sphinx; but when we got a little way
+from the city a black cat called him, and he jumped out of my arms and
+ran away to it. Do you think that the black cat can have been my
+great-great-great-grandmother?
+
+CAESAR (_staring at her_). Your great-great-great-grandmother! Well,
+why not? Nothing would surprise me on this night of nights.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I think it must have been. My great-grandmother's
+great-grandmother was a black kitten of the sacred white cat; and the
+river Nile made her his seventh wife. That is why my hair is so wavy.
+And I always want to be let do as I like, no matter whether it is the
+will of the gods or not: that is because my blood is made with Nile
+water.
+
+CAESAR. What are you doing here at this time of night? Do you live
+here?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Of course not: I am the Queen; and I shall live in the
+palace at Alexandria when I have killed my brother, who drove me out
+of it. When I am old enough I shall do just what I like. I shall be
+able to poison the slaves and see them wriggle, and pretend to
+Ftatateeta that she is going to be put into the fiery furnace.
+
+CAESAR. Hm! Meanwhile why are you not at home and in bed?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Because the Romans are coming to eat us all. _You_ are not
+at home and in bed either.
+
+CAESAR (_with conviction_). Yes I am. I live in a tent; and I am now
+in that tent, fast asleep and dreaming. Do you suppose that I believe
+you are real, you impossible little dream witch?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_giggling and leaning trustfully towards him_). You are a
+funny old gentleman. I like you.
+
+CAESAR. Ah, that spoils the dream. Why don't you dream that I am
+young?
+
+CLEOPATRA. I wish you were; only I think I should be more afraid of
+you. I like men, especially young men with round strong arms; but I am
+afraid of them. You are old and rather thin and stringy; but you have
+a nice voice; and I like to have somebody to talk to, though I think
+you are a little mad. It is the moon that makes you talk to yourself
+in that silly way.
+
+CAESAR. What! you heard that, did you? I was saying my prayers to the
+great Sphinx.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But this isn't the great Sphinx.
+
+CAESAR (_much disappointed, looking up at the statue_). What!
+
+CLEOPATRA. This is only a dear little kitten of the Sphinx. Why, the
+great Sphinx is so big that it has a temple between its paws. This is
+my pet Sphinx. Tell me: do you think the Romans have any sorcerers who
+could take us away from the Sphinx by magic?
+
+CAESAR. Why? Are you afraid of the Romans?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_very seriously_). Oh, they would eat us if they caught us.
+They are barbarians. Their chief is called Julius Caesar. His father
+was a tiger and his mother a burning mountain; and his nose is like an
+elephant's trunk. (_Caesar involuntarily rubs his nose._) They all
+have long noses, and ivory tusks, and little tails, and seven arms
+with a hundred arrows in each; and they live on human flesh.
+
+CAESAR. Would you like me to shew you a real Roman?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_terrified_). No. You are frightening me.
+
+CAESAR. No matter: this is only a dream----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_excitedly_). It is not a dream: it is not a dream. See,
+see. (_She plucks a pin from her hair and jabs it repeatedly into his
+arm._)
+
+CAESAR. Ffff--Stop. (_Wrathfully_) How dare you?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_abashed_). You said you were dreaming. (_Whimpering_) I
+only wanted to shew you----
+
+CAESAR (_gently_). Come, come: don't cry. A queen mustn't cry. (_He
+rubs his arm, wondering at the reality of the smart._) Am I awake?
+(_He strikes his hand against the Sphinx to test its solidity. It
+feels so real that he begins to be alarmed, and says perplexedly_)
+Yes, I--(_quite panic-stricken_) no: impossible: madness, madness!
+(_Desperately_) Back to camp--to camp. (_He rises to spring down from
+the pedestal._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_flinging her arms in terror round him_). No: you shan't
+leave me. No, no, no: don't go. I'm afraid--afraid of the Romans.
+
+CAESAR (_as the conviction that he is really awake forces itself on
+him_). Cleopatra: can you see my face well?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes. It is so white in the moonlight.
+
+CAESAR. Are you sure it is the moonlight that makes me look whiter
+than an Egyptian? (_Grimly_) Do you notice that I have a rather long
+nose?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_recoiling, paralyzed by a terrible suspicion_). Oh!
+
+CAESAR. It is a Roman nose, Cleopatra.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Ah! (_With a piercing scream she springs up; darts round
+the left shoulder of the Sphinx; scrambles down to the sand; and falls
+on her knees in frantic supplication, shrieking_) Bite him in two,
+Sphinx: bite him in two. I meant to sacrifice the white cat--I did
+indeed--I (_Caesar, who has slipped down from the pedestal, touches
+her on the shoulder_) Ah! (_She buries her head in her arms._)
+
+CAESAR. Cleopatra: shall I teach you a way to prevent Caesar from
+eating you?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_clinging to him piteously_). Oh do, do, do. I will steal
+Ftatateeta's jewels and give them to you. I will make the river Nile
+water your lands twice a year.
+
+CAESAR. Peace, peace, my child. Your gods are afraid of the Romans:
+you see the Sphinx dare not bite me, nor prevent me carrying you off
+to Julius Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_in pleading murmurings_). You won't, you won't. You said
+you wouldn't.
+
+CAESAR. Caesar never eats women.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_springing up full of hope_). What!
+
+CAESAR (_impressively_). But he eats girls (_she relapses_) and cats.
+Now you are a silly little girl; and you are descended from the black
+kitten. You are both a girl and a cat.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_trembling_). And will he eat me?
+
+CAESAR. Yes; unless you make him believe that you are a woman.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Oh, you must get a sorcerer to make a woman of me. Are you
+a sorcerer?
+
+CAESAR. Perhaps. But it will take a long time; and this very night you
+must stand face to face with Caesar in the palace of your fathers.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No, no. I daren't.
+
+CAESAR. Whatever dread may be in your soul--however terrible Caesar
+may be to you--you must confront him as a brave woman and a great
+queen; and you must feel no fear. If your hand shakes: if your voice
+quavers; then--night and death! (_She moans._) But if he thinks you
+worthy to rule, he will set you on the throne by his side and make you
+the real ruler of Egypt.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_despairingly_). No: he will find me out: he will find me
+out.
+
+CAESAR (_rather mournfully_). He is easily deceived by women. Their
+eyes dazzle him; and he sees them not as they are, but as he wishes
+them to appear to him.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_hopefully_). Then we will cheat him. I will put on
+Ftatateeta's head-dress; and he will think me quite an old woman.
+
+CAESAR. If you do that he will eat you at one mouthful.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But I will give him a cake with my magic opal and seven
+hairs of the white cat baked in it; and----
+
+CAESAR (_abruptly_). Pah! you are a little fool. He will eat your cake
+and you too. (_He turns contemptuously from her._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_running after him and clinging to him_). Oh, please,
+_please_! I will do whatever you tell me. I will be good! I will be
+your slave. (_Again the terrible bellowing note sounds across the
+desert, now closer at hand. It is the bucina, the Roman war trumpet._)
+
+CAESAR. Hark!
+
+CLEOPATRA (_trembling_). What was that?
+
+CAESAR. Caesar's voice.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pulling at his hand_). Let us run away. Come. Oh, come.
+
+CAESAR. You are safe with me until you stand on your throne to receive
+Caesar. Now lead me thither.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_only too glad to get away_). I will, I will. (_Again the
+bucina._) Oh, come, come, come: the gods are angry. Do you feel the
+earth shaking?
+
+CAESAR. It is the tread of Caesar's legions.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_drawing him away_). This way, quickly. And let us look for
+the white cat as we go. It is he that has turned you into a Roman.
+
+CAESAR. Incorrigible, oh, incorrigible! Away! (_He follows her, the
+bucina sounding louder as they steal across the desert. The moonlight
+wanes: the horizon again shows black against the sky, broken only by
+the fantastic silhouette of the Sphinx. The sky itself vanishes in
+darkness, from which there is no relief until the gleam of a distant
+torch falls on great Egyptian pillars supporting the roof of a
+majestic corridor. At the further end of this corridor a Nubian slave
+appears carrying the torch. Caesar, still led by Cleopatra, follows
+him. They come down the corridor, Caesar peering keenly about at the
+strange architecture, and at the pillar shadows between which, as the
+passing torch makes them hurry noiselessly backwards, figures of men
+with wings and hawks' heads, and vast black marble cats, seem to flit
+in and out of ambush. Further along, the wall turns a corner and makes
+a spacious transept in which Caesar sees, on his right, a throne, and
+behind the throne a door. On each side of the throne is a slender
+pillar with a lamp on it._)
+
+CAESAR. What place is this?
+
+CLEOPATRA. This is where I sit on the throne when I am allowed to wear
+my crown and robes. (_The slave holds his torch to shew the throne._)
+
+CAESAR. Order the slave to light the lamps.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_shyly_). Do you think I may?
+
+CAESAR. Of course. You are the Queen. (_She hesitates._) Go on.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_timidly, to the slave_). Light all the lamps.
+
+FTATATEETA (_suddenly coming from behind the throne_). Stop. (_The
+slave stops. She turns sternly to Cleopatra, who quails like a naughty
+child._) Who is this you have with you; and how dare you order the
+lamps to be lighted without my permission? (_Cleopatra is dumb with
+apprehension._)
+
+CAESAR. Who is she?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Ftatateeta.
+
+FTATATEETA (_arrogantly_). Chief nurse to----
+
+CAESAR (_cutting her short_). I speak to the Queen. Be silent. (_To
+Cleopatra_) Is this how your servants know their places? Send her
+away; and you (_to the slave_) do as the Queen has bidden. (_The slave
+lights the lamps. Meanwhile Cleopatra stands hesitating, afraid of
+Ftatateeta._) You are the Queen: send her away.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_cajoling_). Ftatateeta, dear: you must go away--just for a
+little.
+
+CAESAR. You are not commanding her to go away: you are begging her.
+You are no Queen. You will be eaten. Farewell. (_He turns to go._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_clutching him_). No, no, no. Don't leave me.
+
+CAESAR. A Roman does not stay with queens who are afraid of their
+slaves.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I am not afraid. Indeed I am not afraid.
+
+FTATATEETA. We shall see who is afraid here. (_Menacingly_)
+Cleopatra----
+
+CAESAR. On your knees, woman: am I also a child that you dare trifle
+with me? (_He points to the floor at Cleopatra's feet. Ftatateeta,
+half cowed, half savage, hesitates. Caesar calls to the Nubian_)
+Slave. (_The Nubian comes to him._) Can you cut off a head? (_The
+Nubian nods and grins ecstatically, showing all his teeth. Caesar
+takes his sword by the scabbard, ready to offer the hilt to the
+Nubian, and turns again to Ftatateeta, repeating his gesture._) Have
+you remembered yourself, mistress?
+
+_Ftatateeta, crushed, kneels before Cleopatra, who can hardly believe
+her eyes._
+
+FTATATEETA (_hoarsely_). O Queen, forget not thy servant in the days
+of thy greatness.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_blazing with excitement_). Go. Begone. Go away.
+(_Ftatateeta rises with stooped head, and moves backwards towards the
+door. Cleopatra watches her submission eagerly, almost clapping her
+hands, which are trembling. Suddenly she cries_) Give me something to
+beat her with. (_She snatches a snake-skin from the throne and dashes
+after Ftatateeta, whirling it like a scourge in the air. Caesar makes
+a bound and manages to catch her and hold her while Ftatateeta
+escapes._)
+
+CAESAR. You scratch, kitten, do you?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_breaking from him_). I _will_ beat somebody. I will beat
+_him_. (_She attacks the slave._) There, there, there! (_The slave
+flies for his life up the corridor and vanishes. She throws the
+snake-skin away and jumps on the step of the throne with her arms
+waving, crying_) I am a real Queen at last--a real, real Queen!
+Cleopatra the Queen! (_Caesar shakes his head dubiously, the advantage
+of the change seeming open to question from the point of view of the
+general welfare of Egypt. She turns and looks at him exultantly. Then
+she jumps down from the step, runs to him, and flings her arms round
+him rapturously, crying_) Oh, I love you for making me a Queen.
+
+CAESAR. But queens love only kings.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I will make all the men I love kings. I will make you a
+king. I will have many young kings, with round, strong arms; and when
+I am tired of them I will whip them to death; but you shall always be
+my king: my nice, kind, wise, good old king.
+
+CAESAR. Oh, my wrinkles, my wrinkles! And my child's heart! You will
+be the most dangerous of all Caesar's conquests.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_appalled_). Caesar! I forgot Caesar. (_Anxiously_) You
+will tell him that I am a Queen, will you not?--a real Queen. Listen!
+(_stealthily coaxing him_) let us run away and hide until Caesar is
+gone.
+
+CAESAR. If you fear Caesar, you are no true Queen; and though you were
+to hide beneath a pyramid, he would go straight to it and lift it with
+one hand. And then--! (_He chops his teeth together._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_trembling_). Oh!
+
+CAESAR. Be afraid if you dare. (_The note of the bucina resounds again
+in the distance. She moans with fear. Caesar exalts in it,
+exclaiming_) Aha! Caesar approaches the throne of Cleopatra. Come:
+take your place. (_He takes her hand and leads her to the throne. She
+is too downcast to speak._) Ho, there, Teetatota. How do you call your
+slaves?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_spiritlessly, as she sinks on the throne and cowers there,
+shaking_). Clap your hands.
+
+_He claps his hands. Ftatateeta returns._
+
+CAESAR. Bring the Queen's robes, and her crown, and her women; and
+prepare her.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_eagerly--recovering herself a little_). Yes, the crown,
+Ftatateeta: I shall wear the crown.
+
+FTATATEETA. For whom must the Queen put on her state?
+
+CAESAR. For a citizen of Rome. A king of kings, Totateeta.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_stamping at her_). How dare you ask questions? Go and do
+as you are told. (_Ftatateeta goes out with a grim smile. Cleopatra
+goes on eagerly, to Caesar_) Caesar will know that I am a Queen when
+he sees my crown and robes, will he not?
+
+CAESAR. No. How shall he know that you are not a slave dressed up in
+the Queen's ornaments?
+
+CLEOPATRA. You must tell him.
+
+CAESAR. He will not ask me. He will know Cleopatra by her pride, her
+courage, her majesty, and her beauty. (_She looks very doubtful._) Are
+you trembling?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_shivering with dread_). No, I--I--(_in a very sickly
+voice_) No.
+
+_Ftatateeta and three women come in with the regalia._
+
+FTATATEETA. Of all the Queen's women, these three alone are left. The
+rest are fled. (_They begin to deck Cleopatra, who submits, pale and
+motionless._)
+
+CAESAR. Good, good. Three are enough. Poor Caesar generally has to
+dress himself.
+
+FTATATEETA (_contemptuously_). The Queen of Egypt is not a Roman
+barbarian. (_To Cleopatra_) Be brave, my nursling. Hold up your head
+before this stranger.
+
+CAESAR (_admiring Cleopatra, and placing the crown on her head_). Is
+it sweet or bitter to be a Queen, Cleopatra?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Bitter.
+
+CAESAR. Cast out fear; and you will conquer Caesar. Tota: are the
+Romans at hand?
+
+FTATATEETA. They are at hand; and the guard has fled.
+
+THE WOMEN (_wailing subduedly_). Woe to us!
+
+_The Nubian comes running down the hall._
+
+NUBIAN. The Romans are in the courtyard. (_He bolts through the door.
+With a shriek, the women fly after him. Ftatateeta's jaw expresses
+savage resolution: she does not budge. Cleopatra can hardly restrain
+herself from following them. Caesar grips her wrist, and looks
+steadfastly at her. She stands like a martyr._)
+
+CAESAR. The Queen must face Caesar alone. Answer "So be it."
+
+CLEOPATRA (_white_). So be it.
+
+CAESAR (_releasing her_). Good.
+
+_A tramp and tumult of armed men is heard. Cleopatra's terror
+increases. The bucina sounds close at hand, followed by a formidable
+clangor of trumpets. This is too much for Cleopatra: she utters a cry
+and darts towards the door. Ftatateeta stops her ruthlessly._
+
+FTATATEETA. You are my nursling. You have said "So be it"; and if you
+die for it, you must make the Queen's word good. (_She hands Cleopatra
+to Caesar, who takes her back, almost beside herself with
+apprehension, to the throne._)
+
+CAESAR. Now, if you quail--! (_He seats himself on the throne._)
+
+_She stands on the step, all but unconscious, waiting for death. The
+Roman soldiers troop in tumultuously through the corridor, headed by
+their ensign with his eagle, and their bucinator, a burly fellow with
+his instrument coiled round his body, its brazen bell shaped like the
+head of a howling wolf. When they reach the transept, they stare in
+amazement at the throne; dress into ordered rank opposite it; draw
+their swords and lift them in the air with a shout of_ Hail, Caesar.
+_Cleopatra turns and stares wildly at Caesar; grasps the situation;
+and, with a great sob of relief, falls into his arms._
+
+
+ACT II
+
+_Alexandria. A hall on the first floor of the Palace, ending in a
+loggia approached by two steps. Through the arches of the loggia the
+Mediterranean can be seen, bright in the morning sun. The clean lofty
+walls, painted with a procession of the Egyptian theocracy, presented
+in profile as flat ornament, and the absence of mirrors, sham
+perspectives, stuffy upholstery and textiles, make the place handsome,
+wholesome, simple and cool, or, as a rich English manufacturer would
+express it, poor, bare, ridiculous and unhomely. For Tottenham Court
+Road civilization is to this Egyptian civilization as glass bead and
+tattoo civilization is to Tottenham Court Road._
+
+_The young king Ptolemy Dionysus (aged ten) is at the top of the
+steps, on his way in through the loggia, led by his guardian Pothinus,
+who has him by the hand. The court is assembled to receive him. It is
+made up of men and women (some of the women being officials) of
+various complexions and races, mostly Egyptian; some of them,
+comparatively fair, from lower Egypt; some, much darker, from upper
+Egypt; with a few Greeks and Jews. Prominent in a group on Ptolemy's
+right hand is Theodotus, Ptolemy's tutor. Another group, on Ptolemy's
+left, is headed by Achillas, the general of Ptolemy's troops.
+Theodotus is a little old man, whose features are as cramped and
+wizened as his limbs, except his tall straight forehead, which
+occupies more space than all the rest of his face. He maintains an air
+of magpie keenness and profundity, listening to what the others say
+with the sarcastic vigilance of a philosopher listening to the
+exercises of his disciples. Achillas is a tall handsome man of
+thirty-five, with a fine black beard curled like the coat of a poodle.
+Apparently not a clever man, but distinguished and dignified. Pothinus
+is a vigorous man of fifty, a eunuch, passionate, energetic and quick
+witted, but of common mind and character; impatient and unable to
+control his temper. He has fine tawny hair, like fur. Ptolemy, the
+King, looks much older than an English boy of ten; but he has the
+childish air, the habit of being in leading strings, the mixture of
+impotence and petulance, the appearance of being excessively washed,
+combed and dressed by other hands, which is exhibited by court-bred
+princes of all ages._
+
+_All receive the King with reverences. He comes down the steps to a
+chair of state which stands a little to his right, the only seat in
+the hall. Taking his place before it, he looks nervously for
+instructions to Pothinus, who places himself at his left hand._
+
+
+POTHINUS. The King of Egypt has a word to speak.
+
+THEODOTUS (_in a squeak which he makes impressive by sheer
+self-opinionativeness_). Peace for the King's word!
+
+PTOLEMY (_without any vocal inflexions: he is evidently repeating a
+lesson_). Take notice of this all of you. I am the firstborn son of
+Auletes the Flute Blower who was your King. My sister Berenice drove
+him from his throne and reigned in his stead but--but (_he
+hesitates_)----
+
+POTHINUS (_stealthily prompting_).--but the gods would not suffer----
+
+PTOLEMY. Yes--the gods would not suffer--not suffer--(_he stops; then,
+crestfallen_) I forget what the gods would not suffer.
+
+THEODOTUS. Let Pothinus, the King's guardian, speak for the King.
+
+POTHINUS (_suppressing his impatience with difficulty_). The King
+wished to say that the gods would not suffer the impiety of his sister
+to go unpunished.
+
+PTOLEMY (_hastily_). Yes: I remember the rest of it. (_He resumes his
+monotone_). Therefore the gods sent a stranger, one Mark Antony, a
+Roman captain of horsemen, across the sands of the desert and he set
+my father again upon the throne. And my father took Berenice my sister
+and struck her head off. And now that my father is dead yet another of
+his daughters, my sister Cleopatra, would snatch the kingdom from me
+and reign in my place. But the gods would not suffer (_Pothinus coughs
+admonitorily_)--the gods--the gods would not suffer----
+
+POTHINUS (_prompting_).--will not maintain----
+
+PTOLEMY. Oh yes--will not maintain such iniquity, they will give her
+head to the axe even as her sister's. But with the help of the witch
+Ftatateeta she hath cast a spell on the Roman Julius Caesar to make
+him uphold her false pretence to rule in Egypt. Take notice then that
+I will not suffer--that I will not suffer--(_pettishly, to Pothinus_)
+What is it that I will not suffer?
+
+POTHINUS (_suddenly exploding with all the force and emphasis of
+political passion_). The King will not suffer a foreigner to take from
+him the throne of our Egypt. (_A shout of applause._) Tell the King,
+Achillas, how many soldiers and horsemen follow the Roman?
+
+THEODOTUS. Let the King's general speak!
+
+ACHILLAS. But two Roman legions, O King. Three thousand soldiers and
+scarce a thousand horsemen.
+
+_The court breaks into derisive laughter; and a great chattering
+begins, amid which Rufio, a Roman officer, appears in the loggia. He
+is a burly, black-bearded man of middle age, very blunt, prompt and
+rough, with small clear eyes, and plump nose and cheeks, which,
+however, like the rest of his flesh, are in ironhard condition._
+
+RUFIO (_from the steps_). Peace, ho! (_The laughter and chatter cease
+abruptly._) Caesar approaches.
+
+THEODOTUS (_with much presence of mind_). The King permits the Roman
+commander to enter!
+
+_Caesar, plainly dressed, but wearing an oak wreath to conceal his
+baldness, enters from, the loggia, attended by Britannus, his
+secretary, a Briton, about forty, tall, solemn, and already slightly
+bald, with a heavy, drooping, hazel-colored moustache trained so as to
+lose its ends in a pair of trim whiskers. He is carefully dressed in
+blue, with portfolio, inkhorn, and reed pen at his girdle. His serious
+air and sense of the importance of the business in hand is in marked
+contrast to the kindly interest of Caesar, who looks at the scene,
+which is new to him, with the frank curiosity of a child, and then
+turns to the King's chair: Britannus and Rufio posting themselves near
+the steps at the other side._
+
+CAESAR (_looking at Pothinus and Ptolemy_). Which is the King? the man
+or the boy?
+
+POTHINUS. I am Pothinus, the guardian of my lord the King.
+
+CAESAR (_patting Ptolemy kindly on the shoulder_). So you are the
+King. Dull work at your age, eh? (_To Pothinus_) your servant,
+Pothinus. (_He turns away unconcernedly and comes slowly along the
+middle of the hall, looking from side to side at the courtiers until
+he reaches Achillas._) And this gentleman?
+
+THEODOTUS. Achillas, the King's general.
+
+CAESAR (_to Achillas, very friendly_). A general, eh? I am a general
+myself. But I began too old, too old. Health and many victories,
+Achillas!
+
+ACHILLAS. As the gods will, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_turning to Theodotus_). And you, sir, are----?
+
+THEODOTUS. Theodotus, the King's tutor.
+
+CAESAR. You teach men how to be kings, Theodotus. That is very clever
+of you. (_Looking at the gods on the walls as he turns away from
+Theodotus and goes up again to Pothinus._) And this place?
+
+POTHINUS. The council chamber of the chancellors of the King's
+treasury, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Ah! That reminds me. I want some money.
+
+POTHINUS. The King's treasury is poor, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Yes: I notice that there is but one chair in it.
+
+RUFIO (_shouting gruffly_). Bring a chair there, some of you, for
+Caesar.
+
+PTOLEMY (_rising shyly to offer his chair_). Caesar----
+
+CAESAR (_kindly_). No, no, my boy: that is your chair of state. Sit
+down.
+
+_He makes Ptolemy sit down again. Meanwhile Rufio, looking about him,
+sees in the nearest corner an image of the god Ra, represented as a
+seated man with the head of a hawk. Before the image is a bronze
+tripod, about as large as a three-legged stool, with a stick of
+incense burning on it. Rufio, with Roman resourcefulness and
+indifference to foreign superstitions, promptly seizes the tripod;
+shakes off the incense; blows away the ash; and dumps it down behind
+Caesar, nearly in the middle of the hall._
+
+RUFIO. Sit on that, Caesar.
+
+_A shiver runs through the court, followed by a hissing whisper of_
+Sacrilege!
+
+CAESAR (_seating himself_). Now, Pothinus, to business. I am badly in
+want of money.
+
+BRITANNUS (_disapproving of these informal expressions_). My master
+would say that there is a lawful debt due to Rome by Egypt, contracted
+by the King's deceased father to the Triumvirate; and that it is
+Caesar's duty to his country to require immediate payment.
+
+CAESAR (_blandly_). Ah, I forgot. I have not made my companions known
+here. Pothinus: this is Britannus, my secretary. He is an islander
+from the western end of the world, a day's voyage from Gaul.
+(_Britannus bows stiffly._) This gentleman is Rufio, my comrade in
+arms. (_Rufio nods._) Pothinus: I want 1,600 talents.
+
+_The courtiers, appalled, murmur loudly, and Theodotus and Achillas
+appeal mutely to one another against so monstrous a demand._
+
+POTHINUS (_aghast_). Forty million sesterces! Impossible. There is not
+so much money in the King's treasury.
+
+CAESAR (_encouragingly_). _Only_ sixteen hundred talents, Pothinus.
+Why count it in sesterces? A sestertius is only worth a loaf of bread.
+
+POTHINUS. And a talent is worth a racehorse. I say it is impossible.
+We have been at strife here, because the King's sister Cleopatra
+falsely claims his throne. The King's taxes have not been collected
+for a whole year.
+
+CAESAR. Yes they have, Pothinus. My officers have been collecting them
+all the morning. (_Renewed whisper and sensation, not without some
+stifled laughter, among the courtiers._)
+
+RUFIO (_bluntly_). You must pay, Pothinus. Why waste words? You are
+getting off cheaply enough.
+
+POTHINUS (_bitterly_). Is it possible that Caesar, the conqueror of
+the world, has time to occupy himself with such a trifle as our taxes?
+
+CAESAR. My friend: taxes are the chief business of a conqueror of the
+world.
+
+POTHINUS. Then take warning, Caesar. This day, the treasures of the
+temples and the gold of the King's treasury will be sent to the mint
+to be melted down for our ransom in the sight of the people. They
+shall see us sitting under bare walls and drinking from wooden cups.
+And their wrath be on your head, Caesar, if you force us to this
+sacrilege!
+
+CAESAR. Do not fear, Pothinus: the people know how well wine tastes in
+wooden cups. In return for your bounty, I will settle this dispute
+about the throne for you, if you will. What say you?
+
+POTHINUS. If I say no, will that hinder you?
+
+RUFIO (_defiantly_). No.
+
+CAESAR. You say the matter has been at issue for a year, Pothinus. May
+I have ten minutes at it?
+
+POTHINUS. You will do your pleasure, doubtless.
+
+CAESAR. Good! But first, let us have Cleopatra here.
+
+THEODOTUS. She is not in Alexandria: she is fled into Syria.
+
+CAESAR. I think not. (_To Rufio_) Call Totateeta.
+
+RUFIO (_calling_). Ho there, Teetatota.
+
+_Ftatateeta enters the loggia, and stands arrogantly at the top of the
+steps._
+
+FTATATEETA. Who pronounces the name of Ftatateeta, the Queen's chief
+nurse?
+
+CAESAR. Nobody can pronounce it, Tota, except yourself. Where is your
+mistress?
+
+_Cleopatra, who is hiding behind Ftafateeta, peeps out at them,
+laughing. Caesar rises._
+
+CAESAR. Will the Queen favor us with her presence for a moment?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pushing Ftatateeta aside and standing haughtily on the
+brink of the steps_). Am I to behave like a Queen?
+
+CAESAR. Yes.
+
+_Cleopatra immediately comes down to the chair of state; seizes
+Ptolemy and drags him out of his seat; then takes his place in the
+chair. Ftatateeta seats herself on the step of the loggia, and sits
+there, watching the scene with sybilline intensity._
+
+PTOLEMY (_mortified, and struggling with his tears_). Caesar: this is
+how she treats me always. If I am a King why is she allowed to take
+everything from me?
+
+CLEOPATRA. You are not to be King, you little cry-baby. You are to be
+eaten by the Romans.
+
+CAESAR (_touched by Ptolemy's distress_). Come here, my boy, and stand
+by me.
+
+_Ptolemy goes over to Caesar, who, resuming his seat on the tripod,
+takes the boy's hand to encourage him. Cleopatra, furiously jealous,
+rises and glares at them._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with flaming cheeks_). Take your throne: I don't want it.
+(_She flings away from the chair, and approaches Ptolemy, who shrinks
+from her._) Go this instant and sit down in your place.
+
+CAESAR. Go, Ptolemy. Always take a throne when it is offered to you.
+
+RUFIO. I hope you will have the good sense to follow your own advice
+when we return to Rome, Caesar.
+
+_Ptolemy slowly goes back to the throne, giving Cleopatra a wide
+berth, in evident fear of her hands. She takes his place beside
+Caesar._
+
+CAESAR. Pothinus----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_interrupting him_). Are you not going to speak to me?
+
+CAESAR. Be quiet. Open your mouth again before I give you leave; and
+you shall be eaten.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I am not afraid. A queen must not be afraid. Eat my husband
+there, if you like: _he_ is afraid.
+
+CAESAR (_starting_). Your husband! What do you mean?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pointing to Ptolemy_). That little thing.
+
+_The two Romans and the Briton stare at one another in amazement._
+
+THEODOTUS. Caesar: you are a stranger here, and not conversant with
+our laws. The kings and queens of Egypt may not marry except with
+their own royal blood. Ptolemy and Cleopatra are born king and consort
+just as they are born brother and sister.
+
+BRITANNUS (_shocked_). Caesar: this is not proper.
+
+THEODOTUS (_outraged_). How!
+
+CAESAR (_recovering his self-possession_). Pardon him, Theodotus: he
+is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island
+are the laws of nature.
+
+BRITANNUS. On the contrary, Caesar, it is these Egyptians who are
+barbarians; and you do wrong to encourage them. I say it is a scandal.
+
+CAESAR. Scandal or not, my friend, it opens the gate of peace. (_He
+rises and addresses Pothinus seriously._) Pothinus: hear what I
+propose.
+
+RUFIO. Hear Caesar there.
+
+CAESAR. Ptolemy and Cleopatra shall reign jointly in Egypt.
+
+ACHILLAS. What of the King's younger brother and Cleopatra's younger
+sister?
+
+RUFIO (_explaining_). There is another little Ptolemy, Caesar: so they
+tell me.
+
+CAESAR. Well, the little Ptolemy can marry the other sister; and we
+will make them both a present of Cyprus.
+
+POTHINUS (_impatiently_). Cyprus is of no use to anybody.
+
+CAESAR. No matter: you shall have it for the sake of peace.
+
+BRITANNUS (_unconsciously anticipating a later statesman_). Peace with
+honor, Pothinus.
+
+POTHINUS (_mutinously_). Caesar: be honest. The money you demand is
+the price of our freedom. Take it; and leave us to settle our own
+affairs.
+
+THE BOLDER COURTIERS (_encouraged by Pothinus's tone and Caesar's
+quietness_). Yes, yes. Egypt for the Egyptians!
+
+_The conference now becomes an altercation, the Egyptians becoming
+more and more heated. Caesar remains unruffled; but Rufio grows
+fiercer and doggeder, and Britannus haughtily indignant._
+
+RUFIO (_contemptuously_). Egypt for the Egyptians! Do you forget that
+there is a Roman army of occupation here, left by Aulus Gabinius when
+he set up your toy king for you?
+
+ACHILLAS (_suddenly asserting himself_). And now under _my_ command.
+_I_ am the Roman general here, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_tickled by the humor of the situation_). And also the
+Egyptian general, eh?
+
+POTHINUS (_triumphantly_). That is so, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_to Achillas_). So you can make war on the Egyptians in the
+name of Rome, and on the Romans--on _me_, if necessary--in the name of
+Egypt?
+
+ACHILLAS. That is so, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. And which side are you on at present, if I may presume to ask,
+general?
+
+ACHILLAS. On the side of the right and of the gods.
+
+CAESAR. Hm! How many men have you?
+
+ACHILLAS. That will appear when I take the field.
+
+RUFIO (_truculently_). Are your men Romans? If not, it matters not how
+many there are, provided you are no stronger than 500 to ten.
+
+POTHINUS. It is useless to try to bluff us, Rufio. Caesar has been
+defeated before and may be defeated again. A few weeks ago Caesar was
+flying for his life before Pompey: a few months hence he may be flying
+for his life before Cato and Juba of Numidia, the African King.
+
+ACHILLAS (_following up Pothinus's speech menacingly_). What can you
+do with 4,000 men?
+
+THEODOTUS (_following up Achillas's speech with a raucous squeak_).
+And without money? Away with you.
+
+ALL THE COURTIERS (_shouting fiercely and crowding towards Caesar_).
+Away with you. Egypt for the Egyptians! Begone.
+
+_Rufio bites his beard, too angry to speak. Caesar sits on comfortably
+as if he were at breakfast, and the cat were clamoring for a piece of
+Finnan-haddie._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Why do you let them talk to you like that, Caesar? Are you
+afraid?
+
+CAESAR. Why, my dear, what they say is quite true.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But if you go away, I shall not be Queen.
+
+CAESAR. I shall not go away until you are Queen.
+
+POTHINUS. Achillas: if you are not a fool, you will take that girl
+whilst she is under your hand.
+
+RUFIO (_daring them_). Why not take Caesar as well, Achillas?
+
+POTHINUS (_retorting the defiance with interest_). Well said, Rufio.
+Why not?
+
+RUFIO. Try, Achillas. (_Calling_) Guard there.
+
+_The loggia immediately fills with Caesar's soldiers, who stand, sword
+in hand, at the top of the steps, waiting the word to charge from
+their centurion, who carries a cudgel. For a moment the Egyptians face
+them proudly: then they retire sullenly to their former places._
+
+BRITANNUS. You are Caesar's prisoners, all of you.
+
+CAESAR (_benevolently_). Oh no, no, no. By no means. Caesar's guests,
+gentlemen.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Won't you cut their heads off?
+
+CAESAR. What! Cut off your brother's head?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Why not? He would cut off mine, if he got the chance.
+Wouldn't you, Ptolemy?
+
+PTOLEMY (_pale and obstinate_). I would. I will, too, when I grow up.
+
+_Cleopatra is rent by a struggle between her newly-acquired dignity as
+a queen, and a strong impulse to put out her tongue at him. She takes
+no part in the scene which follows, but watches it with curiosity and
+wonder, fidgeting with the restlessness of a child, and sitting down
+on Caesar's tripod when he rises._
+
+POTHINUS. Caesar: if you attempt to detain us----
+
+RUFIO. He will succeed, Egyptian: make up your mind to that. We hold
+the palace, the beach, and the eastern harbor. The road to Rome is
+open; and you shall travel it if Caesar chooses.
+
+CAESAR (_courteously_). I could do no less, Pothinus, to secure the
+retreat of my own soldiers. I am accountable for every life among
+them. But you are free to go. So are all here, and in the palace.
+
+RUFIO (_aghast at this clemency_). What! Renegades and all?
+
+CAESAR (_softening the expression_). Roman army of occupation and all,
+Rufio.
+
+POTHINUS (_desperately_). Then I make a last appeal to Caesar's
+justice. I shall call a witness to prove that but for us, the Roman
+army of occupation, led by the greatest soldier in the world, would
+now have Caesar at its mercy. (_Calling through the loggia_) Ho,
+there, Lucius Septimius (_Caesar starts, deeply moved_): if my voice
+can reach you, come forth and testify before Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_shrinking_). No, no.
+
+THEODOTUS. Yes, I say. Let the military tribune bear witness.
+
+_Lucius Septimius, a clean shaven, trim athlete of about 40, with
+symmetrical features, resolute mouth, and handsome, thin Roman nose,
+in the dress of a Roman officer, comes in through the loggia and
+confronts Caesar, who hides his face with his robe for a moment; then,
+mastering himself, drops it, and confronts the tribune with dignity._
+
+POTHINUS. Bear witness, Lucius Septimius. Caesar came hither in
+pursuit of his foe. Did we shelter his foe?
+
+LUCIUS. As Pompey's foot touched the Egyptian shore, his head fell by
+the stroke of my sword.
+
+THEODOTUS (_with viperish relish_). Under the eyes of his wife and
+child! Remember that, Caesar! They saw it from the ship he had just
+left. We have given you a full and sweet measure of vengeance.
+
+CAESAR (_with horror_). Vengeance!
+
+POTHINUS. Our first gift to you, as your galley came into the
+roadstead, was the head of your rival for the empire of the world.
+Bear witness, Lucius Septimius: is it not so?
+
+LUCIUS. It is so. With this hand, that slew Pompey, I placed his head
+at the feet of Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Murderer! So would you have slain Caesar, had Pompey been
+victorious at Pharsalia.
+
+LUCIUS. Woe to the vanquished, Caesar! When I served Pompey, I slew as
+good men as he, only because he conquered them. His turn came at last.
+
+THEODOTUS (_flatteringly_). The deed was not yours, Caesar, but
+ours--nay, mine; for it was done by my counsel. Thanks to us, you keep
+your reputation for clemency, and have your vengeance too.
+
+CAESAR. Vengeance! Vengeance!! Oh, if I could stoop to vengeance, what
+would I not exact from you as the price of this murdered man's blood.
+(_They shrink back, appalled and disconcerted._) Was he not my
+son-in-law, my ancient friend, for 20 years the master of great Rome,
+for 30 years the compeller of victory? Did not I, as a Roman, share
+his glory? Was the Fate that forced us to fight for the mastery of the
+world, of our making? Am I Julius Caesar, or am I a wolf, that you
+fling to me the grey head of the old soldier, the laurelled conqueror,
+the mighty Roman, treacherously struck down by this callous ruffian,
+and then claim my gratitude for it! (_To Lucius Septimius_) Begone:
+you fill me with horror.
+
+LUCIUS (_cold and undaunted_). Pshaw! You have seen severed heads
+before, Caesar, and severed right hands too, I think; some thousands
+of them, in Gaul, after you vanquished Vercingetorix. Did you spare
+him, with all your clemency? Was that vengeance?
+
+CAESAR. No, by the gods! would that it had been! Vengeance at least is
+human. No, I say: those severed right hands, and the brave
+Vercingetorix basely strangled in a vault beneath the Capitol, were
+(_with shuddering satire_) a wise severity, a necessary protection to
+the commonwealth, a duty of statesmanship--follies and fictions ten
+times bloodier than honest vengeance! What a fool was I then! To think
+that men's lives should be at the mercy of such fools! (_Humbly_)
+Lucius Septimius, pardon me: why should the slayer of Vercingetorix
+rebuke the slayer of Pompey? You are free to go with the rest. Or stay
+if you will: I will find a place for you in my service.
+
+LUCIUS. The odds are against you, Caesar. I go. (_He turns to go out
+through the loggia._)
+
+RUFIO (_full of wrath at seeing his prey escaping_). That means that
+he is a Republican.
+
+LUCIUS (_turning defiantly on the loggia steps_). And what are you?
+
+RUFIO. A Caesarian, like all Caesar's soldiers.
+
+CAESAR (_courteously_). Lucius: believe me, Caesar is no Caesarian.
+Were Rome a true republic, then were Caesar the first of Republicans.
+But you have made your choice. Farewell.
+
+LUCIUS. Farewell. Come, Achillas, whilst there is yet time.
+
+_Caesar, seeing that Rufio's temper threatens to get the worse of him,
+puts his hand on his shoulder and brings him down the hall out of
+harm's way, Britannus accompanying them and posting himself on
+Caesar's right hand. This movement brings the three in a little group
+to the place occupied by Achillas, who moves haughtily away and joins
+Theodotus on the other side. Lucius Septimius goes out through the
+soldiers in the loggia. Pothinus, Theodotus and Achillas follow him
+with the courtiers, very mistrustful of the soldiers, who close up in
+their rear and go out after them, keeping them moving without much
+ceremony. The King is left in his chair, piteous, obstinate, with
+twitching face and fingers. During these movements Rufio maintains an
+energetic grumbling, as follows:--_
+
+RUFIO (_as Lucius departs_). Do you suppose he would let us go if he
+had our heads in his hands?
+
+CAESAR. I have no right to suppose that his ways are any baser than
+mine.
+
+RUFIO. Psha!
+
+CAESAR. Rufio: if I take Lucius Septimius for my model, and become
+exactly like him, ceasing to be Caesar, will you serve me still?
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: this is not good sense. Your duty to Rome demands
+that her enemies should be prevented from doing further mischief.
+(_Caesar, whose delight in the moral eye-to-business of his British
+secretary is inexhaustible, smiles intelligently._)
+
+RUFIO. It is no use talking to him, Britannus: you may save your
+breath to cool your porridge. But mark this, Caesar. Clemency is very
+well for you; but what is it for your soldiers, who have to fight
+to-morrow the men you spared yesterday? You may give what orders you
+please; but I tell you that your next victory will be a massacre,
+thanks to your clemency. _I_, for one, will take no prisoners. I will
+kill my enemies in the field; and then you can preach as much clemency
+as you please: I shall never have to fight them again. And now, with
+your leave, I will see these gentry off the premises. (_He turns to
+go._)
+
+CAESAR (_turning also and seeing Ptolemy_). What! Have they left the
+boy alone! Oh shame, shame!
+
+RUFIO (_taking Ptolemy's hand and making him rise_). Come, your
+majesty!
+
+PTOLEMY (_to Caesar, drawing away his hand from Rufio_). Is he turning
+me out of my palace?
+
+RUFIO (_grimly_). You are welcome to stay if you wish.
+
+CAESAR (_kindly_). Go, my boy. I will not harm you; but you will be
+safer away, among your friends. Here you are in the lion's mouth.
+
+PTOLEMY (_turning to go_). It is not the lion I fear, but (_looking at
+Rufio_) the jackal. (_He goes out through the loggia._)
+
+CAESAR (_laughing approvingly_). Brave boy!
+
+CLEOPATRA (_jealous of Caesar's approbation, calling after Ptolemy_).
+Little silly. You think that very clever.
+
+CAESAR. Britannus: Attend the King. Give him in charge to that
+Pothinus fellow. (_Britannus goes out after Ptolemy._)
+
+RUFIO (_pointing to Cleopatra_). And this piece of goods? What is to
+be done with _her_? However, I suppose I may leave that to you. (_He
+goes out through the loggia._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_flushing suddenly and turning on Caesar_). Did you mean me
+to go with the rest?
+
+CAESAR (_a little preoccupied, goes with a sigh to Ptolemy's chair,
+whilst she waits for his answer with red cheeks and clenched fists_).
+You are free to do just as you please, Cleopatra.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Then you do not care whether I stay or not?
+
+CAESAR (_smiling_). Of course I had rather you stayed.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Much, _much_ rather?
+
+CAESAR (_nodding_). Much, much rather.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Then I consent to stay, because I am asked. But I do not
+want to, mind.
+
+CAESAR. That is quite understood. (_Calling_) Totateeta.
+
+_Ftatateeta, still seated, turns her eyes on him with a sinister
+expression, but does not move._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with a splutter of laughter_). Her name is not Totateeta:
+it is Ftatateeta. (_Calling_) Ftatateeta. (_Ftatateeta instantly rises
+and comes to Cleopatra._)
+
+CAESAR (_stumbling over the name_). Tfatafeeta will forgive the erring
+tongue of a Roman. Tota: the Queen will hold her state here in
+Alexandria. Engage women to attend upon her; and do all that is
+needful.
+
+FTATATEETA. Am I then the mistress of the Queen's household?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_sharply_). No: _I_ am the mistress of the Queen's
+household. Go and do as you are told, or I will have you thrown into
+the Nile this very afternoon, to poison the poor crocodiles.
+
+CAESAR (_shocked_). Oh no, no.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Oh yes, yes. You are very sentimental, Caesar; but you are
+clever; and if you do as I tell you, you will soon learn to govern.
+
+_Caesar, quite dumbfounded by this impertinence, turns in his chair
+and stares at her._
+
+_Ftatateeta, smiling grimly, and showing a splendid set of teeth,
+goes, leaving them alone together._
+
+CAESAR. Cleopatra: I really think I must eat you, after all.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_kneeling beside him and looking at him with eager
+interest, half real, half affected to shew how intelligent she is_).
+You must not talk to me now as if I were a child.
+
+CAESAR. You have been growing up since the Sphinx introduced us the
+other night; and you think you know more than I do already.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_taken down, and anxious to justify herself_). No: that
+would be very silly of me: of course I know that. But--(_suddenly_)
+are you angry with me?
+
+CAESAR. No.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_only half believing him_). Then why are you so thoughtful?
+
+CAESAR (_rising_). I have work to do, Cleopatra.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_drawing back_). Work! (_Offended_) You are tired of
+talking to me; and that is your excuse to get away from me.
+
+CAESAR (_sitting down again to appease her_). Well, well: another
+minute. But then--work!
+
+CLEOPATRA. Work! What nonsense! You must remember that you are a King
+now: I have made you one. Kings don't work.
+
+CAESAR. Oh! Who told you that, little kitten? Eh?
+
+CLEOPATRA. My father was King of Egypt; and he never worked. But he
+was a great king, and cut off my sister's head because she rebelled
+against him and took the throne from him.
+
+CAESAR. Well; and how did he get his throne back again?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_eagerly, her eyes lighting up_). I will tell you. A
+beautiful young man, with strong round arms, came over the desert with
+many horsemen, and slew my sister's husband and gave my father back
+his throne. (_Wistfully_) I was only twelve then. Oh, I wish he would
+come again, now that I am a Queen. I would make him my husband.
+
+CAESAR. It might be managed, perhaps; for it was I who sent that
+beautiful young man to help your father.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_enraptured_). You know him!
+
+CAESAR (_nodding_). I do.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Has he come with you? (_Caesar shakes his head: she is
+cruelly disappointed._) Oh, I wish he had, I wish he had. If only I
+were a little older; so that he might not think me a mere kitten, as
+you do! But perhaps that is because _you_ are old. He is many, _many_
+years younger than you, is he not?
+
+CAESAR (_as if swallowing a pill_). He is somewhat younger.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Would he be my husband, do you think, if I asked him?
+
+CAESAR. Very likely.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But I should not like to ask him. Could you not persuade
+him to ask me--without knowing that I wanted him to?
+
+CAESAR (_touched by her innocence of the beautiful young man's
+character_). My poor child!
+
+CLEOPATRA. Why do you say that as if you were sorry for me? Does he
+love anyone else?
+
+CAESAR. I am afraid so.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_tearfully_). Then I shall not be his first love.
+
+CAESAR. Not quite the first. He is greatly admired by women.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I wish I could be the first. But if he loves me, I will
+make him kill all the rest. Tell me: is he still beautiful? Do his
+strong round arms shine in the sun like marble?
+
+CAESAR. He is in excellent condition--considering how much he eats and
+drinks.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Oh, you must not say common, earthly things about him; for
+I love him. He is a god.
+
+CAESAR. He is a great captain of horsemen, and swifter of foot than
+any other Roman.
+
+CLEOPATRA. What is his real name?
+
+CAESAR (_puzzled_). His _real_ name?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes. I always call him Horus, because Horus is the most
+beautiful of our gods. But I want to know his real name.
+
+CAESAR. His name is Mark Antony.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_musically_). Mark Antony, Mark Antony, Mark Antony! What a
+beautiful name! (_She throws her arms round Caesar's neck._) Oh, how I
+love you for sending him to help my father! Did you love my father
+very much?
+
+CAESAR. No, my child; but your father, as you say, never worked. I
+always work. So when he lost his crown he had to promise me 16,000
+talents to get it back for him.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Did he ever pay you?
+
+CAESAR. Not in full.
+
+CLEOPATRA. He was quite right: it was too dear. The whole world is not
+worth 16,000 talents.
+
+CAESAR. That is perhaps true, Cleopatra. Those Egyptians who work paid
+as much of it as he could drag from them. The rest is still due. But
+as I most likely shall not get it, I must go back to my work. So you
+must run away for a little and send my secretary to me.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_coaxing_). No: I want to stay and hear you talk about Mark
+Antony.
+
+CAESAR. But if I do not get to work, Pothinus and the rest of them
+will cut us off from the harbor; and then the way from Rome will be
+blocked.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No matter: I don't want you to go back to Rome.
+
+CAESAR. But you want Mark Antony to come from it.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_springing up_). Oh yes, yes, yes: I forgot. Go quickly and
+work, Caesar; and keep the way over the sea open for my Mark Antony.
+(_She runs out through the loggia, kissing her hand to Mark Antony
+across the sea._)
+
+CAESAR (_going briskly up the middle of the hall to the loggia
+steps_). Ho, Britannus. (_He is startled by the entry of a wounded
+Roman soldier, who confronts him from the upper step._) What now?
+
+SOLDIER (_pointing to his bandaged head_). This, Caesar; and two of my
+comrades killed in the market place.
+
+CAESAR (_quiet but attending_). Ay. Why?
+
+SOLDIER. There is an army come to Alexandria, calling itself the Roman
+army.
+
+CAESAR. The Roman army of occupation. Ay?
+
+SOLDIER. Commanded by one Achillas.
+
+CAESAR. Well?
+
+SOLDIER. The citizens rose against us when the army entered the gates.
+I was with two others in the market place when the news came. They set
+upon us. I cut my way out; and here I am.
+
+CAESAR. Good. I am glad to see you alive. (_Rufio enters the loggia
+hastily, passing behind the soldier to look out through one of the
+arches at the quay beneath._) Rufio, we are besieged.
+
+RUFIO. What! Already?
+
+CAESAR. Now or to-morrow: what does it matter? We _shall_ be besieged.
+
+_Britannus runs in._
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar----
+
+CAESAR (_anticipating him_). Yes: I know. (_Rufio and Britannus come
+down the hall from the loggia at opposite sides, past Caesar, who
+waits for a moment near the step to say to the soldier._) Comrade:
+give the word to turn out on the beach and stand by the boats. Get
+your wound attended to. Go. (_The soldier hurries out. Caesar comes
+down the hall between Rufio and Britannus_) Rufio: we have some ships
+in the west harbor. Burn them.
+
+RUFIO (_staring_). Burn them!!
+
+CAESAR. Take every boat we have in the east harbor, and seize the
+Pharos--that island with the lighthouse. Leave half our men behind to
+hold the beach and the quay outside this palace: that is the way home.
+
+RUFIO (_disapproving strongly_). Are we to give up the city?
+
+CAESAR. We have not got it, Rufio. This palace we have; and--what is
+that building next door?
+
+RUFIO. The theatre.
+
+CAESAR. We will have that too: it commands the strand. For the rest,
+Egypt for the Egyptians!
+
+RUFIO. Well, you know best, I suppose. Is that all?
+
+CAESAR. That is all. Are those ships burnt yet?
+
+RUFIO. Be easy: I shall waste no more time. (_He runs out._)
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: Pothinus demands speech of you. It's my opinion he
+needs a lesson. His manner is most insolent.
+
+CAESAR. Where is he?
+
+BRITANNUS. He waits without.
+
+CAESAR. Ho there! Admit Pothinus.
+
+_Pothinus appears in the loggia, and comes down the hall very
+haughtily to Caesar's left hand._
+
+CAESAR. Well, Pothinus?
+
+POTHINUS. I have brought you our ultimatum, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Ultimatum! The door was open: you should have gone out through
+it before you declared war. You are my prisoner now. (_He goes to the
+chair and loosens his toga._)
+
+POTHINUS (_scornfully_). I _your_ prisoner! Do you know that you are
+in Alexandria, and that King Ptolemy, with an army outnumbering your
+little troop a hundred to one, is in possession of Alexandria?
+
+CAESAR (_unconcernedly taking off his toga and throwing it on the
+chair_). Well, my friend, get out if you can. And tell your friends
+not to kill any more Romans in the market place. Otherwise my
+soldiers, who do not share my celebrated clemency, will probably kill
+you. Britannus: pass the word to the guard; and fetch my armor.
+(_Britannus runs out. Rufio returns._) Well?
+
+RUFIO (_pointing from the loggia to a cloud of smoke drifting over the
+harbor_). See there! (_Pothinus runs eagerly up the steps to look
+out._)
+
+CAESAR. What, ablaze already! Impossible!
+
+RUFIO. Yes, five good ships, and a barge laden with oil grappled to
+each. But it is not my doing: the Egyptians have saved me the trouble.
+They have captured the west harbor.
+
+CAESAR (_anxiously_). And the east harbor? The lighthouse, Rufio?
+
+RUFIO (_with a sudden splutter of raging ill usage, coming down to
+Caesar and scolding him_). Can I embark a legion in five minutes? The
+first cohort is already on the beach. We can do no more. If you want
+faster work, come and do it yourself?
+
+CAESAR (_soothing him_). Good, good. Patience, Rufio, patience.
+
+RUFIO. Patience! Who is impatient here, you or I? Would I be here, if
+I could not oversee them from that balcony?
+
+CAESAR. Forgive me, Rufio; and (_anxiously_) hurry them as much as----
+
+_He is interrupted by an outcry as of an old man in the extremity of
+misfortune. It draws near rapidly; and Theodotus rushes in, tearing
+his hair, and squeaking the most lamentable exclamations. Rufio steps
+back to stare at him, amazed at his frantic condition. Pothinus turns
+to listen._
+
+THEODOTUS (_on the steps, with uplifted arms_). Horror unspeakable!
+Woe, alas! Help!
+
+RUFIO. What now?
+
+CAESAR (_frowning_). Who is slain?
+
+THEODOTUS. Slain! Oh, worse than the death of ten thousand men! Loss
+irreparable to mankind!
+
+RUFIO. What has happened, man?
+
+THEODOTUS (_rushing down the hall between them_). The fire has spread
+from your ships. The first of the seven wonders of the world perishes.
+The library of Alexandria is in flames.
+
+RUFIO. Psha! (_Quite relieved, he goes up to the loggia and watches
+the preparations of the troops on the beach._)
+
+CAESAR. Is that all?
+
+THEODOTUS (_unable to believe his senses_). All! Caesar: will you go
+down to posterity as a barbarous soldier too ignorant to know the
+value of books?
+
+CAESAR. Theodotus: I am an author myself; and I tell you it is better
+that the Egyptians should live their lives than dream them away with
+the help of books.
+
+THEODOTUS (_kneeling, with genuine literary emotion: the passion of
+the pedant_). Caesar: once in ten generations of men, the world gains
+an immortal book.
+
+CAESAR (_inflexible_). If it did not flatter mankind, the common
+executioner would burn it.
+
+THEODOTUS. Without history, death would lay you beside your meanest
+soldier.
+
+CAESAR. Death will do that in any case. I ask no better grave.
+
+THEODOTUS. What is burning there is the memory of mankind.
+
+CAESAR. A shameful memory. Let it burn.
+
+THEODOTUS (_wildly_). Will you destroy the past?
+
+CAESAR. Ay, and build the future with its ruins. (_Theodotus, in
+despair, strikes himself on the temples with his fists._) But harken,
+Theodotus, teacher of kings: you who valued Pompey's head no more than
+a shepherd values an onion, and who now kneel to me, with tears in
+your old eyes, to plead for a few sheepskins scrawled with errors. I
+cannot spare you a man or a bucket of water just now; but you shall
+pass freely out of the palace. Now, away with you to Achillas; and
+borrow his legions to put out the fire. (_He hurries him to the
+steps._)
+
+POTHINUS (_significantly_). You understand, Theodotus: I remain a
+prisoner.
+
+THEODOTUS. A prisoner!
+
+CAESAR. Will you stay to talk whilst the memory of mankind is burning?
+(_Calling through the loggia_) Ho there! Pass Theodotus out. (_To
+Theodotus_) Away with you.
+
+THEODOTUS (_to Pothinus_). I must go to save the library. (_He hurries
+out._)
+
+CAESAR. Follow him to the gate, Pothinus. Bid him urge your people to
+kill no more of my soldiers, for your sake.
+
+POTHINUS. My life will cost you dear if you take it, Caesar. (_He goes
+out after Theodotus._)
+
+_Rufio, absorbed in watching the embarkation, does not notice the
+departure of the two Egyptians._
+
+RUFIO (_shouting from the loggia to the beach_). All ready, there?
+
+A CENTURION (_from below_). All ready. We wait for Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Tell them Caesar is coming--the rogues! (_Calling_)
+Britannicus. (_This magniloquent version of his secretary's name is
+one of Caesar's jokes. In later years it would have meant, quite
+seriously and officially, Conqueror of Britain._)
+
+RUFIO (_calling down_). Push off, all except the longboat. Stand by it
+to embark, Caesar's guard there. (_He leaves the balcony and comes
+down into the hall._) Where are those Egyptians? Is this more
+clemency? Have you let them go?
+
+CAESAR (_chuckling_). I have let Theodotus go to save the library. We
+must respect literature, Rufio.
+
+RUFIO (_raging_). Folly on folly's head! I believe if you could bring
+back all the dead of Spain, Gaul and Thessaly to life, you would do it
+that we might have the trouble of fighting them over again.
+
+CAESAR. Might not the gods destroy the world if their only thought
+were to be at peace next year? (_Rufio, out of all patience, turns
+away in anger. Caesar suddenly grips his sleeve, and adds slyly in his
+ear._) Besides, my friend: every Egyptian we imprison means
+imprisoning two Roman soldiers to guard him. Eh?
+
+RUFIO. Agh! I might have known there was some fox's trick behind your
+fine talking. (_He gets away from Caesar with an ill-humored shrug,
+and goes to the balcony for another look at the preparations; finally
+goes out._)
+
+CAESAR. Is Britannus asleep? I sent him for my armor an hour ago.
+(_Calling_) Britannicus, thou British islander. Britannicus!
+
+_Cleopatra runs in through the loggia with Caesar's helmet and sword,
+snatched from Britannus, who follows her with a cuirass and greaves.
+They come down to Caesar, she to his left hand, Britannus to his
+right._
+
+CLEOPATRA. I am going to dress you, Caesar. Sit down. (_He obeys._)
+These Roman helmets are so becoming! (_She takes off his wreath._) Oh!
+(_She bursts out laughing at him._)
+
+CAESAR. What are you laughing at?
+
+CLEOPATRA. You're bald (_beginning with a big B, and ending with a
+splutter_).
+
+CAESAR (_almost annoyed_). Cleopatra! (_He rises, for the convenience
+of Britannus, who puts the cuirass on him._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. So that is why you wear the wreath--to hide it.
+
+BRITANNUS. Peace, Egyptian: they are the bays of the conqueror. (_He
+buckles the cuirass._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. Peace, thou: islander! (_To Caesar_) You should rub your
+head with strong spirits of sugar, Caesar. That will make it grow.
+
+CAESAR (_with a wry face_). Cleopatra: do you like to be reminded that
+you are very young?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pouting_). No.
+
+CAESAR (_sitting down again, and setting out his leg for Britannus,
+who kneels to put on his greaves_). Neither do I like to be reminded
+that I am--middle aged. Let me give you ten of my superfluous years.
+That will make you 26 and leave me only--no matter. Is it a bargain?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Agreed. 26, mind. (_She puts the helmet on him._) Oh! How
+nice! You look only about 50 in it!
+
+BRITANNUS (_Looking up severely at Cleopatra_). You must not speak in
+this manner to Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Is it true that when Caesar caught you on that island, you
+were painted all over blue?
+
+BRITANNUS. Blue is the color worn by all Britons of good standing. In
+war we stain our bodies blue; so that though our enemies may strip us
+of our clothes and our lives, they cannot strip us of our
+respectability. (_He rises._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with Caesar's sword_). Let me hang this on. Now you look
+splendid. Have they made any statues of you in Rome?
+
+CAESAR. Yes, many statues.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You must send for one and give it to me.
+
+RUFIO (_coming back into the loggia, more impatient than ever_). Now
+Caesar: have you done talking? The moment your foot is aboard there
+will be no holding our men back: the boats will race one another for
+the lighthouse.
+
+CAESAR (_drawing his sword and trying the edge_). Is this well set
+to-day, Britannicus? At Pharsalia it was as blunt as a barrel-hoop.
+
+BRITANNUS. It will split one of the Egyptian's hairs to-day, Caesar. I
+have set it myself.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_suddenly throwing her arms in terror round Caesar_). Oh,
+you are not really going into battle to be killed?
+
+CAESAR. No, Cleopatra. No man goes to battle to be killed.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But they _do_ get killed. My sister's husband was killed in
+battle. You must not go. Let _him_ go (_pointing to Rufio. They all
+laugh at her_). Oh please, _please_ don't go. What will happen to _me_
+if you never come back?
+
+CAESAR (_gravely_). Are you afraid?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_shrinking_). No.
+
+CAESAR (_with quiet authority_). Go to the balcony; and you shall see
+us take the Pharos. You must learn to look on battles. Go. (_She goes,
+downcast, and looks out from the balcony._) That is well. Now, Rufio.
+March.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_suddenly clapping her hands_). Oh, you will not be able to
+go!
+
+CAESAR. Why? What now?
+
+CLEOPATRA. They are drying up the harbor with buckets--a multitude of
+soldiers--over there (_pointing out across the sea to her left_)--they
+are dipping up the water.
+
+RUFIO (_hastening to look_). It is true. The Egyptian army! Crawling
+over the edge of the west harbor like locusts. (_With sudden anger he
+strides down to Caesar._) This is your accursed clemency, Caesar.
+Theodotus has brought them.
+
+CAESAR (_delighted at his own cleverness_). I meant him to, Rufio.
+They have come to put out the fire. The library will keep them busy
+whilst we seize the lighthouse. Eh? (_He rushes out buoyantly through
+the loggia, followed by Britannus._)
+
+RUFIO (_disgustedly_). More foxing! Agh! (_He rushes off. A shout from
+the soldiers announces the appearance of Caesar below._)
+
+CENTURION (_below_). All aboard. Give way there. (_Another shout._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_waving her scarf through the loggia arch_). Goodbye,
+goodbye, dear Caesar. Come back safe. Goodbye!
+
+
+ACT III
+
+_The edge of the quay in front of the palace, looking out west over
+the east harbor of Alexandria to Pharos island, just off the end of
+which, and connected with it by a narrow mole, is the famous
+lighthouse, a gigantic square tower of white marble diminishing in
+size storey by storey to the top, on which stands a cresset beacon.
+The island is joined to the main land by the Heptastadium, a great
+mole or causeway five miles long bounding the harbor on the south._
+
+_In the middle of the quay a Roman sentinel stands on guard, pilum in
+hand, looking out to the lighthouse with strained attention, his left
+hand shading his eyes. The pilum is a stout wooden shaft 4½ feet
+long, with an iron spit about three feet long fixed in it. The
+sentinel is so absorbed that he does not notice the approach from the
+north end of the quay of four Egyptian market porters carrying rolls
+of carpet, preceded by Ftatateeta and Apollodorus the Sicilian.
+Apollodorus is a dashing young man of about 24, handsome and debonair,
+dressed with deliberate æstheticism in the most delicate purples and
+dove greys, with ornaments of bronze, oxydized silver, and stones of
+jade and agate. His sword, designed as carefully as a medieval cross,
+has a blued blade showing through an openwork scabbard of purple
+leather and filagree. The porters, conducted by Ftatateeta, pass along
+the quay behind the sentinel to the steps of the palace, where they
+put down their bales and squat on the ground. Apollodorus does not
+pass along with them: he halts, amused by the preoccupation of the
+sentinel._
+
+
+APOLLODORUS (_calling to the sentinel_). Who goes there, eh?
+
+SENTINEL (_starting violently and turning with his pilum at the
+charge, revealing himself as a small, wiry, sandy-haired,
+conscientious young man with an elderly face_). What's this? Stand.
+Who are you?
+
+APOLLODORUS. I am Apollodorus the Sicilian. Why, man, what are you
+dreaming of? Since I came through the lines beyond the theatre there,
+I have brought my caravan past three sentinels, all so busy staring at
+the lighthouse that not one of them challenged me. Is this Roman
+discipline?
+
+SENTINEL. We are not here to watch the land but the sea. Caesar has
+just landed on the Pharos. (_Looking at Ftatateeta_) What have you
+here? Who is this piece of Egyptian crockery?
+
+FTATATEETA. Apollodorus: rebuke this Roman dog; and bid him bridle his
+tongue in the presence of Ftatateeta, the mistress of the Queen's
+household.
+
+APOLLODORUS. My friend: this is a great lady, who stands high with
+Caesar.
+
+SENTINEL (_not at all impressed, pointing to the carpets_). And what
+is all this truck?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Carpets for the furnishing of the Queen's apartments in
+the palace. I have picked them from the best carpets in the world; and
+the Queen shall choose the best of my choosing.
+
+SENTINEL. So you are the carpet merchant?
+
+APOLLODORUS (_hurt_). My friend: I am a patrician.
+
+SENTINEL. A patrician! A patrician keeping a shop instead of following
+arms!
+
+APOLLODORUS. I do not keep a shop. Mine is a temple of the arts. I am
+a worshipper of beauty. My calling is to choose beautiful things for
+beautiful Queens. My motto is Art for Art's sake.
+
+SENTINEL. That is not the password.
+
+APOLLODORUS. It is a universal password.
+
+SENTINEL. I know nothing about universal passwords. Either give me the
+password for the day or get back to your shop.
+
+_Ftatateeta, roused by his hostile tone, steals towards the edge of
+the quay with the step of a panther, and gets behind him._
+
+APOLLODORUS. How if I do neither?
+
+SENTINEL. Then I will drive this pilum through you.
+
+APOLLODORUS. At your service, my friend. (_He draws his sword, and
+springs to his guard with unruffled grace._)
+
+FTATATEETA (_suddenly seizing the sentinel's arms from behind_).
+Thrust your knife into the dog's throat, Apollodorus. (_The chivalrous
+Apollodorus laughingly shakes his head; breaks ground away from the
+sentinel towards the palace; and lowers his point._)
+
+SENTINEL (_struggling vainly_). Curse on you! Let me go. Help ho!
+
+FTATATEETA (_lifting him from the ground_). Stab the little Roman
+reptile. Spit him on your sword.
+
+_A couple of Roman soldiers, with a centurion, come running along the
+edge of the quay from the north end. They rescue their comrade, and
+throw off Ftatateeta, who is sent reeling away on the left hand of the
+sentinel._
+
+CENTURION (_an unattractive man of fifty, short in his speech and
+manners, with a vine wood cudgel in his hand_). How now? What is all
+this?
+
+FTATATEETA (_to Apollodorus_). Why did you not stab him? There was
+time!
+
+APOLLODORUS. Centurion: I am here by order of the Queen to----
+
+CENTURION (_interrupting him_). The Queen! Yes, yes: (_to the
+sentinel_) pass him in. Pass all these bazaar people in to the Queen,
+with their goods. But mind you pass no one out that you have not
+passed in--not even the Queen herself.
+
+SENTINEL. This old woman is dangerous: she is as strong as three men.
+She wanted the merchant to stab me.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Centurion: I am not a merchant. I am a patrician and a
+votary of art.
+
+CENTURION. Is the woman your wife?
+
+APOLLODORUS (_horrified_). No, no! (_Correcting himself politely_) Not
+that the lady is not a striking figure in her own way. But
+(_emphatically_) she is _not_ my wife.
+
+FTATATEETA (_to the Centurion_). Roman: I am Ftatateeta, the mistress
+of the Queen's household.
+
+CENTURION. Keep your hands off our men, mistress; or I will have you
+pitched into the harbor, though you were as strong as ten men. (_To
+his men_) To your posts: march! (_He returns with his men the way they
+came._)
+
+FTATATEETA (_looking malignantly after him_). We shall see whom Isis
+loves best: her servant Ftatateeta or a dog of a Roman.
+
+SENTINEL (_to Apollodorus, with a wave of his pilum towards the
+palace_). Pass in there; and keep your distance. (_Turning to
+Ftatateeta_) Come within a yard of me, you old crocodile; and I will
+give you this (_the pilum_) in your jaws.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_calling from the palace_). Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta.
+
+FTATATEETA (_Looking up, scandalized_). Go from the window, go from
+the window. There are men here.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I am coming down.
+
+FTATATEETA (_distracted_). No, no. What are you dreaming of? O ye
+gods, ye gods! Apollodorus: bid your men pick up your bales; and in
+with me quickly.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Obey the mistress of the Queen's household.
+
+FTATATEETA (_impatiently, as the porters stoop to lift the bales_).
+Quick, quick: she will be out upon us. (_Cleopatra comes from the
+palace and runs across the quay to Ftatateeta._) Oh that ever I was
+born!
+
+CLEOPATRA (_eagerly_). Ftatateeta: I have thought of something. I want
+a boat--at once.
+
+FTATATEETA. A boat! No, no: you cannot. Apollodorus: speak to the
+Queen.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_gallantly_). Beautiful Queen: I am Apollodorus the
+Sicilian, your servant, from the bazaar. I have brought you the three
+most beautiful Persian carpets in the world to choose from.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I have no time for carpets to-day. Get me a boat.
+
+FTATATEETA. What whim is this? You cannot go on the water except in
+the royal barge.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Royalty, Ftatateeta, lies not in the barge but in the
+Queen. (_To Cleopatra_) The touch of your majesty's foot on the
+gunwale of the meanest boat in the harbor will make it royal. (_He
+turns to the harbor and calls seaward_) Ho there, boatman! Pull in to
+the steps.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Apollodorus: you are my perfect knight; and I will always
+buy my carpets through you. (_Apollodorus bows joyously. An oar
+appears above the quay; and the boatman, a bullet-headed, vivacious,
+grinning fellow, burnt almost black by the sun, comes up a flight of
+steps from the water on the sentinel's right, oar in hand, and waits
+at the top._) Can you row, Apollodorus?
+
+APOLLODORUS. My oars shall be your majesty's wings. Whither shall I
+row my Queen?
+
+CLEOPATRA. To the lighthouse. Come. (_She makes for the steps._)
+
+SENTINEL (_opposing her with his pilum at the charge_). Stand. You
+cannot pass.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_flushing angrily_). How dare you? Do you know that I am
+the Queen?
+
+SENTINEL. I have my orders. You cannot pass.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I will make Caesar have you killed if you do not obey me.
+
+SENTINEL. He will do worse to me if I disobey my officer. Stand back.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Ftatateeta: strangle him.
+
+SENTINEL (_alarmed--looking apprehensively at Ftatateeta, and
+brandishing his pilum_). Keep off, there.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_running to Apollodorus_). Apollodorus: make your slaves
+help us.
+
+APOLLODORUS. I shall not need their help, lady. (_He draws his
+sword._) Now soldier: choose which weapon you will defend yourself
+with. Shall it be sword against pilum, or sword against sword?
+
+SENTINEL. Roman against Sicilian, curse you. Take that. (_He hurls his
+pilum at Apollodorus, who drops expertly on one knee. The pilum passes
+whizzing over his head and falls harmless. Apollodorus, with a cry of
+triumph, springs up and attacks the sentinel, who draws his sword and
+defends himself, crying_) Ho there, guard. Help!
+
+_Cleopatra, half frightened, half delighted, takes refuge near the
+palace, where the porters are squatting among the bales. The boatman,
+alarmed, hurries down the steps out of harm's way, but stops, with his
+head just visible above the edge of the quay, to watch the fight. The
+sentinel is handicapped by his fear of an attack in the rear from
+Ftatateeta. His swordsmanship, which is of a rough and ready sort, is
+heavily taxed, as he has occasionally to strike at her to keep her off
+between a blow and a guard with Apollodorus. The Centurion returns
+with several soldiers. Apollodorus springs back towards Cleopatra as
+this reinforcement confronts him._
+
+CENTURION (_coming to the sentinel's right hand_). What is this? What
+now?
+
+SENTINEL (_panting_). I could do well enough for myself if it weren't
+for the old woman. Keep her off me: that is all the help I need.
+
+CENTURION. Make your report, soldier. What has happened?
+
+FTATATEETA. Centurion: he would have slain the Queen.
+
+SENTINEL (_bluntly_). I would, sooner than let her pass. She wanted to
+take boat, and go--so she said--to the lighthouse. I stopped her, as
+I was ordered to; and she set this fellow on me. (_He goes to pick up
+his pilum and returns to his place with it._)
+
+CENTURION (_turning to Cleopatra_). Cleopatra: I am loth to offend
+you; but without Caesar's express order we dare not let you pass
+beyond the Roman lines.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Well, Centurion; and has not the lighthouse been within
+the Roman lines since Caesar landed there?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes, yes. Answer that, if you can.
+
+CENTURION (_to Apollodorus_). As for you, Apollodorus, you may thank
+the gods that you are not nailed to the palace door with a pilum for
+your meddling.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_urbanely_). My military friend, I was not born to be
+slain by so ugly a weapon. When I fall, it will be (_holding up his
+sword_) by this white queen of arms, the only weapon fit for an
+artist. And now that you are convinced that we do not want to go
+beyond the lines, let me finish killing your sentinel and depart with
+the Queen.
+
+CENTURION (_as the sentinel makes an angry demonstration_). Peace
+there. Cleopatra. I must abide by my orders, and not by the subtleties
+of this Sicilian. You must withdraw into the palace and examine your
+carpets there.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pouting_). I will not: I am the Queen. Caesar does not
+speak to me as you do. Have Caesar's centurions changed manners with
+his scullions?
+
+CENTURION (_sulkily_). I do my duty. That is enough for me.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Majesty: when a stupid man is doing something he is
+ashamed of, he always declares that it is his duty.
+
+CENTURION (_angry_). Apollodorus----
+
+APOLLODORUS (_interrupting him with defiant elegance_). I will make
+amends for that insult with my sword at fitting time and place. Who
+says artist, says duelist. (_To Cleopatra_) Hear my counsel, star of
+the east. Until word comes to these soldiers from Caesar himself, you
+are a prisoner. Let me go to him with a message from you, and a
+present; and before the sun has stooped half way to the arms of the
+sea, I will bring you back Caesar's order of release.
+
+CENTURION (_sneering at him_). And you will sell the Queen the
+present, no doubt.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Centurion: the Queen shall have from me, without payment,
+as the unforced tribute of Sicilian taste to Egyptian beauty, the
+richest of these carpets for her present to Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_exultantly, to the Centurion_). Now you see what an
+ignorant common creature you are!
+
+CENTURION (_curtly_). Well, a fool and his wares are soon parted. (_He
+turns to his men_) Two more men to this post here; and see that no one
+leaves the palace but this man and his merchandize. If he draws his
+sword again inside the lines, kill him. To your posts. March.
+
+_He goes out, leaving two auxiliary sentinels with the other._
+
+APOLLODORUS (_with polite goodfellowship_). My friends: will you not
+enter the palace and bury our quarrel in a bowl of wine? (_He takes
+out his purse, jingling the coins in it._) The Queen has presents for
+you all.
+
+SENTINEL (_very sulky_). You heard our orders. Get about your
+business.
+
+FIRST AUXILIARY. Yes: you ought to know better. Off with you.
+
+SECOND AUXILIARY (_looking longingly at the purse--this sentinel is a
+hooknosed man, unlike his comrade, who is squab faced_). Do not
+tantalize a poor man.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_to Cleopatra_). Pearl of Queens: the Centurion is at
+hand; and the Roman soldier is incorruptible when his officer is
+looking. I must carry your word to Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_who has been meditating among the carpets_). Are these
+carpets very heavy?
+
+APOLLODORUS. It matters not how heavy. There are plenty of porters.
+
+CLEOPATRA. How do they put the carpets into boats? Do they throw them
+down?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Not into small boats, majesty. It would sink them.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Not into that man's boat, for instance? (_Pointing to the
+boatman._)
+
+APOLLODORUS. No. Too small.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But you can take a carpet to Caesar in it if I send one?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Assuredly.
+
+CLEOPATRA. And you will have it carried gently down the steps and take
+great care of it?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Depend on me.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Great, _great_ care?
+
+APOLLODORUS. More than of my own body.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You will promise me not to let the porters drop it or throw
+it about?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Place the most delicate glass goblet in the palace in the
+heart of the roll, Queen; and if it be broken, my head shall pay for
+it.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Good. Come, Ftatateeta. (_Ftatateeta comes to her.
+Apollodorus offers to squire them into the palace._) No, Apollodorus,
+you must not come. I will choose a carpet for myself. You must wait
+here. (_She runs into the palace._)
+
+APOLLODORUS (_to the porters_). Follow this lady (_indicating
+Ftatateeta_); and obey her.
+
+_The porters rise and take up their bales._
+
+FTATATEETA (_addressing the porters as if they were vermin_). This
+way. And take your shoes off before you put your feet on those stairs.
+
+_She goes in, followed by the porters with the carpets. Meanwhile
+Apollodorus goes to the edge of the quay and looks out over the
+harbor. The sentinels keep their eyes on him malignantly._
+
+APOLLODORUS (_addressing the sentinel_). My friend----
+
+SENTINEL (_rudely_). Silence there.
+
+FIRST AUXILIARY. Shut your muzzle, you.
+
+SECOND AUXILIARY (_in a half whisper, glancing apprehensively towards
+the north end of the quay_). Can't you wait a bit?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Patience, worthy three-headed donkey. (_They mutter
+ferociously; but he is not at all intimidated._) Listen: were you set
+here to watch me, or to watch the Egyptians?
+
+SENTINEL. We know our duty.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Then why don't you do it? There's something going on over
+there. (_Pointing southwestward to the mole._)
+
+SENTINEL (_sulkily_). I do not need to be told what to do by the like
+of you.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Blockhead. (_He begins shouting_) Ho there, Centurion.
+Hoiho!
+
+SENTINEL. Curse your meddling. (_Shouting_) Hoiho! Alarm! Alarm!
+
+FIRST AND SECOND AUXILIARIES. Alarm! alarm! Hoiho!
+
+_The Centurion comes running in with his guard._
+
+CENTURION. What now? Has the old woman attacked you again? (_Seeing
+Apollodorus_) Are _you_ here still?
+
+APOLLODORUS (_pointing as before_). See there. The Egyptians are
+moving. They are going to recapture the Pharos. They will attack by
+sea and land: by land along the great mole; by sea from the west
+harbor. Stir yourselves, my military friends: the hunt is up. (_A
+clangor of trumpets from several points along the quay._) Aha! I told
+you so.
+
+CENTURION (_quickly_). The two extra men pass the alarm to the south
+posts. One man keep guard here. The rest with me--quick.
+
+_The two auxiliary sentinels run off to the south. The Centurion and
+his guard run off northward; and immediately afterwards the bucina
+sounds. The four porters come from the palace carrying a carpet,
+followed by Ftatateeta._
+
+SENTINEL (_handling his pilum apprehensively_). You again! (_The
+porters stop._)
+
+FTATATEETA. Peace, Roman fellow: you are now single-handed.
+Apollodorus: this carpet is Cleopatra's present to Caesar. It has
+rolled up in it ten precious goblets of the thinnest Iberian crystal,
+and a hundred eggs of the sacred blue pigeon. On your honor, let not
+one of them be broken.
+
+APOLLODORUS. On my head be it. (_To the porters_) Into the boat with
+them carefully.
+
+_The porters carry the carpet to the steps._
+
+FIRST PORTER (_looking down at the boat_). Beware what you do, sir.
+Those eggs of which the lady speaks must weigh more than a pound
+apiece. This boat is too small for such a load.
+
+BOATMAN (_excitedly rushing up the steps_). Oh thou injurious porter!
+Oh thou unnatural son of a she-camel! (_To Apollodorus_) My boat, sir,
+hath often carried five men. Shall it not carry your lordship and a
+bale of pigeons' eggs? (_To the porter_) Thou mangey dromedary, the
+gods shall punish thee for this envious wickedness.
+
+FIRST PORTER (_stolidly_). I cannot quit this bale now to beat thee;
+but another day I will lie in wait for thee.
+
+APPOLODORUS (_going between them_). Peace there. If the boat were but
+a single plank, I would get to Caesar on it.
+
+FTATATEETA (_anxiously_). In the name of the gods, Apollodorus, run no
+risks with that bale.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Fear not, thou venerable grotesque: I guess its great
+worth. (_To the porters_) Down with it, I say; and gently; or ye shall
+eat nothing but stick for ten days.
+
+_The boatman goes down the steps, followed by the porters with the
+bale: Ftatateeta and Apollodorus watching from the edge._
+
+APOLLODORUS. Gently, my sons, my children--(_with sudden alarm_)
+gently, ye dogs. Lay it level in the stern--so--'tis well.
+
+FTATATEETA (_screaming down at one of the porters_). Do not step on
+it, do not step on it. Oh thou brute beast!
+
+FIRST PORTER (_ascending_). Be not excited, mistress: all is well.
+
+FTATATEETA (_panting_). All well! Oh, thou hast given my heart a turn!
+(_She clutches her side, gasping._)
+
+_The four porters have now come up and are waiting at the stairhead to
+be paid._
+
+APOLLODORUS. Here, ye hungry ones. (_He gives money to the first
+porter, who holds it in his hand to shew to the others. They crowd
+greedily to see how much it is, quite prepared, after the Eastern
+fashion, to protest to heaven against their patron's stinginess. But
+his liberality overpowers them._)
+
+FIRST PORTER. O bounteous prince!
+
+SECOND PORTER. O lord of the bazaar!
+
+THIRD PORTER. O favored of the gods!
+
+FOURTH PORTER. O father to all the porters of the market!
+
+SENTINEL (_enviously, threatening them fiercely with his pilum_).
+Hence, dogs: off. Out of this. (_They fly before him northward along
+the quay._)
+
+APOLLODORUS. Farewell, Ftatateeta. I shall be at the lighthouse before
+the Egyptians. (_He descends the steps._)
+
+FTATATEETA. The gods speed thee and protect my nursling!
+
+_The sentry returns from chasing the porters and looks down at the
+boat, standing near the stairhead lest Ftatateeta should attempt to
+escape._
+
+APOLLODORUS (_from beneath, as the boat moves off_). Farewell, valiant
+pilum pitcher.
+
+SENTINEL. Farewell shopkeeper.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Ha, ha! Pull, thou brave boatman, pull. Soho-o-o-o-o!
+(_He begins to sing in barcarolle measure to the rhythm of the oars_)
+
+    My heart, my heart, spread out thy wings:
+    Shake off thy heavy load of love--
+
+Give me the oars, O son of a snail.
+
+SENTINEL (_threatening Ftatateeta_). Now mistress: back to your
+henhouse. In with you.
+
+FTATATEETA (_falling on her knees and stretching her hands over the
+waters_). Gods of the seas, bear her safely to the shore!
+
+SENTINEL. Bear _who_ safely? What do you mean?
+
+FTATATEETA (_looking darkly at him_). Gods of Egypt and of Vengeance,
+let this Roman fool be beaten like a dog by his captain for suffering
+her to be taken over the waters.
+
+SENTINEL. Accursed one: is she then in the boat? (_He calls over the
+sea_) Hoiho, there, boatman! Hoiho!
+
+APOLLODORUS (_singing in the distance_).
+
+    My heart, my heart, be whole and free:
+    Love is thine only enemy.
+
+_Meanwhile Rufio, the morning's fighting done, sits munching dates on
+a faggot of brushwood outside the door of the lighthouse, which towers
+gigantic to the clouds on his left. His helmet, full of dates, is
+between his knees; and a leathern bottle of wine is by his side.
+Behind him the great stone pedestal of the lighthouse is shut in from
+the open sea by a low stone parapet, with a couple of steps in the
+middle to the broad coping. A huge chain with a hook hangs down from
+the lighthouse crane above his head. Faggots like the one he sits on
+lie beneath it ready to be drawn up to feed the beacon._
+
+_Caesar is standing on the step at the parapet looking out anxiously,
+evidently ill at ease. Britannus comes out of the lighthouse door._
+
+RUFIO. Well, my British islander. Have you been up to the top?
+
+BRITANNUS. I have. I reckon it at 200 feet high.
+
+RUFIO. Anybody up there?
+
+BRITANNUS. One elderly Tyrian to work the crane; and his son, a well
+conducted youth of 14.
+
+RUFIO (_looking at the chain_). What! An old man and a boy work that!
+Twenty men, you mean.
+
+BRITANNUS. Two only, I assure you. They have counterweights, and a
+machine with boiling water in it which I do not understand: it is not
+of British design. They use it to haul up barrels of oil and faggots
+to burn in the brazier on the roof.
+
+RUFIO. But----
+
+BRITANNUS. Excuse me: I came down because there are messengers coming
+along the mole to us from the island. I must see what their business
+is. (_He hurries out past the lighthouse._)
+
+CAESAR (_coming away from the parapet, shivering and out of sorts_).
+Rufio: this has been a mad expedition. We shall be beaten. I wish I
+knew how our men are getting on with that barricade across the great
+mole.
+
+RUFIO (_angrily_). Must I leave my food and go starving to bring you a
+report?
+
+CAESAR (_soothing him nervously_). No, Rufio, no. Eat, my son. Eat.
+(_He takes another turn, Rufio chewing dates meanwhile._) The
+Egyptians cannot be such fools as not to storm the barricade and swoop
+down on us here before it is finished. It is the first time I have
+ever run an avoidable risk. I should not have come to Egypt.
+
+RUFIO. An hour ago you were all for victory.
+
+CAESAR (_apologetically_). Yes: I was a fool--rash, Rufio--boyish.
+
+RUFIO. Boyish! Not a bit of it. Here. (_Offering him a handful of
+dates._)
+
+CAESAR. What are these for?
+
+RUFIO. To eat. That's what's the matter with you. When a man comes to
+your age, he runs down before his midday meal. Eat and drink; and then
+have another look at our chances.
+
+CAESAR (_taking the dates_). My age! (_He shakes his head and bites a
+date._) Yes, Rufio: I am an old man--worn out now--true, quite true.
+(_He gives way to melancholy contemplation, and eats another date._)
+Achillas is still in his prime: Ptolemy is a boy. (_He eats another
+date, and plucks up a little._) Well, every dog has his day; and I
+have had mine: I cannot complain. (_With sudden cheerfulness_) These
+dates are not bad, Rufio. (_Britannus returns, greatly excited, with a
+leathern bag. Caesar is himself again in a moment._) What now?
+
+BRITANNUS (_triumphantly_). Our brave Rhodian mariners have captured a
+treasure. There! (_He throws the bag down at Caesar's feet._) Our
+enemies are delivered into our hands.
+
+CAESAR. In that bag?
+
+BRITANNUS. Wait till you hear, Caesar. This bag contains all the
+letters which have passed between Pompey's party and the army of
+occupation here.
+
+CAESAR. Well?
+
+BRITANNUS (_impatient of Caesar's slowness to grasp the situation_).
+Well, we shall now know who your foes are. The name of every man who
+has plotted against you since you crossed the Rubicon may be in these
+papers, for all we know.
+
+CAESAR. Put them in the fire.
+
+BRITANNUS. Put them--(_he gasps_)!!!!
+
+CAESAR. In the fire. Would you have me waste the next three years of
+my life in proscribing and condemning men who will be my friends when
+I have proved that my friendship is worth more than Pompey's was--than
+Cato's is. O incorrigible British islander: am I a bull dog, to seek
+quarrels merely to shew how stubborn my jaws are?
+
+BRITANNUS. But your honor--the honor of Rome----
+
+CAESAR. I do not make human sacrifices to my honor, as your Druids do.
+Since you will not burn these, at least I can drown them. (_He picks
+up the bag and throws it over the parapet into the sea._)
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: this is mere eccentricity. Are traitors to be
+allowed to go free for the sake of a paradox?
+
+RUFIO (_rising_). Caesar: when the islander has finished preaching,
+call me again. I am going to have a look at the boiling water machine.
+(_He goes into the lighthouse._)
+
+BRITANNUS (_with genuine feeling_). O Caesar, my great master, if I
+could but persuade you to regard life seriously, as men do in my
+country!
+
+CAESAR. Do they truly do so, Britannus?
+
+BRITANNUS. Have you not been there? Have you not seen them? What
+Briton speaks as you do in your moments of levity? What Briton
+neglects to attend the services at the sacred grove? What Briton wears
+clothes of many colors as you do, instead of plain blue, as all solid,
+well esteemed men should? These are moral questions with us.
+
+CAESAR. Well, well, my friend: some day I shall settle down and have a
+blue toga, perhaps. Meanwhile, I must get on as best I can in my
+flippant Roman way. (_Apollodorus comes past the lighthouse._) What
+now?
+
+BRITANNUS (_turning quickly, and challenging the stranger with
+official haughtiness_). What is this? Who are you? How did you come
+here?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Calm yourself, my friend: I am not going to eat you. I
+have come by boat, from Alexandria, with precious gifts for Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. From Alexandria!
+
+BRITANNUS (_severely_). That is Caesar, sir.
+
+RUFIO (_appearing at the lighthouse door_). What's the matter now?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Hail, great Caesar! I am Apollodorus the Sicilian, an
+artist.
+
+BRITANNUS. An artist! Why have they admitted this vagabond?
+
+CAESAR. Peace, man. Apollodorus is a famous patrician amateur.
+
+BRITANNUS (_disconcerted_). I crave the gentleman's pardon. (_To
+Caesar_) I understood him to say that he was a professional.
+(_Somewhat out of countenance, he allows Apollodorus to approach
+Caesar, changing places with him. Rufio, after looking Apollodorus up
+and down with marked disparagement, goes to the other side of the
+platform._)
+
+CAESAR. You are welcome, Apollodorus. What is your business?
+
+APOLLODORUS. First, to deliver to you a present from the Queen of
+Queens.
+
+CAESAR. Who is that?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Cleopatra of Egypt.
+
+CAESAR (_taking him into his confidence in his most winning manner_).
+Apollodorus: this is no time for playing with presents. Pray you, go
+back to the Queen, and tell her that if all goes well I shall return
+to the palace this evening.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Caesar: I cannot return. As I approached the lighthouse,
+some fool threw a great leathern bag into the sea. It broke the nose
+of my boat; and I had hardly time to get myself and my charge to the
+shore before the poor little cockleshell sank.
+
+CAESAR. I am sorry, Apollodorus. The fool shall be rebuked. Well,
+well: what have you brought me? The Queen will be hurt if I do not
+look at it.
+
+RUFIO. Have we time to waste on this trumpery? The Queen is only a
+child.
+
+CAESAR. Just so: that is why we must not disappoint her. What is the
+present, Apollodorus?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Caesar: it is a Persian carpet--a beauty! And in it
+are--so I am told--pigeons' eggs and crystal goblets and fragile
+precious things. I dare not for my head have it carried up that narrow
+ladder from the causeway.
+
+RUFIO. Swing it up by the crane, then. We will send the eggs to the
+cook; drink our wine from the goblets; and the carpet will make a bed
+for Caesar.
+
+APOLLODORUS. The crane! Caesar: I have sworn to tender this bale of
+carpet as I tender my own life.
+
+CAESAR (_cheerfully_). Then let them swing you up at the same time;
+and if the chain breaks, you and the pigeons' eggs will perish
+together. (_He goes to the chain and looks up along it, examining it
+curiously._)
+
+APOLLODORUS (_to Britannus_). Is Caesar serious?
+
+BRITANNUS. His manner is frivolous because he is an Italian; but he
+means what he says.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Serious or not, he spake well. Give me a squad of
+soldiers to work the crane.
+
+BRITANNUS. Leave the crane to me. Go and await the descent of the
+chain.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Good. You will presently see me there (_turning to them
+all and pointing with an eloquent gesture to the sky above the
+parapet_) rising like the sun with my treasure.
+
+_He goes back the way he came. Britannus goes into the lighthouse._
+
+RUFIO (_ill-humoredly_). Are you really going to wait here for this
+foolery, Caesar?
+
+CAESAR (_backing away from the crane as it gives signs of working_).
+Why not?
+
+RUFIO. The Egyptians will let you know why not if they have the sense
+to make a rush from the shore end of the mole before our barricade is
+finished. And here we are waiting like children to see a carpet full
+of pigeons' eggs.
+
+_The chain rattles, and is drawn up high enough to clear the parapet.
+It then swings round out of sight behind the lighthouse._
+
+CAESAR. Fear not, my son Rufio. When the first Egyptian takes his
+first step along the mole, the alarm will sound; and we two will reach
+the barricade from our end before the Egyptians reach it from their
+end--we two, Rufio: I, the old man, and you, his biggest boy. And the
+old man will be there first. So peace; and give me some more dates.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_from the causeway below_). Soho, haul away. So-ho-o-o-o!
+(_The chain is drawn up and comes round again from behind the
+lighthouse. Apollodorus is swinging in the air with his bale of carpet
+at the end of it. He breaks into song as he soars above the parapet._)
+
+    Aloft, aloft, behold the blue
+    That never shone in woman's eyes--
+
+Easy there: stop her. (_He ceases to rise._) Further round! (_The
+chain comes forward above the platform._)
+
+RUFIO (_calling up_). Lower away there. (_The chain and its load begin
+to descend._)
+
+APOLLODORUS (_calling up_). Gently--slowly--mind the eggs.
+
+RUFIO (_calling up_). Easy there--slowly--slowly.
+
+_Apollodorus and the bale are deposited safely on the flags in the
+middle of the platform. Rufio and Caesar help Apollodorus to cast off
+the chain from the bale._
+
+RUFIO. Haul up.
+
+_The chain rises clear of their heads with a rattle. Britannus comes
+from the lighthouse and helps them to uncord the carpet._
+
+APOLLODORUS (_when the cords are loose_). Stand off, my friends: let
+Caesar see. (_He throws the carpet open._)
+
+RUFIO. Nothing but a heap of shawls. Where are the pigeons' eggs?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Approach, Caesar; and search for them among the shawls.
+
+RUFIO (_drawing his sword_). Ha, treachery! Keep back, Caesar: I saw
+the shawl move: there is something alive there.
+
+BRITANNUS (_drawing his sword_). It is a serpent.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Dares Caesar thrust his hand into the sack where the
+serpent moves?
+
+RUFIO (_turning on him_). Treacherous dog----
+
+CAESAR. Peace. Put up your swords. Apollodorus: your serpent seems to
+breathe very regularly. (_He thrusts his hand under the shawls and
+draws out a bare arm._) This is a pretty little snake.
+
+RUFIO (_drawing out the other arm_). Let us have the rest of you.
+
+_They pull Cleopatra up by the wrists into a sitting position.
+Britannus, scandalized, sheathes his sword with a drive of protest._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_gasping_). Oh, I'm smothered. Oh, Caesar; a man stood on
+me in the boat; and a great sack of something fell upon me out of the
+sky; and then the boat sank, and then I was swung up into the air and
+bumped down.
+
+CAESAR (_petting her as she rises and takes refuge on his breast_).
+Well, never mind: here you are safe and sound at last.
+
+RUFIO. Ay; and now that she is here, what are we to do with her?
+
+BRITANNUS. She cannot stay here, Caesar, without the companionship of
+some matron.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_jealously, to Caesar, who is obviously perplexed_). Aren't
+you glad to see me?
+
+CAESAR. Yes, yes; _I_ am very glad. But Rufio is very angry; and
+Britannus is shocked.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_contemptuously_). You can have their heads cut off, can
+you not?
+
+CAESAR. They would not be so useful with their heads cut off as they
+are now, my sea bird.
+
+RUFIO (_to Cleopatra_). We shall have to go away presently and cut
+some of your Egyptians' heads off. How will you like being left here
+with the chance of being captured by that little brother of yours if
+we are beaten?
+
+CLEOPATRA. But you mustn't leave me alone. Caesar you will not leave
+me alone, will you?
+
+RUFIO. What! Not when the trumpet sounds and all our lives depend on
+Caesar's being at the barricade before the Egyptians reach it? Eh?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Let them lose their lives: they are only soldiers.
+
+CAESAR (_gravely_). Cleopatra: when that trumpet sounds, we must take
+every man his life in his hand, and throw it in the face of Death. And
+of my soldiers who have trusted me there is not one whose hand I shall
+not hold more sacred than your head. (_Cleopatra is overwhelmed. Her
+eyes fill with tears._) Apollodorus: you must take her back to the
+palace.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Am I a dolphin, Caesar, to cross the seas with young
+ladies on my back? My boat is sunk: all yours are either at the
+barricade or have returned to the city. I will hail one if I can: that
+is all I can do. (_He goes back to the causeway._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_struggling with her tears_). It does not matter. I will
+not go back. Nobody cares for me.
+
+CAESAR. Cleopatra----
+
+CLEOPATRA. You want me to be killed.
+
+CAESAR (_still more gravely_). My poor child: your life matters little
+here to anyone but yourself. (_She gives way altogether at this,
+casting herself down on the faggots weeping. Suddenly a great tumult
+is heard in the distance, bucinas and trumpets sounding through a
+storm of shouting. Britannus rushes to the parapet and looks along the
+mole. Caesar and Rufio turn to one another with quick intelligence._)
+
+CAESAR. Come, Rufio.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_scrambling to her knees and clinging to him_). No, no. Do
+not leave me, Caesar. (_He snatches his skirt from her clutch._) Oh!
+
+BRITANNUS (_from the parapet_). Caesar: we are cut off. The Egyptians
+have landed from the west harbor between us and the barricade!!!
+
+RUFIO (_running to see_). Curses! It is true. We are caught like rats
+in a trap.
+
+CAESAR (_ruthfully_). Rufio, Rufio: my men at the barricade are
+between the sea party and the shore party. I have murdered them.
+
+RUFIO (_coming back from the parapet to Caesar's right hand_). Ay:
+that comes of fooling with this girl here.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_coming up quickly from the causeway_). Look over the
+parapet, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. We have looked, my friend. We must defend ourselves here.
+
+APOLLODORUS. I have thrown the ladder into the sea. They cannot get in
+without it.
+
+RUFIO. Ay; and we cannot get out. Have you thought of that?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Not get out! Why not? You have ships in the east harbor.
+
+BRITANNUS (_hopefully, at the parapet_). The Rhodian galleys are
+standing in towards us already. (_Caesar quickly joins Britannus at
+the parapet._)
+
+RUFIO (_to Apollodorus, impatiently_). And by what road are we to walk
+to the galleys, pray?
+
+APOLLODORUS (_with gay, defiant rhetoric_). By the road that leads
+everywhere--the diamond path of the sun and moon. Have you never seen
+the child's shadow play of The Broken Bridge? "Ducks and geese with
+ease get over"--eh? (_He throws away his cloak and cap, and binds his
+sword on his back._)
+
+RUFIO. What are you talking about?
+
+APOLLODORUS. I will shew you. (_Calling to Britannus_) How far off is
+the nearest galley?
+
+BRITANNUS. Fifty fathom.
+
+CAESAR. No, no: they are further off than they seem in this clear air
+to your British eyes. Nearly quarter of a mile, Apollodorus.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Good. Defend yourselves here until I send you a boat from
+that galley.
+
+RUFIO. Have you wings, perhaps?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Water wings, soldier. Behold!
+
+_He runs up the steps between Caesar and Britannus to the coping of
+the parapet; springs into the air; and plunges head foremost into the
+sea._
+
+CAESAR (_like a schoolboy--wildly excited_). Bravo, bravo! (_Throwing
+off his cloak_) By Jupiter, I will do that too.
+
+RUFIO (_seizing him_). You are mad. You shall not.
+
+CAESAR. Why not? Can I not swim as well as he?
+
+RUFIO (_frantic_). Can an old fool dive and swim like a young one? He
+is twenty-five and you are fifty.
+
+CAESAR (_breaking loose from Rufio_). Old!!!
+
+BRITANNUS (_shocked_). Rufio: you forget yourself.
+
+CAESAR. I will race you to the galley for a week's pay, father Rufio.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But me! me!! me!!! What is to become of _me_?
+
+CAESAR. I will carry you on my back to the galley like a dolphin.
+Rufio: when you see me rise to the surface, throw her in: I will
+answer for her. And then in with you after her, both of you.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No, no, NO. I shall be drowned.
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: I am a man and a Briton, not a fish. I must have a
+boat. I cannot swim.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Neither can I.
+
+CAESAR (_to Britannus_). Stay here, then, alone, until I recapture the
+lighthouse: I will not forget you. Now, Rufio.
+
+RUFIO. You have made up your mind to this folly?
+
+CAESAR. The Egyptians have made it up for me. What else is there to
+do? And mind where you jump: I do not want to get your fourteen stone
+in the small of my back as I come up. (_He runs up the steps and
+stands on the coping._)
+
+BRITANNUS (_anxiously_). One last word, Caesar. Do not let yourself be
+seen in the fashionable part of Alexandria until you have changed your
+clothes.
+
+CAESAR (_calling over the sea_). Ho, Apollodorus: (_he points skyward
+and quotes the barcarolle_)
+
+    The white upon the blue above--
+
+APOLLODORUS (_swimming in the distance_)
+
+    Is purple on the green below--
+
+CAESAR (_exultantly_). Aha! (_He plunges into the sea._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_running excitedly to the steps_). Oh, let me see. He will
+be drowned. (_Rufio seizes her._) Ah--ah--ah--ah! (_He pitches her
+screaming into the sea. Rufio and Britannus roar with laughter._)
+
+RUFIO (_looking down after her_). He has got her. (_To Britannus_)
+Hold the fort, Briton. Caesar will not forget you. (_He springs off._)
+
+BRITANNUS (_running to the steps to watch them as they swim_). All
+safe, Rufio?
+
+RUFIO (_swimming_). All safe.
+
+CAESAR (_swimming further of_). Take refuge up there by the beacon;
+and pile the fuel on the trap door, Britannus.
+
+BRITANNUS (_calling in reply_). I will first do so, and then commend
+myself to my country's gods. (_A sound of cheering from the sea.
+Britannus gives full vent to his excitement_) The boat has reached
+him: Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+_Cleopatra's sousing in the east harbor of Alexandria was in October
+48 B. C. In March 47 she is passing the afternoon in her boudoir in
+the palace, among a bevy of her ladies, listening to a slave girl who
+is playing the harp in the middle of the room. The harpist's master,
+an old musician, with a lined face, prominent brows, white beard,
+moustache and eyebrows twisted and horned at the ends, and a
+consciously keen and pretentious expression, is squatting on the floor
+close to her on her right, watching her performance. Ftatateeta is in
+attendance near the door, in front of a group of female slaves. Except
+the harp player all are seated: Cleopatra in a chair opposite the door
+on the other side of the room; the rest on the ground. Cleopatra's
+ladies are all young, the most conspicuous being Charmian and Iras,
+her favorites. Charmian is a hatchet faced, terra cotta colored little
+goblin, swift in her movements, and neatly finished at the hands and
+feet. Iras is a plump, goodnatured creature, rather fatuous, with a
+profusion of red hair, and a tendency to giggle on the slightest
+provocation._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Can I----
+
+FTATATEETA (_insolently, to the player_). Peace, thou! The Queen
+speaks. (_The player stops._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_to the old musician_). I want to learn to play the harp
+with my own hands. Caesar loves music. Can you teach me?
+
+MUSICIAN. Assuredly I and no one else can teach the Queen. Have I not
+discovered the lost method of the ancient Egyptians, who could make a
+pyramid tremble by touching a bass string? All the other teachers are
+quacks: I have exposed them repeatedly.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Good: you shall teach me. How long will it take?
+
+MUSICIAN. Not very long: only four years. Your Majesty must first
+become proficient in the philosophy of Pythagoras.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Has she (_indicating the slave_) become proficient in the
+philosophy of Pythagoras?
+
+MUSICIAN. Oh, she is but a slave. She learns as a dog learns.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Well, then, I will learn as a dog learns; for she plays
+better than you. You shall give me a lesson every day for a fortnight.
+(_The musician hastily scrambles to his feet and bows profoundly._)
+After that, whenever I strike a false note you shall be flogged; and
+if I strike so many that there is not time to flog you, you shall be
+thrown into the Nile to feed the crocodiles. Give the girl a piece of
+gold; and send them away.
+
+MUSICIAN (_much taken aback_). But true art will not be thus forced.
+
+FTATATEETA (_pushing him out_). What is this? Answering the Queen,
+forsooth. Out with you.
+
+_He is pushed out by Ftatateeta, the girl following with her harp,
+amid the laughter of the ladies and slaves._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Now, can any of you amuse me? Have you any stories or any
+news?
+
+IRAS. Ftatateeta----
+
+CLEOPATRA. Oh, Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta, always Ftatateeta. Some new
+tale to set me against her.
+
+IRAS. No: this time Ftatateeta has been virtuous. (_All the ladies
+laugh--not the slaves._) Pothinus has been trying to bribe her to let
+him speak with you.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_wrathfully_). Ha! you all sell audiences with me, as if I
+saw whom you please, and not whom I please. I should like to know how
+much of her gold piece that harp girl will have to give up before she
+leaves the palace.
+
+IRAS. We can easily find out that for you.
+
+_The ladies laugh._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_frowning_). You laugh; but take care, take care. I will
+find out some day how to make myself served as Caesar is served.
+
+CHARMIAN. Old hooknose! (_They laugh again._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_revolted_). Silence. Charmian: do not you be a silly
+little Egyptian fool. Do you know why I allow you all to chatter
+impertinently just as you please, instead of treating you as
+Ftatateeta would treat you if she were Queen?
+
+CHARMIAN. Because you try to imitate Caesar in everything; and he lets
+everybody say what they please to him.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No; but because I asked him one day why he did so; and he
+said "Let your women talk; and you will learn something from them."
+What have I to learn from them? I said. "What they _are_," said he;
+and oh! you should have seen his eye as he said it. You would have
+curled up, you shallow things. (_They laugh. She turns fiercely on
+Iras_) At whom are you laughing--at me or at Caesar?
+
+IRAS. At Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA. If you were not a fool, you would laugh at me; and if you
+were not a coward you would not be afraid to tell me so. (_Ftatateeta
+returns._) Ftatateeta: they tell me that Pothinus has offered you a
+bribe to admit him to my presence.
+
+FTATATEETA (_protesting_). Now by my father's gods----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_cutting her short despotically_). Have I not told you not
+to deny things? You would spend the day calling your father's gods to
+witness to your virtues if I let you. Go take the bribe; and bring in
+Pothinus. (_Ftatateeta is about to reply._) Don't answer me. Go.
+
+_Ftatateeta goes out; and Cleopatra rises and begins to prowl to and
+fro between her chair and the door, meditating. All rise and stand._
+
+IRAS (_as she reluctantly rises_). Heigho! I wish Caesar were back in
+Rome.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_threateningly_). It will be a bad day for you all when he
+goes. Oh, if I were not ashamed to let him see that I am as cruel at
+heart as my father, I would make you repent that speech! Why do you
+wish him away?
+
+CHARMIAN. He makes you so terribly prosy and serious and learned and
+philosophical. It is worse than being religious, at _our_ ages. (_The
+ladies laugh._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. Cease that endless cackling, will you. Hold your tongues.
+
+CHARMIAN (_with mock resignation_). Well, well: we must try to live up
+to Caesar.
+
+_They laugh again. Cleopatra rages silently as she continues to prowl
+to and fro. Ftatateeta comes back with Pothinus, who halts on the
+threshold._
+
+FTATATEETA (_at the door_). Pothinus craves the ear of the----
+
+CLEOPATRA. There, there: that will do: let him come in. (_She resumes
+her seat. All sit down except Pothinus, who advances to the middle of
+the room. Ftatateeta takes her former place._) Well, Pothinus: what is
+the latest news from your rebel friends?
+
+POTHINUS (_haughtily_). I am no friend of rebellion. And a prisoner
+does not receive news.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You are no more a prisoner than I am--than Caesar is. These
+six months we have been besieged in this palace by my subjects. You
+are allowed to walk on the beach among the soldiers. Can I go further
+myself, or can Caesar?
+
+POTHINUS. You are but a child, Cleopatra, and do not understand these
+matters.
+
+_The ladies laugh. Cleopatra looks inscrutably at him._
+
+CHARMIAN. I see you do not know the latest news, Pothinus.
+
+POTHINUS. What is that?
+
+CHARMIAN. That Cleopatra is no longer a child. Shall I tell you how to
+grow much older, and much, _much_ wiser in one day?
+
+POTHINUS. I should prefer to grow wiser without growing older.
+
+CHARMIAN. Well, go up to the top of the lighthouse; and get somebody
+to take you by the hair and throw you into the sea. (_The ladies
+laugh._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. She is right, Pothinus: you will come to the shore with
+much conceit washed out of you. (_The ladies laugh. Cleopatra rises
+impatiently._) Begone, all of you. I will speak with Pothinus alone.
+Drive them out, Ftatateeta. (_They run out laughing. Ftatateeta shuts
+the door on them._) What are _you_ waiting for?
+
+FTATATEETA. It is not meet that the Queen remain alone with----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_interrupting her_). Ftatateeta: must I sacrifice you to
+your father's gods to teach you that _I_ am Queen of Egypt, and not
+you?
+
+FTATATEETA (_indignantly_). You are like the rest of them. You want to
+be what these Romans call a New Woman. (_She goes out, banging the
+door._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_sitting down again_). Now, Pothinus: why did you bribe
+Ftatateeta to bring you hither?
+
+POTHINUS (_studying her gravely_). Cleopatra: what they tell me is
+true. You are changed.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Do you speak with Caesar every day for six months: and
+_you_ will be changed.
+
+POTHINUS. It is the common talk that you are infatuated with this old
+man.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Infatuated? What does that mean? Made foolish, is it not?
+Oh no: I wish I were.
+
+POTHINUS. You wish you were made foolish! How so?
+
+CLEOPATRA. When I was foolish, I did what I liked, except when
+Ftatateeta beat me; and even then I cheated her and did it by stealth.
+Now that Caesar has made me wise, it is no use my liking or disliking;
+I do what must be done, and have no time to attend to myself. That is
+not happiness; but it is greatness. If Caesar were gone, I think I
+could govern the Egyptians; for what Caesar is to me, I am to the
+fools around me.
+
+POTHINUS (_looking hard at her_). Cleopatra: this may be the vanity of
+youth.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No, no: it is not that I am so clever, but that the others
+are so stupid.
+
+POTHINUS (_musingly_). Truly, that is the great secret.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Well, now tell me what you came to say?
+
+POTHINUS (_embarrassed_). I! Nothing.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Nothing!
+
+POTHINUS. At least--to beg for my liberty: that is all.
+
+CLEOPATRA. For that you would have knelt to Caesar. No, Pothinus: you
+came with some plan that depended on Cleopatra being a little nursery
+kitten. Now that Cleopatra is a Queen, the plan is upset.
+
+POTHINUS (_bowing his head submissively_). It is so.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_exultant_). Aha!
+
+POTHINUS (_raising his eyes keenly to hers_). Is Cleopatra then indeed
+a Queen, and no longer Caesar's prisoner and slave?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Pothinus: we are all Caesar's slaves--all we in this land
+of Egypt--whether we will or no. And she who is wise enough to know
+this will reign when Caesar departs.
+
+POTHINUS. You harp on Caesar's departure.
+
+CLEOPATRA. What if I do?
+
+POTHINUS. Does he not love you?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Love me! Pothinus: Caesar loves no one. Who are those we
+love? Only those whom we do not hate: all people are strangers and
+enemies to us except those we love. But it is not so with Caesar. He
+has no hatred in him: he makes friends with everyone as he does with
+dogs and children. His kindness to me is a wonder: neither mother,
+father, nor nurse have ever taken so much care for me, or thrown open
+their thoughts to me so freely.
+
+POTHINUS. Well: is not this love?
+
+CLEOPATRA. What! When he will do as much for the first girl he meets
+on his way back to Rome? Ask his slave, Britannus: he has been just as
+good to him. Nay, ask his very horse! His kindness is not for anything
+in _me_: it is in his own nature.
+
+POTHINUS. But how can you be sure that he does not love you as men
+love women?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Because I cannot make him jealous. I have tried.
+
+POTHINUS. Hm! Perhaps I should have asked, then, do _you_ love _him_?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Can one love a god? Besides, I love another Roman: one whom
+I saw long before Caesar--no god, but a man--one who can love and
+hate--one whom I can hurt and who would hurt me.
+
+POTHINUS. Does Caesar know this?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes
+
+POTHINUS. And he is not angry.
+
+CLEOPATRA. He promises to send him to Egypt to please me!
+
+POTHINUS. I do not understand this man.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with superb contempt_). _You_ understand Caesar! How could
+you? (_Proudly_) I do--by instinct.
+
+POTHINUS (_deferentially, after a moment's thought_). Your Majesty
+caused me to be admitted to-day. What message has the Queen for me?
+
+CLEOPATRA. This. You think that by making my brother king, you will
+rule in Egypt, because you are his guardian and he is a little silly.
+
+POTHINUS. The Queen is pleased to say so.
+
+CLEOPATRA. The Queen is pleased to say this also. That Caesar will eat
+up you, and Achillas, and my brother, as a cat eats up mice; and that
+he will put on this land of Egypt as a shepherd puts on his garment.
+And when he has done that, he will return to Rome, and leave Cleopatra
+here as his viceroy.
+
+POTHINUS (_breaking out wrathfully_). That he will never do. We have a
+thousand men to his ten; and we will drive him and his beggarly
+legions into the sea.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with scorn, getting up to go_). You rant like any common
+fellow. Go, then, and marshal your thousands; and make haste; for
+Mithridates of Pergamos is at hand with reinforcements for Caesar.
+Caesar has held you at bay with two legions: we shall see what he will
+do with twenty.
+
+POTHINUS. Cleopatra----
+
+CLEOPATRA. Enough, enough: Caesar has spoiled me for talking to weak
+things like you. (_She goes out. Pothinus, with a gesture of rage, is
+following, when Ftatateeta enters and stops him._)
+
+POTHINUS. Let me go forth from this hateful place.
+
+FTATATEETA. What angers you?
+
+POTHINUS. The curse of all the gods of Egypt be upon her! She has sold
+her country to the Roman, that she may buy it back from him with her
+kisses.
+
+FTATATEETA. Fool: did she not tell you that she would have Caesar
+gone?
+
+POTHINUS. You listened?
+
+FTATATEETA. I took care that some honest woman should be at hand
+whilst you were with her.
+
+POTHINUS. Now by the gods----
+
+FTATATEETA. Enough of your gods! Caesar's gods are all powerful here.
+It is no use _you_ coming to Cleopatra: you are only an Egyptian. She
+will not listen to any of her own race: she treats us all as children.
+
+POTHINUS. May she perish for it!
+
+FTATATEETA (_balefully_). May your tongue wither for that wish! Go!
+send for Lucius Septimius, the slayer of Pompey. He is a Roman: may be
+she will listen to him. Begone!
+
+POTHINUS (_darkly_). I know to whom I must go now.
+
+FTATATEETA (_suspiciously_). To whom, then?
+
+POTHINUS. To a greater Roman than Lucius. And mark this, mistress. You
+thought, before Caesar came, that Egypt should presently be ruled by
+you and your crew in the name of Cleopatra. I set myself against
+it----
+
+FTATATEETA (_interrupting him--wrangling_). Ay; that it might be ruled
+by you and _your_ crew in the name of Ptolemy.
+
+POTHINUS. Better me, or even you, than a woman with a Roman heart; and
+that is what Cleopatra is now become. Whilst I live, she shall never
+rule. So guide yourself accordingly. (_He goes out._)
+
+_It is by this time drawing on to dinner time. The table is laid on
+the roof of the palace; and thither Rufio is now climbing, ushered by
+a majestic palace official, wand of office in hand, and followed by a
+slave carrying an inlaid stool. After many stairs they emerge at last
+into a massive colonnade on the roof. Light curtains are drawn between
+the columns on the north and east to soften the westering sun. The
+official leads Rufio to one of these shaded sections. A cord for
+pulling the curtains apart hangs down between the pillars._
+
+THE OFFICIAL (_bowing_). The Roman commander will await Caesar here.
+
+_The slave sets down the stool near the southernmost column, and slips
+out through the curtains._
+
+RUFIO (_sitting down, a little blown_). Pouf! That was a climb. How
+high have we come?
+
+THE OFFICIAL. We are on the palace roof, O Beloved of Victory!
+
+RUFIO. Good! the Beloved of Victory has no more stairs to get up.
+
+_A second official enters from the opposite end, walking backwards._
+
+THE SECOND OFFICIAL. Caesar approaches.
+
+_Caesar, fresh from the bath, clad in a new tunic of purple silk,
+comes in, beaming and festive, followed by two slaves carrying a light
+couch, which is hardly more than an elaborately designed bench. They
+place it near the northmost of the two curtained columns. When this is
+done they slip out through the curtains; and the two officials,
+formally bowing, follow them. Rufio rises to receive Caesar._
+
+CAESAR (_coming over to him_). Why, Rufio! (_Surveying his dress with
+an air of admiring astonishment_) A new baldrick! A new golden pommel
+to your sword! And you have had your hair cut! But not your beard--?
+impossible! (_He sniffs at Rufio's beard._) Yes, perfumed, by Jupiter
+Olympus!
+
+RUFIO (_growling_). Well: is it to please myself?
+
+CAESAR (_affectionately_). No, my son Rufio, but to please me--to
+celebrate my birthday.
+
+RUFIO (_contemptuously_). Your birthday! You always have a birthday
+when there is a pretty girl to be flattered or an ambassador to be
+conciliated. We had seven of them in ten months last year.
+
+CAESAR (_contritely_). It is true, Rufio! I shall never break myself
+of these petty deceits.
+
+RUFIO. Who is to dine with us--besides Cleopatra?
+
+CAESAR. Apollodorus the Sicilian.
+
+RUFIO. That popinjay!
+
+CAESAR. Come! the popinjay is an amusing dog--tells a story; sings a
+song; and saves us the trouble of flattering the Queen. What does she
+care for old politicians and campfed bears like us? No: Apollodorus is
+good company, Rufio, good company.
+
+RUFIO. Well, he can swim a bit and fence a bit: he might be worse, if
+he only knew how to hold his tongue.
+
+CAESAR. The gods forbid he should ever learn! Oh, this military life!
+this tedious, brutal life of action! That is the worst of us Romans:
+we are mere doers and drudgers: a swarm of bees turned into men. Give
+me a good talker--one with wit and imagination enough to live without
+continually doing something!
+
+RUFIO. Ay! a nice time he would have of it with you when dinner was
+over! Have you noticed that I am before my time?
+
+CAESAR. Aha! I thought that meant something. What is it?
+
+RUFIO. Can we be overheard here?
+
+CAESAR. Our privacy invites eavesdropping. I can remedy that. (_He
+claps his hands twice. The curtains are drawn, revealing the roof
+garden with a banqueting table set across in the middle for four
+persons, one at each end, and two side by side. The side next Caesar
+and Rufio is blocked with golden wine vessels and basins. A gorgeous
+major-domo is superintending the laying of the table by a staff of
+slaves. The colonnade goes round the garden at both sides to the
+further end, where a gap in it, like a great gateway, leaves the view
+open to the sky beyond the western edge of the roof, except in the
+middle, where a life size image of Ra, seated on a huge plinth, towers
+up, with hawk head and crown of asp and disk. His altar, which stands
+at his feet, is a single white stone._) Now everybody can see us,
+nobody will think of listening to us. (_He sits down on the bench left
+by the two slaves._)
+
+RUFIO (_sitting down on his stool_). Pothinus wants to speak to you. I
+advise you to see him: there is some plotting going on here among the
+women.
+
+CAESAR. Who is Pothinus?
+
+RUFIO. The fellow with hair like squirrel's fur--the little King's
+bear leader, whom you kept prisoner.
+
+CAESAR (_annoyed_). And has he not escaped?
+
+RUFIO. No.
+
+CAESAR (_rising imperiously_). Why not? You have been guarding this
+man instead of watching the enemy. Have I not told you always to let
+prisoners escape unless there are special orders to the contrary? Are
+there not enough mouths to be fed without him?
+
+RUFIO. Yes; and if you would have a little sense and let me cut his
+throat, you would save his rations. Anyhow, he _won't_ escape. Three
+sentries have told him they would put a pilum through him if they saw
+him again. What more can they do? He prefers to stay and spy on us. So
+would I if I had to do with generals subject to fits of clemency.
+
+CAESAR (_resuming his seat, argued down_). Hm! And so he wants to see
+me.
+
+RUFIO. Ay. I have brought him with me. He is waiting there (_jerking
+his thumb over his shoulder_) under guard.
+
+CAESAR. And you want me to see him?
+
+RUFIO (_obstinately_). I don't want anything. I daresay you will do
+what you like. Don't put it on to me.
+
+CAESAR (_with an air of doing it expressly to indulge Rufio_). Well,
+well: let us have him.
+
+RUFIO (_calling_). Ho there, guard! Release your man and send him up.
+(_Beckoning_) Come along!
+
+_Pothinus enters and stops mistrustfully between the two, looking from
+one to the other._
+
+CAESAR (_graciously_). Ah, Pothinus! You are welcome. And what is the
+news this afternoon?
+
+POTHINUS. Caesar: I come to warn you of a danger, and to make you an
+offer.
+
+CAESAR. Never mind the danger. Make the offer.
+
+RUFIO. Never mind the offer. What's the danger?
+
+POTHINUS. Caesar: you think that Cleopatra is devoted to you.
+
+CAESAR (_gravely_). My friend: I already know what I think. Come to
+your offer.
+
+POTHINUS. I will deal plainly. I know not by what strange gods you
+have been enabled to defend a palace and a few yards of beach against
+a city and an army. Since we cut you off from Lake Mareotis, and you
+dug wells in the salt sea sand and brought up buckets of fresh water
+from them, we have known that your gods are irresistible, and that you
+are a worker of miracles. I no longer threaten you----
+
+RUFIO (_sarcastically_). Very handsome of you, indeed.
+
+POTHINUS. So be it: you are the master. Our gods sent the north west
+winds to keep you in our hands; but you have been too strong for them.
+
+CAESAR (_gently urging him to come to the point_). Yes, yes, my
+friend. But what then?
+
+RUFIO. Spit it out, man. What have you to say?
+
+POTHINUS. I have to say that you have a traitress in your camp.
+Cleopatra----
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO (_at the table, announcing_). The Queen! (_Caesar and
+Rufio rise._)
+
+RUFIO (_aside to Pothinus_). You should have spat it out sooner, you
+fool. Now it is too late.
+
+_Cleopatra, in gorgeous raiment, enters in state through the gap in
+the colonnade, and comes down past the image of Ra and past the table
+to Caesar. Her retinue, headed by Ftatateeta, joins the staff at the
+table. Caesar gives Cleopatra his seat, which she takes._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_quickly, seeing Pothinus_). What is _he_ doing here?
+
+CAESAR (_seating himself beside her, in the most amiable of tempers_).
+Just going to tell me something about you. You shall hear it. Proceed,
+Pothinus.
+
+POTHINUS (_disconcerted_). Caesar-- (_He stammers._)
+
+CAESAR. Well, out with it.
+
+POTHINUS. What I have to say is for your ear, not for the Queen's.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with subdued ferocity_). There are means of making you
+speak. Take care.
+
+POTHINUS (_defiantly_). Caesar does not employ those means.
+
+CAESAR. My friend: when a man has anything to tell in this world, the
+difficulty is not to make him tell it, but to prevent him from telling
+it too often. Let me celebrate my birthday by setting you free.
+Farewell: we'll not meet again.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_angrily_). Caesar: this mercy is foolish.
+
+POTHINUS (_to Caesar_). Will you not give me a private audience? Your
+life may depend on it. (_Caesar rises loftily._)
+
+RUFIO (_aside to Pothinus_). Ass! Now we shall have some heroics.
+
+CAESAR (_oratorically_). Pothinus----
+
+RUFIO (_interrupting him_). Caesar: the dinner will spoil if you begin
+preaching your favourite sermon about life and death.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_priggishly_). Peace, Rufio. I desire to hear Caesar.
+
+RUFIO (_bluntly_). Your Majesty has heard it before. You repeated it
+to Apollodorus last week; and he thought it was all your own.
+(_Caesar's dignity collapses. Much tickled, he sits down again and
+looks roguishly at Cleopatra, who is furious. Rufio calls as before_)
+Ho there, guard! Pass the prisoner out. He is released. (_To
+Pothinus_) Now off with you. You have lost your chance.
+
+POTHINUS (_his temper overcoming his prudence_). I _will_ speak.
+
+CAESAR (_to Cleopatra_). You see. Torture would not have wrung a word
+from him.
+
+POTHINUS. Caesar: you have taught Cleopatra the arts by which the
+Romans govern the world.
+
+CAESAR. Alas! they cannot even govern themselves. What then?
+
+POTHINUS. What then? Are you so besotted with her beauty that you do
+not see that she is impatient to reign in Egypt alone, and that her
+heart is set on your departure?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_rising_). Liar!
+
+CAESAR (_shocked_). What! Protestations! Contradictions!
+
+CLEOPATRA (_ashamed, but trembling with suppressed rage_). No. I do
+not deign to contradict. Let him talk. (_She sits down again._)
+
+POTHINUS. From her own lips I have heard it. You are to be her
+catspaw: you are to tear the crown from her brother's head and set it
+on her own, delivering us all into her hand--delivering yourself also.
+And then Caesar can return to Rome, or depart through the gate of
+death, which is nearer and surer.
+
+CAESAR (_calmly_). Well, my friend; and is not this very natural?
+
+POTHINUS (_astonished_). Natural! Then you do not resent treachery?
+
+CAESAR. Resent! O thou foolish Egyptian, what have I to do with
+resentment? Do I resent the wind when it chills me, or the night when
+it makes me stumble in the darkness? Shall I resent youth when it
+turns from age, and ambition when it turns from servitude? To tell me
+such a story as this is but to tell me that the sun will rise
+to-morrow.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_unable to contain herself_). But it is false--false. I
+swear it.
+
+CAESAR. It is true, though you swore it a thousand times, and believed
+all you swore. (_She is convulsed with emotion. To screen her, he
+rises and takes Pothinus to Rufio, saying_) Come, Rufio: let us see
+Pothinus past the guard. I have a word to say to him. (_Aside to
+them_) We must give the Queen a moment to recover herself. (_Aloud_)
+Come. (_He takes Pothinus and Rufio out with him, conversing with them
+meanwhile._) Tell your friends, Pothinus, that they must not think I
+am opposed to a reasonable settlement of the country's affairs--
+(_They pass out of hearing._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_in a stifled whisper_). Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta.
+
+FTATATEETA (_hurrying to her from the table and petting her_). Peace,
+child: be comforted----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_interrupting her_). Can they hear us?
+
+FTATATEETA. No, dear heart, no.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Listen to me. If he leaves the Palace alive, never see my
+face again.
+
+FTATATEETA. He? Poth----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_striking her on the mouth_). Strike his life out as I
+strike his name from your lips. Dash him down from the wall. Break him
+on the stones. Kill, kill, _kill_ him.
+
+FTATATEETA (_shewing all her teeth_). The dog shall perish.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Fail in this, and you go out from before me forever.
+
+FTATATEETA (_resolutely_). So be it. You shall not see my face until
+his eyes are darkened.
+
+_Caesar comes back, with Apollodorus, exquisitely dressed, and Rufio._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_to Ftatateeta_). Come soon--soon. (_Ftatateeta turns her
+meaning eyes for a moment on her mistress; then goes grimly away past
+Ra and out. Cleopatra runs like a gazelle to Caesar._) So you have
+come back to me, Caesar. (_Caressingly_) I thought you were angry.
+Welcome, Apollodorus. (_She gives him her hand to kiss, with her other
+arm about Caesar._)
+
+APOLLODORUS. Cleopatra grows more womanly beautiful from week to week.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Truth, Apollodorus?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Far, far short of the truth! Friend Rufio threw a pearl
+into the sea: Caesar fished up a diamond.
+
+CAESAR. Caesar fished up a touch of rheumatism, my friend. Come: to
+dinner! to dinner! (_They move towards the table._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_skipping like a young fawn_). Yes, to dinner. I have
+ordered _such_ a dinner for you, Caesar!
+
+CAESAR. Ay? What are we to have?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Peacocks' brains.
+
+CAESAR (_as if his mouth watered_). Peacocks' brains, Apollodorus!
+
+APOLLODORUS. Not for me. I prefer nightingales' tongues. (_He goes to
+one of the two covers set side by side._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. Roast boar, Rufio!
+
+RUFIO (_gluttonously_). Good! (_He goes to the seat next Apollodorus,
+on his left._)
+
+CAESAR (_looking at his seat, which is at the end of the table, to
+Ra's left hand_). What has become of my leathern cushion?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_at the opposite end_). I have got new ones for you.
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO. These cushions, Caesar, are of Maltese gauze, stuffed
+with rose leaves.
+
+CAESAR. Rose leaves! Am I a caterpillar? (_He throws the cushions away
+and seats himself on the leather mattress underneath._)
+
+CLEOPATRA. What a shame! My new cushions!
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO (_at Caesar's elbow_). What shall we serve to whet
+Caesar's appetite?
+
+CAESAR. What have you got?
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO. Sea hedgehogs, black and white sea acorns, sea
+nettles, beccaficoes, purple shellfish----
+
+CAESAR. Any oysters?
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO. Assuredly.
+
+CAESAR. _British_ oysters?
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO (_assenting_). British oysters, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Oysters, then. (_The Major-Domo signs to a slave at each
+order; and the slave goes out to execute it._) I have been in
+Britain--that western land of romance--the last piece of earth on the
+edge of the ocean that surrounds the world. I went there in search of
+its famous pearls. The British pearl was a fable; but in searching for
+it I found the British oyster.
+
+APOLLODORUS. All posterity will bless you for it. (_To the
+Major-Domo_) Sea hedgehogs for me.
+
+RUFIO. Is there nothing solid to begin with?
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO. Fieldfares with asparagus----
+
+CLEOPATRA (_interrupting_). Fattened fowls! have some fattened fowls,
+Rufio.
+
+RUFIO. Ay, that will do.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_greedily_). Fieldfares for me.
+
+THE MAJOR-DOMO. Caesar will deign to choose his wine? Sicilian,
+Lesbian, Chian----
+
+RUFIO (_contemptuously_). All Greek.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Who would drink Roman wine when he could get Greek? Try
+the Lesbian, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Bring me my barley water.
+
+RUFIO (_with intense disgust_). Ugh! Bring _me_ my Falernian. (_The
+Falernian is presently brought to him._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pouting_). It is waste of time giving you dinners, Caesar.
+My scullions would not condescend to your diet.
+
+CAESAR (_relenting_). Well, well: let us try the Lesbian. (_The
+Major-Domo fills Caesar's goblet; then Cleopatra's and
+Apollodorus's._) But when I return to Rome, I will make laws against
+these extravagances. I will even get the laws carried out.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_coaxingly_). Never mind. To-day you are to be like other
+people: idle, luxurious, and kind. (_She stretches her hand to him
+along the table._)
+
+CAESAR. Well, for once I will sacrifice my comfort--(_kissing her
+hand_) there! (_He takes a draught of wine._) Now are you satisfied?
+
+CLEOPATRA. And you no longer believe that I long for your departure
+for Rome?
+
+CAESAR. I no longer believe anything. My brains are asleep. Besides,
+who knows whether I shall return to Rome?
+
+RUFIO (_alarmed_). How? Eh? What?
+
+CAESAR. What has Rome to shew me that I have not seen already? One
+year of Rome is like another, except that I grow older, whilst the
+crowd in the Appian Way is always the same age.
+
+APOLLODORUS. It is no better here in Egypt. The old men, when they are
+tired of life, say "We have seen everything except the source of the
+Nile."
+
+CAESAR (_his imagination catching fire_). And why not see that?
+Cleopatra: will you come with me and track the flood to its cradle in
+the heart of the regions of mystery? Shall we leave Rome behind
+us--Rome, that has achieved greatness only to learn how greatness
+destroys nations of men who are not great! Shall I make you a new
+kingdom, and build you a holy city there in the great unknown?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_rapturously_). Yes, yes. You shall.
+
+RUFIO. Ay: now he will conquer Africa with two legions before we come
+to the roast boar.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Come: no scoffing, this is a noble scheme: in it Caesar
+is no longer merely the conquering soldier, but the creative
+poet-artist. Let us name the holy city, and consecrate it with Lesbian
+Wine.
+
+CAESAR. Cleopatra shall name it herself.
+
+CLEOPATRA. It shall be called Caesar's Gift to his Beloved.
+
+APOLLODORUS. No, no. Something vaster than that--something universal,
+like the starry firmament.
+
+CAESAR (_prosaically_). Why not simply The Cradle of the Nile?
+
+CLEOPATRA. No: the Nile is my ancestor; and he is a god. Oh! I have
+thought of something. The Nile shall name it himself. Let us call upon
+him. (_To the Major-Domo_) Send for him. (_The three men stare at one
+another; but the Major-Domo goes out as if he had received the most
+matter-of-fact order._) And (_to the retinue_) away with you all.
+
+_The retinue withdraws, making obeisance._
+
+_A priest enters, carrying a miniature sphinx with a tiny tripod
+before it. A morsel of incense is smoking in the tripod. The priest
+comes to the table and places the image in the middle of it. The light
+begins to change to the magenta purple of the Egyptian sunset, as if
+the god had brought a strange colored shadow with him. The three men
+are determined not to be impressed; but they feel curious in spite of
+themselves._
+
+CAESAR. What hocus-pocus is this?
+
+CLEOPATRA. You shall see. And it is _not_ hocus-pocus. To do it
+properly, we should kill something to please him; but perhaps he will
+answer Caesar without that if we spill some wine to him.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_turning his head to look up over his shoulder at Ra_).
+Why not appeal to our hawkheaded friend here?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_nervously_). Sh! He will hear you and be angry.
+
+RUFIO (_phlegmatically_). The source of the Nile is out of his
+district, I expect.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No: I will have my city named by nobody but my dear little
+sphinx, because it was in its arms that Caesar found me asleep. (_She
+languishes at Caesar; then turns curtly to the priest._) Go. I am a
+priestess, and have power to take your charge from you. (_The priest
+makes a reverence and goes out._) Now let us call on the Nile all
+together. Perhaps he will rap on the table.
+
+CAESAR. What! Table rapping! Are such superstitions still believed in
+this year 707 of the Republic?
+
+CLEOPATRA. It is no superstition: our priests learn lots of things
+from the tables. Is it not so, Apollodorus?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Yes: I profess myself a converted man. When Cleopatra is
+priestess, Apollodorus is devotee. Propose the conjuration.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You must say with me "Send us thy voice, Father Nile."
+
+ALL FOUR (_holding their glasses together before the idol_). Send us
+thy voice, Father Nile.
+
+_The death cry of a man in mortal terror and agony answers them.
+Appalled, the men set down their glasses, and listen. Silence. The
+purple deepens in the sky. Caesar, glancing at Cleopatra, catches her
+pouring out her wine before the god, with gleaming eyes, and mute
+assurances of gratitude and worship. Apollodorus springs up and runs
+to the edge of the roof to peer down and listen._
+
+CAESAR (_looking piercingly at Cleopatra_). What was that?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_petulantly_). Nothing. They are beating some slave.
+
+CAESAR. Nothing!
+
+RUFIO. A man with a knife in him, I'll swear.
+
+CAESAR (_rising_). A murder!
+
+APOLLODORUS (_at the back, waving his hand for silence_). S-sh!
+Silence. Did you hear that?
+
+CAESAR. Another cry?
+
+APOLLODORUS (_returning to the table_). No, a thud. Something fell on
+the beach, I think.
+
+RUFIO (_grimly, as he rises_). Something with bones in it, eh?
+
+CAESAR (_shuddering_). Hush, hush, Rufio. (_He leaves the table and
+returns to the colonnade: Rufio following at his left elbow, and
+Apollodorus at the other side._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_still in her place at the table_). Will you leave me,
+Caesar? Apollodorus: are you going?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Faith, dearest Queen, my appetite is gone.
+
+CAESAR. Go down to the courtyard, Apollodorus; and find out what has
+happened.
+
+_Apollodorus nods and goes out, making for the staircase by which
+Rufio ascended._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Your soldiers have killed somebody, perhaps. What does it
+matter?
+
+_The murmur of a crowd rises from the beach below. Caesar and Rufio
+look at one another._
+
+CAESAR. This must be seen to. (_He is about to follow Apollodorus when
+Rufio stops him with a hand on his arm as Ftatateeta comes back by the
+far end of the roof, with dragging steps, a drowsy satiety in her eyes
+and in the corners of the bloodhound lips. For a moment Caesar
+suspects that she is drunk with wine. Not so Rufio: he knows well the
+red vintage that has inebriated her._)
+
+RUFIO (_in a low tone_). There is some mischief between those two.
+
+FTATATEETA. The Queen looks again on the face of her servant.
+
+_Cleopatra looks at her for a moment with an exultant reflection of
+her murderous expression. Then she flings her arms round her; kisses
+her repeatedly and savagely; and tears off her jewels and heaps them
+on her. The two men turn from the spectacle to look at one another.
+Ftatateeta drags herself sleepily to the altar; kneels before Ra; and
+remains there in prayer. Caesar goes to Cleopatra, leaving Rufio in
+the colonnade._
+
+CAESAR (_with searching earnestness_). Cleopatra: what has happened?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_in mortal dread of him, but with her utmost cajolery_).
+Nothing, dearest Caesar. (_With sickly sweetness, her voice almost
+failing_) Nothing. I am innocent. (_She approaches him
+affectionately_) Dear Caesar: are you angry with me? Why do you look
+at me so? I have been here with you all the time. How can I know what
+has happened?
+
+CAESAR (_reflectively_). That is true.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_greatly relieved, trying to caress him_). Of course it is
+true. (_He does not respond to the caress._) _You_ know it is true,
+Rufio.
+
+_The murmur without suddenly swells to a roar and subsides._
+
+RUFIO. I shall know presently. (_He makes for the altar in the burly
+trot that serves him for a stride, and touches Ftatateeta on the
+shoulder._) Now, mistress: I shall want you. (_He orders her, with a
+gesture, to go before him._)
+
+FTATATEETA (_rising and glowering at him_). My place is with the
+Queen.
+
+CLEOPATRA. She has done no harm, Rufio.
+
+CAESAR (_to Rufio_). Let her stay.
+
+RUFIO (_sitting down on the altar_). Very well. Then my place is here
+too; and you can see what is the matter for yourself. The city is in a
+pretty uproar, it seems.
+
+CAESAR (_with grave displeasure_). Rufio: there is a time for
+obedience.
+
+RUFIO. And there is a time for obstinacy. (_He folds his arms
+doggedly._)
+
+CAESAR (_to Cleopatra_). Send her away.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_whining in her eagerness to propitiate him_). Yes, I will.
+I will do whatever you ask me, Caesar, always, because I love you.
+Ftatateeta: go away.
+
+FTATATEETA. The Queen's word is my will. I shall be at hand for the
+Queen's call. (_She goes out past Ra, as she came._)
+
+RUFIO (_following her_). Remember, Caesar, _your_ bodyguard also is
+within call. (_He follows her out._)
+
+_Cleopatra, presuming upon Caesar's submission to Rufio, leaves the
+table and sits down on the bench in the colonnade._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Why do you allow Rufio to treat you so? You should teach
+him his place.
+
+CAESAR. Teach him to be my enemy, and to hide his thoughts from me as
+you are now hiding yours.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_her fears returning_). Why do you say that, Caesar?
+Indeed, indeed, I am not hiding anything. You are wrong to treat me
+like this. (_She stifles a sob._) I am only a child; and you turn into
+stone because you think some one has been killed. I cannot bear it.
+(_She purposely breaks down and weeps. He looks at her with profound
+sadness and complete coldness. She looks up to see what effect she is
+producing. Seeing that he is unmoved, she sits up, pretending to
+struggle with her emotion and to put it bravely away._) But there: I
+know you hate tears: you shall not be troubled with them. I know you
+are not angry, but only sad; only I am so silly, I cannot help being
+hurt when you speak coldly. Of course you are quite right: it is
+dreadful to think of anyone being killed or even hurt; and I hope
+nothing really serious has-- (_Her voice dies away under his
+contemptuous penetration._)
+
+CAESAR. What has frightened you into this? What have you done? (_A
+trumpet sounds on the beach below._) Aha! That sounds like the answer.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_sinking back trembling on the bench and covering her face
+with her hands_). I have not betrayed you, Caesar: I swear it.
+
+CAESAR. I know that. I have not trusted you. (_He turns from her, and
+is about to go out when Apollodorus and Britannus drag in Lucius
+Septimius to him. Rufio follows. Caesar shudders._) Again, Pompey's
+murderer!
+
+RUFIO. The town has gone mad, I think. They are for tearing the palace
+down and driving us into the sea straight away. We laid hold of this
+renegade in clearing them out of the courtyard.
+
+CAESAR. Release him. (_They let go his arms._) What has offended the
+citizens, Lucius Septimius?
+
+LUCIUS. What did you expect, Caesar? Pothinus was a favorite of
+theirs.
+
+CAESAR. What has happened to Pothinus? I set him free, here, not half
+an hour ago. Did they not pass him out?
+
+LUCIUS. Ay, through the gallery arch sixty feet above ground, with
+three inches of steel in his ribs. He is as dead as Pompey. We are
+quits now, as to killing--you and I.
+
+CAESAR. (_shocked_). Assassinated!--our prisoner, our guest! (_He
+turns reproachfully on Rufio_) Rufio----
+
+RUFIO (_emphatically--anticipating the question_). Whoever did it was
+a wise man and a friend of yours (_Cleopatra is qreatly emboldened_);
+but none of _us_ had a hand in it. So it is no use to frown at me.
+(_Caesar turns and looks at Cleopatra._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_violently--rising_). He was slain by order of the Queen of
+Egypt. I am not Julius Caesar the dreamer, who allows every slave to
+insult him. Rufio has said I did well: now the others shall judge me
+too. (_She turns to the others._) This Pothinus sought to make me
+conspire with him to betray Caesar to Achillas and Ptolemy. I refused;
+and he cursed me and came privily to Caesar to accuse me of his own
+treachery. I caught him in the act; and he insulted me--_me_, the
+Queen! to my face. Caesar would not avenge me: he spoke him fair and
+set him free. Was I right to avenge myself? Speak, Lucius.
+
+LUCIUS. I do not gainsay it. But you will get little thanks from
+Caesar for it.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Speak, Apollodorus. Was I wrong?
+
+APOLLODORUS. I have only one word of blame, most beautiful. You should
+have called upon me, your knight; and in fair duel I should have slain
+the slanderer.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_passionately_). I will be judged by your very slave,
+Caesar. Britannus: speak. Was I wrong?
+
+BRITANNUS. Were treachery, falsehood, and disloyalty left unpunished,
+society must become like an arena full of wild beasts, tearing one
+another to pieces. Caesar is in the wrong.
+
+CAESAR (_with quiet bitterness_). And so the verdict is against me, it
+seems.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_vehemently_). Listen to me, Caesar. If one man in all
+Alexandria can be found to say that I did wrong, I swear to have
+myself crucified on the door of the palace by my own slaves.
+
+CAESAR. If one man in all the world can be found, now or forever, to
+_know_ that you did wrong, that man will have either to conquer the
+world as I have, or be crucified by it. (_The uproar in the streets
+again reaches them._) Do you hear? These knockers at your gate are
+also believers in vengeance and in stabbing. You have slain their
+leader: it is right that they shall slay you. If you doubt it, ask
+your four counselors here. And then in the name of that _right_ (_He
+emphasizes the word with great scorn._) shall I not slay them for
+murdering their Queen, and be slain in my turn by their countrymen as
+the invader of their fatherland? Can Rome do less then than slay these
+slayers too, to shew the world how Rome avenges her sons and her
+honor? And so, to the end of history, murder shall breed murder,
+always in the name of right and honor and peace, until the gods are
+tired of blood and create a race that can understand. (_Fierce uproar.
+Cleopatra becomes white with terror._) Hearken, you who must not be
+insulted. Go near enough to catch their words: you will find them
+bitterer than the tongue of Pothinus. (_Loftily wrapping himself up in
+an impenetrable dignity._) Let the Queen of Egypt now give her orders
+for vengeance, and take her measures for defence; for she has
+renounced Caesar. (_He turns to go._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_terrified, running to him and falling on her knees_). You
+will not desert me, Caesar. You will defend the palace.
+
+CAESAR. You have taken the powers of life and death upon you. I am
+only a dreamer.
+
+CLEOPATRA. But they will kill me.
+
+CAESAR. And why not?
+
+CLEOPATRA. In pity----
+
+CAESAR. Pity! What! Has it come to this so suddenly, that nothing can
+save you now but pity? Did it save Pothinus?
+
+_She rises, wringing her hands, and goes back to the bench in despair.
+Apollodorus shews his sympathy with her by quietly posting himself
+behind the bench. The sky has by this time become the most vivid
+purple, and soon begins to change to a glowing pale orange, against
+which the colonnade and the great image shew darklier and darklier._
+
+RUFIO. Caesar: enough of preaching. The enemy is at the gate.
+
+CAESAR (_turning on him and giving way to his wrath_). Ay; and what
+has held him baffled at the gate all these months? Was it my folly, as
+you deem it, or your wisdom? In this Egyptian Red Sea of blood, whose
+hand has held all your heads above the waves? (_Turning on Cleopatra_)
+And yet, when Caesar says to such an one, "Friend, go free," you,
+clinging for your little life to my sword, dare steal out and stab him
+in the back? And you, soldiers and gentlemen, and honest servants as
+you forget that you are, applaud this assassination, and say "Caesar
+is in the wrong." By the gods, I am tempted to open my hand and let
+you all sink into the flood.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_with a ray of cunning hope_). But, Caesar, if you do, you
+will perish yourself.
+
+_Caesar's eyes blaze._
+
+RUFIO (_greatly alarmed_). Now, by great Jove, you filthy little
+Egyptian rat, that is the very word to make him walk out alone into
+the city and leave us here to be cut to pieces. (_Desperately, to
+Caesar_) Will you desert us because we are a parcel of fools? I mean
+no harm by killing: I do it as a dog kills a cat, by instinct. We are
+all dogs at your heels; but we have served you faithfully.
+
+CAESAR (_relenting_). Alas, Rufio, my son, my son: as dogs we are like
+to perish now in the streets.
+
+APOLLODORUS (_at his post behind Cleopatra's seat_). Caesar, what you
+say has an Olympian ring in it: it must be right; for it is fine art.
+But I am still on the side of Cleopatra. If we must die, she shall not
+want the devotion of a man's heart nor the strength of a man's arm.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_sobbing_). But I don't want to die.
+
+CAESAR (_sadly_). Oh, ignoble, ignoble!
+
+LUCIUS (_coming forward between Caesar and Cleopatra_). Hearken to me,
+Caesar. It may be ignoble; but I also mean to live as long as I can.
+
+CAESAR. Well, my friend, you are likely to outlive Caesar. Is it any
+magic of mine, think you, that has kept your army and this whole city
+at bay for so long? Yesterday, what quarrel had they with me that they
+should risk their lives against me? But to-day we have flung them down
+their hero, murdered; and now every man of them is set upon clearing
+out this nest of assassins--for such we are and no more. Take courage
+then; and sharpen your sword. Pompey's head has fallen; and Caesar's
+head is ripe.
+
+APOLLODORUS. Does Caesar despair?
+
+CAESAR (_with infinite pride_). He who has never hoped can never
+despair. Caesar, in good or bad fortune, looks his fate in the face.
+
+LUCIUS. Look it in the face, then; and it will smile as it always has
+on Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_with involuntary haughtiness_). Do you presume to encourage
+me?
+
+LUCIUS. I offer you my services. I will change sides if you will have
+me.
+
+CAESAR (_suddenly coming down to earth again, and looking sharply at
+him, divining that there is something behind the offer_). What! At
+this point?
+
+LUCIUS (_firmly_). At this point.
+
+RUFIO. Do you suppose Caesar is mad, to trust you?
+
+LUCIUS. I do not ask him to trust me until he is victorious. I ask for
+my life, and for a command in Caesar's army. And since Caesar is a
+fair dealer, I will pay in advance.
+
+CAESAR. Pay! How?
+
+LUCIUS. With a piece of good news for you.
+
+_Caesar divines the news in a flash._
+
+RUFIO. What news?
+
+CAESAR (_with an elate and buoyant energy which makes Cleopatra sit up
+and stare_). What news! What news, did you say, my son Rufio? The
+relief has arrived: what other news remains for us? Is it not so,
+Lucius Septimius? Mithridates of Pergamos is on the march.
+
+LUCIUS. He has taken Pelusium.
+
+CAESAR (_delighted_). Lucius Septimius: you are henceforth my officer.
+Rufio: the Egyptians must have sent every soldier from the city to
+prevent Mithridates crossing the Nile. There is nothing in the streets
+now but mob--mob!
+
+LUCIUS. It is so. Mithridates is marching by the great road to Memphis
+to cross above the Delta. Achillas will fight him there.
+
+CAESAR (_all audacity_). Achillas shall fight Caesar there. See,
+Rufio. (_He runs to the table; snatches a napkin; and draws a plan on
+it with his finger dipped in wine, whilst Rufio and Lucius Septimius
+crowd about him to watch, all looking closely, for the light is now
+almost gone._) Here is the palace (_pointing to his plan_): here is
+the theatre. You (_to Rufio_) take twenty men and pretend to go by
+_that_ street (_pointing it out_); and whilst they are stoning you,
+out go the cohorts by this and this. My streets are right, are they,
+Lucius?
+
+LUCIUS. Ay, that is the fig market----
+
+CAESAR (_too much excited to listen to him_). I saw them the day we
+arrived. Good! (_He throws the napkin on the table and comes down
+again into the colonnade._) Away, Britannus: tell Petronius that
+within an hour half our forces must take ship for the western lake.
+See to my horse and armor. (_Britannus runs out._) With the rest, _I_
+shall march round the lake and up the Nile to meet Mithridates. Away,
+Lucius; and give the word.
+
+_Lucius hurries out after Britannus._
+
+RUFIO. Come: this is something like business.
+
+CAESAR (_buoyantly_). Is it not, my only son? (_He claps his hands.
+The slaves hurry in to the table._) No more of this mawkish reveling:
+away with all this stuff: shut it out of my sight and be off with you.
+(_The slaves begin to remove the table; and the curtains are drawn,
+shutting in the colonnade._) You understand about the streets, Rufio?
+
+RUFIO. Ay, I think I do. I will get through them, at all events.
+
+_The bucina sounds busily in the courtyard beneath._
+
+CAESAR. Come, then: we must talk to the troops and hearten them. You
+down to the beach: I to the courtyard. (_He makes for the staircase._)
+
+CLEOPATRA (_rising from her seat, where she has been quite neglected
+all this time, and stretching out her hands timidly to him_). Caesar.
+
+CAESAR (_turning_). Eh?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Have you forgotten me?
+
+CAESAR. (_indulgently_). I am busy now, my child, busy. When I return
+your affairs shall be settled. Farewell; and be good and patient.
+
+_He goes, preoccupied and quite indifferent. She stands with clenched
+fists, in speechless rage and humiliation._
+
+RUFIO. That game is played and lost, Cleopatra. The woman always gets
+the worst of it.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_haughtily_). Go. Follow your master.
+
+RUFIO (_in her ear, with rough familiarity_). A word first. Tell your
+executioner that if Pothinus had been properly killed--_in the
+throat_--he would not have called out. Your man bungled his work.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_enigmatically_). How do you know it was a man?
+
+RUFIO (_startled, and puzzled_). It was not you: you were with us when
+it happened. (_She turns her back scornfully on him. He shakes his
+head, and draws the curtains to go out. It is now a magnificent
+moonlit night. The table has been removed. Ftatateeta is seen in the
+light of the moon and stars, again in prayer before the white
+altar-stone of Ra. Rufio starts; closes the curtains again softly; and
+says in a low voice to Cleopatra_) Was it she? With her own hand?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_threateningly_). Whoever it was, let my enemies beware of
+her. Look to it, Rufio, you who dare make the Queen of Egypt a fool
+before Caesar.
+
+RUFIO (_looking grimly at her_). I will look to it, Cleopatra. (_He
+nods in confirmation of the promise, and slips out through the
+curtains, loosening his sword in its sheath as he goes._)
+
+ROMAN SOLDIERS (_in the courtyard below_). Hail, Caesar! Hail, hail!
+
+_Cleopatra listens. The bucina sounds again, followed by several
+trumpets._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_wringing her hands and calling_). Ftatateeta. Ftatateeta.
+It is dark; and I am alone. Come to me. (_Silence._) Ftatateeta.
+(_Louder._) Ftatateeta. (_Silence. In a panic she snatches the cord
+and pulls the curtains apart._)
+
+_Ftatateeta is lying dead on the altar of Ra, with her throat cut. Her
+blood deluges the white stone._
+
+
+ACT V
+
+_High noon. Festival and military pageant on the esplanade before the
+palace. In the east harbor Caesar's galley, so gorgeously decorated
+that it seems to be rigged with flowers, is along-side the quay, close
+to the steps Apollodorus descended when he embarked with the carpet. A
+Roman guard is posted there in charge of a gangway, whence a red
+floorcloth is laid down the middle of the esplanade, turning off to
+the north opposite the central gate in the palace front, which shuts
+in the esplanade on the south side. The broad steps of the gate,
+crowded with Cleopatra's ladies, all in their gayest attire, are like
+a flower garden. The façade is lined by her guard, officered by the
+same gallants to whom Bel Affris announced the coming of Caesar six
+months before in the old palace on the Syrian border. The north side
+is lined by Roman soldiers, with the townsfolk on tiptoe behind them,
+peering over their heads at the cleared esplanade, in which the
+officers stroll about, chatting. Among these are Belzanor and the
+Persian; also the Centurion, vinewood cudgel in hand, battle worn,
+thick-booted, and much outshone, both socially and decoratively, by
+the Egyptian officers._
+
+_Apollodorus makes his way through the townsfolk and calls to the
+officers from behind the Roman line._
+
+
+APOLLODORUS. Hullo! May I pass?
+
+CENTURION. Pass Apollodorus the Sicilian there! (_The soldiers let him
+through._)
+
+BELZANOR. Is Caesar at hand?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Not yet. He is still in the market place. I could not
+stand any more of the roaring of the soldiers! After half an hour of
+the enthusiasm of an army, one feels the need of a little sea air.
+
+PERSIAN. Tell us the news. Hath he slain the priests?
+
+APOLLODORUS. Not he. They met him in the market place with ashes on
+their heads and their gods in their hands. They placed the gods at his
+feet. The only one that was worth looking at was Apis: a miracle of
+gold and ivory work. By my advice he offered the chief priest two
+talents for it.
+
+BELZANOR (_appalled_). Apis the all-knowing for two talents! What said
+the chief priest?
+
+APOLLODORUS. He invoked the mercy of Apis, and asked for five.
+
+BELZANOR. There will be famine and tempest in the land for this.
+
+PERSIAN. Pooh! Why did not Apis cause Caesar to be vanquished by
+Achillas? Any fresh news from the war, Apollodorus?
+
+APOLLODORUS. The little King Ptolemy was drowned.
+
+BELZANOR. Drowned! How?
+
+APOLLODORUS. With the rest of them. Caesar attacked them from three
+sides at once and swept them into the Nile. Ptolemy's barge sank.
+
+BELZANOR. A marvelous man, this Caesar! Will he come soon, think you?
+
+APOLLODORUS. He was settling the Jewish question when I left.
+
+_A flourish of trumpets from the north, and commotion among the
+townsfolk, announces the approach of Caesar._
+
+PERSIAN. He has made short work of them. Here he comes. (_He hurries
+to his post in front of the Egyptian lines._)
+
+BELZANOR (_following him_). Ho there! Caesar comes.
+
+_The soldiers stand at attention, and dress their lines. Apollodorus
+goes to the Egyptian line._
+
+CENTURION (_hurrying to the gangway guard_). Attention there! Caesar
+comes.
+
+_Caesar arrives in state with Rufio: Britannus following. The soldiers
+receive him with enthusiastic shouting._
+
+CAESAR. I see my ship awaits me. The hour of Caesar's farewell to
+Egypt has arrived. And now, Rufio, what remains to be done before I
+go?
+
+RUFIO (_at his left hand_). You have not yet appointed a Roman
+governor for this province.
+
+CAESAR (_Looking whimsically at him, but speaking with perfect
+gravity_). What say you to Mithridates of Pergamos, my reliever and
+rescuer, the great son of Eupator?
+
+RUFIO. Why, that you will want him elsewhere. Do you forget that you
+have some three or four armies to conquer on your way home?
+
+CAESAR. Indeed! Well, what say you to yourself?
+
+RUFIO (_incredulously_). I! I a governor! What are you dreaming of? Do
+you not know that I am only the son of a freedman?
+
+CAESAR (_affectionately_). Has not Caesar called you his son?
+(_Calling to the whole assembly_) Peace awhile there; and hear me.
+
+THE ROMAN SOLDIERS. Hear Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Hear the service, quality, rank and name of the Roman
+governor. By service, Caesar's shield; by quality, Caesar's friend; by
+rank, a Roman soldier. (_The Roman soldiers give a triumphant shout._)
+By name, Rufio. (_They shout again._)
+
+RUFIO (_kissing Caesar's hand_). Ay: I am Caesar's shield; but of what
+use shall I be when I am no longer on Caesar's arm? Well, no matter--
+(_He becomes husky, and turns away to recover himself._)
+
+CAESAR. Where is that British Islander of mine?
+
+BRITANNUS (_coming forward on Caesar's right hand_). Here, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR. Who bade you, pray, thrust yourself into the battle of the
+Delta, uttering the barbarous cries of your native land, and affirming
+yourself a match for any four of the Egyptians, to whom you applied
+unseemly epithets?
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: I ask you to excuse the language that escaped me in
+the heat of the moment.
+
+CAESAR. And how did you, who cannot swim, cross the canal with us when
+we stormed the camp?
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: I clung to the tail of your horse.
+
+CAESAR. These are not the deeds of a slave, Britannicus, but of a free
+man.
+
+BRITANNUS. Caesar: I was born free.
+
+CAESAR. But they call you Caesar's slave.
+
+BRITANNUS. Only as Caesar's slave have I found real freedom.
+
+CAESAR (_moved_). Well said. Ungrateful that I am, I was about to set
+you free; but now I will not part from you for a million talents. (_He
+claps him friendly on the shoulder. Britannus, gratified, but a trifle
+shamefaced, takes his hand and kisses it sheepishly._)
+
+BELZANOR (_to the Persian_). This Roman knows how to make men serve
+him.
+
+PERSIAN. Ay: men too humble to become dangerous rivals to him.
+
+BELZANOR. O subtle one! O cynic!
+
+CAESAR (_seeing Apollodorus in the Egyptian corner and calling to
+him_). Apollodorus: I leave the art of Egypt in your charge. Remember:
+Rome loves art and will encourage it ungrudgingly.
+
+APOLLODORUS. I understand, Caesar. Rome will produce no art itself;
+but it will buy up and take away whatever the other nations produce.
+
+CAESAR. What! Rome produces no art! Is peace not an art? is war not an
+art? is government not an art? is civilization not an art? All these
+we give you in exchange for a few ornaments. You will have the best of
+the bargain. (_Turning to Rufio_) And now, what else have I to do
+before I embark? (_Trying to recollect_) There is something I cannot
+remember: what _can_ it be? Well, well: it must remain undone: we must
+not waste this favorable wind. Farewell, Rufio.
+
+RUFIO. Caesar: I am loth to let you go to Rome without your shield.
+There are too many daggers there.
+
+CAESAR. It matters not: I shall finish my life's work on my way back;
+and then I shall have lived long enough. Besides: I have always
+disliked the idea of dying: I had rather be killed. Farewell.
+
+RUFIO (_with a sigh, raising his hands and giving Caesar up as
+incorrigible_). Farewell. (_They shake hands._)
+
+CAESAR (_waving his hand to Apollodorus_). Farewell, Apollodorus, and
+my friends, all of you. Aboard!
+
+_The gangway is run out from the quay to the ship. As Caesar moves
+towards it, Cleopatra, cold and tragic, cunningly dressed in black,
+without ornaments or decoration of any kind, and thus making a
+striking figure among the brilliantly dressed bevy of ladies as she
+passes through it, comes from the palace and stands on the steps.
+Caesar does not see her until she speaks._
+
+CLEOPATRA. Has Cleopatra no part in this leave taking?
+
+CAESAR (_enlightened_). Ah, I _knew_ there was something. (_To Rufio_)
+How could you let me forget her, Rufio? (_Hastening to her_) Had I
+gone without seeing you, I should never have forgiven myself. (_He
+takes her hands, and brings her into the middle of the esplanade. She
+submits stonily._) Is this mourning for me?
+
+CLEOPATRA. No.
+
+CAESAR (_remorsefully_). Ah, that was thoughtless of me! It is for
+your brother.
+
+CLEOPATRA. No.
+
+CAESAR. For whom, then?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Ask the Roman governor whom you have left us.
+
+CAESAR. Rufio?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Yes: Rufio. (_She points at him with deadly scorn._) He who
+is to rule here in Caesar's name, in Caesar's way, according to
+Caesar's boasted laws of life.
+
+CAESAR (_dubiously_). He is to rule as he can, Cleopatra. He has taken
+the work upon him, and will do it in his own way.
+
+CLEOPATRA. Not in your way, then?
+
+CAESAR (_puzzled_). What do you mean by my way?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Without punishment. Without revenge. Without judgment.
+
+CAESAR (_approvingly_). Ay: that is the right way, the great way, the
+only possible way in the end. (_To Rufio_) Believe it, Rufio, if you
+can.
+
+RUFIO. Why, I believe it, Caesar. You have convinced me of it long
+ago. But look you. You are sailing for Numidia to-day. Now tell me: if
+you meet a hungry lion there, you will not punish it for wanting to
+eat you?
+
+CAESAR (_wondering what he is driving at_). No.
+
+RUFIO. Nor revenge upon it the blood of those it has already eaten.
+
+CAESAR. No.
+
+RUFIO. Nor judge it for its guiltiness.
+
+CAESAR. No.
+
+RUFIO. What, then, will you do to save your life from it?
+
+CAESAR (_promptly_). Kill it, man, without malice, just as it would
+kill me. What does this parable of the lion mean?
+
+RUFIO. Why, Cleopatra had a tigress that killed men at bidding. I
+thought she might bid it kill you some day. Well, had I not been
+Caesar's pupil, what pious things might I not have done to that
+tigress? I might have punished it. I might have revenged Pothinus on
+it.
+
+CAESAR (_interjects_). Pothinus!
+
+RUFIO (_continuing_). I might have judged it. But I put all these
+follies behind me; and, without malice, only cut its throat. And that
+is why Cleopatra comes to you in mourning.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_vehemently_). He has shed the blood of my servant
+Ftatateeta. On your head be it as upon his, Caesar, if you hold him
+free of it.
+
+CAESAR (_energetically_). On my head be it, then; for it was well
+done. Rufio: had you set yourself in the seat of the judge, and with
+hateful ceremonies and appeals to the gods handed that woman over to
+some hired executioner to be slain before the people in the name of
+justice, never again would I have touched your hand without a shudder.
+But this was natural slaying: I feel no horror at it.
+
+_Rufio, satisfied, nods at Cleopatra, mutely inviting her to mark
+that._
+
+CLEOPATRA (_pettish and childish in her impotence_). No: not when a
+Roman slays an Egyptian. All the world will now see how unjust and
+corrupt Caesar is.
+
+CAESAR (_taking her handy coaxingly_). Come: do not be angry with me.
+I am sorry for that poor Totateeta. (_She laughs in spite of
+herself._) Aha! you are laughing. Does that mean reconciliation?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_angry with herself for laughing_). No, _no_, NO!! But it
+is so ridiculous to hear you call her Totateeta.
+
+CAESAR. What! As much a child as ever, Cleopatra! Have I not made a
+woman of you after all?
+
+CLEOPATRA. Oh, it is you who are a great baby: you make me seem silly
+because you will not behave seriously. But you have treated me badly;
+and I do not forgive you.
+
+CAESAR. Bid me farewell.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I will not.
+
+CAESAR (_coaxing_). I will send you a beautiful present from Rome.
+
+CLEOPATRA (_proudly_). Beauty from Rome to Egypt indeed! What can Rome
+give _me_ that Egypt cannot give me?
+
+APOLLODORUS. That is true, Caesar. If the present is to be really
+beautiful, I shall have to buy it for you in Alexandria.
+
+CAESAR. You are forgetting the treasures for which Rome is most
+famous, my friend. You cannot buy _them_ in Alexandria.
+
+APOLLODORUS. What are they, Caesar?
+
+CAESAR. Her sons. Come, Cleopatra: forgive me and bid me farewell; and
+I will send you a man, Roman from head to heel and Roman of the
+noblest; not old and ripe for the knife; not lean in the arms and cold
+in the heart; not hiding a bald head under his conqueror's laurels;
+not stooped with the weight of the world on his shoulders; but brisk
+and fresh, strong and young, hoping in the morning, fighting in the
+day, and reveling in the evening. Will you take such an one in
+exchange for Caesar?
+
+CLEOPATRA (_palpitating_). His name, his name?
+
+CAESAR. Shall it be Mark Antony? (_She throws herself in his arms._)
+
+RUFIO. You are a bad hand at a bargain, mistress, if you will swap
+Caesar for Antony.
+
+CAESAR. So now you are satisfied.
+
+CLEOPATRA. You will not forget.
+
+CAESAR. I will not forget. Farewell: I do not think we shall meet
+again. Farewell. (_He kisses her on the forehead. She is much affected
+and begins to sniff. He embarks._)
+
+THE ROMAN SOLDIERS (_as he sets his foot on the gangway_). Hail,
+Caesar; and farewell!
+
+_He reaches the ship and returns Rufio's wave of the hand._
+
+APOLLODORUS (_to Cleopatra_). No tears, dearest Queen: they stab your
+servant to the heart. He will return some day.
+
+CLEOPATRA. I hope not. But I can't help crying, all the same. (_She
+waves her handkerchief to Caesar; and the ship begins to move._)
+
+THE ROMAN SOLDIERS (_drawing their swords and raising them in the
+air_). Hail, Caesar!
+
+
+NOTES TO CAESAR AND CLEOPATRA
+
+CLEOPATRA'S CURE FOR BALDNESS
+
+For the sake of conciseness in a hurried situation I have made
+Cleopatra recommend rum. This, I am afraid, is an anachronism: the
+only real one in the play. To balance it, I give a couple of the
+remedies she actually believed in. They are quoted by Galen from
+Cleopatra's book on Cosmetic.
+
+"For bald patches, powder red sulphuret of arsenic and take it up with
+oak gum, as much as it will bear. Put on a rag and apply, having
+soaped the place well first. I have mixed the above with a foam of
+nitre, and it worked well."
+
+Several other receipts follow, ending with: "The following is the best
+of all, acting for fallen hairs, when applied with oil or pomatum;
+acts also for falling off of eyelashes or for people getting bald all
+over. It is wonderful. Of domestic mice burnt, one part; of vine rag
+burnt, one part; of horse's teeth burnt, one part; of bear's grease
+one; of deer's marrow one; of reed bark one. To be pounded when dry,
+and mixed with plenty of honey til it gets the consistency of honey;
+then the bear's grease and marrow to be mixed (when melted), the
+medicine to be put in a brass flask, and the bald part rubbed til it
+sprouts."
+
+Concerning these ingredients, my fellow-dramatist, Gilbert Murray,
+who, as a Professor of Greek, has applied to classical antiquity the
+methods of high scholarship (my own method is pure divination), writes
+to me as follows: "Some of this I don't understand, and possibly Galen
+did not, as he quotes your heroine's own language. Foam of nitre is, I
+think, something like soapsuds. Reed bark is an odd expression. It
+might mean the outside membrane of a reed: I do not know what it ought
+to be called. In the burnt mice receipt I take that you first mixed
+the solid powders with honey, and then added the grease. I expect
+Cleopatra preferred it because in most of the others you have to
+lacerate the skin, prick it, or rub it till it bleeds. I do not know
+what vine rag is. I translate literally."
+
+APPARENT ANACHRONISMS
+
+The only way to write a play which shall convey to the general public
+an impression of antiquity is to make the characters speak blank verse
+and abstain from reference to steam, telegraphy, or any of the
+material conditions of their existence. The more ignorant men are, the
+more convinced are they that their little parish and their little
+chapel is an apex which civilization and philosophy have painfully
+struggled up the pyramid of time from a desert of savagery. Savagery,
+they think, became barbarism; barbarism became ancient civilization;
+ancient civilization became Pauline Christianity; Pauline Christianity
+became Roman Catholicism; Roman Catholicism became the Dark Ages; and
+the Dark Ages were finally enlightened by the Protestant instincts of
+the English race. The whole process is summed up as Progress with a
+capital P. And any elderly gentleman of Progressive temperament will
+testify that the improvement since he was a boy is enormous.
+
+Now if we count the generations of Progressive elderly gentlemen
+since, say, Plato, and add together the successive enormous
+improvements to which each of them has testified, it will strike us at
+once as an unaccountable fact that the world, instead of having been
+improved in 67 generations out all recognition, presents, on the
+whole, a rather less dignified appearance in Ibsen's Enemy of the
+People than in Plato's Republic. And in truth, the period of time
+covered by history is far too short to allow of any perceptible
+progress in the popular sense of Evolution of the Human Species. The
+notion that there has been any such Progress since Caesar's time (less
+than 20 centuries) is too absurd for discussion. All the savagery,
+barbarism, dark ages and the rest of it of which we have any record as
+existing in the past, exists at the present moment. A British
+carpenter or stonemason may point out that he gets twice as much money
+for his labor as his father did in the same trade, and that his
+suburban house, with its bath, its cottage piano, its drawingroom
+suite, and its album of photographs, would have shamed the plainness
+of his grandmother's. But the descendants of feudal barons, living in
+squalid lodgings on a salary of fifteen shillings a week instead of in
+castles on princely revenues, do not congratulate the world on the
+change. Such changes, in fact, are not to the point. It has been
+known, as far back as our records go, that man running wild in the
+woods is different to man kennelled in a city slum; that a dog seems
+to understand a shepherd better than a hewer of wood and drawer of
+water can understand an astronomer; and that breeding, gentle nurture
+and luxurious food and shelter will produce a kind of man with whom
+the common laborer is socially incompatible. The same thing is true of
+horses and dogs. Now there is clearly room for great changes in the
+world by increasing the percentage of individuals who are carefully
+bred and gently nurtured, even to finally making the most of every man
+and woman born. But that possibility existed in the days of the
+Hittites as much as it does to-day. It does not give the slightest
+real support to the common assumption that the civilized
+contemporaries of the Hittites were unlike their civilized descendants
+to-day.
+
+This would appear the tritest commonplace if it were not that the
+ordinary citizen's ignorance of the past combines with his
+idealization of the present to mislead and flatter him. Our latest
+book on the new railway across Asia describes the dulness of the
+Siberian farmer and the vulgar pursepride of the Siberian man of
+business without the least consciousness that the sting of
+contemptuous instances given might have been saved by writing simply
+"Farmers and provincial plutocrats in Siberia are exactly what they
+are in England." The latest professor descanting on the civilization
+of the Western Empire in the fifth century feels bound to assume, in
+the teeth of his own researches, that the Christian was one sort of
+animal and the Pagan another. It might as well be assumed, as indeed
+it generally is assumed by implication, that a murder committed with a
+poisoned arrow is different to a murder committed with a Mauser rifle.
+All such notions are illusions. Go back to the first syllable of
+recorded time, and there you will find your Christian and your Pagan,
+your yokel and your poet, helot and hero, Don Quixote and Sancho,
+Tamino and Papageno, Newton and bushman unable to count eleven, all
+alive and contemporaneous, and all convinced that they are heirs of
+all the ages and the privileged recipients of _the_ truth (all others
+damnable heresies), just as you have them to-day, flourishing in
+countries each of which is the bravest and best that ever sprang at
+Heaven's command from out of the azure main.
+
+Again, there is the illusion of "increased command over Nature,"
+meaning that cotton is cheap and that ten miles of country road on a
+bicycle have replaced four on foot. But even if man's increased
+command over Nature included any increased command over himself (the
+only sort of command relevant to his evolution into a higher being),
+the fact remains that it is only by running away from the increased
+command over Nature to country places where Nature is still in
+primitive command over Man that he can recover from the effects of the
+smoke, the stench, the foul air, the overcrowding, the racket, the
+ugliness, the dirt which the cheap cotton costs us. If manufacturing
+activity means Progress, the town must be more advanced than the
+country; and the field laborers and village artizans of to-day must be
+much less changed from the servants of Job than the proletariat of
+modern London from the proletariat of Caesar's Rome. Yet the cockney
+proletarian is so inferior to the village laborer that it is only by
+steady recruiting from the country that London is kept alive. This
+does not seem as if the change since Job's time were Progress in the
+popular sense: quite the reverse. The common stock of discoveries in
+physics has accumulated a little: that is all.
+
+One more illustration. Is the Englishman prepared to admit that the
+American is his superior as a human being? I ask this question because
+the scarcity of labor in America relatively to the demand for it has
+led to a development of machinery there, and a consequent "increase of
+command over Nature" which makes many of our English methods appear
+almost medieval to the up-to-date Chicagoan. This means that the
+American has an advantage over the Englishman of exactly the same
+nature that the Englishman has over the contemporaries of Cicero. Is
+the Englishman prepared to draw the same conclusion in both cases? I
+think not. The American, of course, will draw it cheerfully; but I
+must then ask him whether, since a modern negro has a greater "command
+over Nature" than Washington had, we are also to accept the
+conclusion, involved in his former one, that humanity has progressed
+from Washington to the _fin de siècle_ negro.
+
+Finally, I would point out that if life is crowned by its success and
+devotion in industrial organization and ingenuity, we had better
+worship the ant and the bee (as moralists urge us to do in our
+childhood), and humble ourselves before the arrogance of the birds of
+Aristophanes.
+
+My reason then for ignoring the popular conception of Progress in
+Caesar and Cleopatra is that there is no reason to suppose that any
+Progress has taken place since their time. But even if I shared the
+popular delusion, I do not see that I could have made any essential
+difference in the play. I can only imitate humanity as I know it.
+Nobody knows whether Shakespear thought that ancient Athenian joiners,
+weavers, or bellows menders were any different from Elizabethan ones;
+but it is quite certain that he could not have made them so, unless,
+indeed, he had played the literary man and made Quince say, not "Is
+all our company here?" but "Bottom: was not that Socrates that passed
+us at the Piræus with Glaucon and Polemarchus on his way to the house
+of Kephalus." And so on.
+
+CLEOPATRA
+
+Cleopatra was only sixteen when Caesar went to Egypt; but in Egypt
+sixteen is a riper age than it is in England. The childishness I have
+ascribed to her, as far as it is childishness of character and not
+lack of experience, is not a matter of years. It may be observed in
+our own climate at the present day in many women of fifty. It is a
+mistake to suppose that the difference between wisdom and folly has
+anything to do with the difference between physical age and physical
+youth. Some women are younger at seventy than most women at seventeen.
+
+It must be borne in mind, too, that Cleopatra was a queen, and was
+therefore not the typical Greek-cultured, educated Egyptian lady of
+her time. To represent her by any such type would be as absurd as to
+represent George IV by a type founded on the attainments of Sir Isaac
+Newton. It is true that an ordinarily well educated Alexandrian girl
+of her time would no more have believed bogey stories about the Romans
+than the daughter of a modern Oxford professor would believe them
+about the Germans (though, by the way, it is possible to talk great
+nonsense at Oxford about foreigners when we are at war with them). But
+I do not feel bound to believe that Cleopatra was well educated. Her
+father, the illustrious Flute Blower, was not at all a parent of the
+Oxford professor type. And Cleopatra was a chip of the old block.
+
+BRITANNUS
+
+I find among those who have read this play in manuscript a strong
+conviction that an ancient Briton could not possibly have been like a
+modern one. I see no reason to adopt this curious view. It is true
+that the Roman and Norman conquests must have for a time disturbed the
+normal British type produced by the climate. But Britannus, born
+before these events, represents the unadulterated Briton who fought
+Caesar and impressed Roman observers much as we should expect the
+ancestors of Mr. Podsnap to impress the cultivated Italians of their
+time.
+
+I am told that it is not scientific to treat national character as a
+product of climate. This only shews the wide difference between common
+knowledge and the intellectual game called science. We have men of
+exactly the same stock, and speaking the same language, growing in
+Great Britain, in Ireland, and in America. The result is three of the
+most distinctly marked nationalities under the sun. Racial
+characteristics are quite another matter. The difference between a Jew
+and a Gentile has nothing to do with the difference between an
+Englishman and a German. The characteristics of Britannus are local
+characteristics, not race characteristics. In an ancient Briton they
+would, I take it, be exaggerated, since modern Britain, disforested,
+drained, urbanified and consequently cosmopolized, is presumably less
+characteristically British than Caesar's Britain.
+
+And again I ask does anyone who, in the light of a competent knowledge
+of his own age, has studied history from contemporary documents,
+believe that 67 generations of promiscuous marriage have made any
+appreciable difference in the human fauna of these isles? Certainly I
+do not.
+
+JULIUS CAESAR
+
+As to Caesar himself, I have purposely avoided the usual anachronism
+of going to Caesar's books, and concluding that the style is the man.
+That is only true of authors who have the specific literary genius,
+and have practised long enough to attain complete self-expression in
+letters. It is not true even on these conditions in an age when
+literature is conceived as a game of style, and not as a vehicle of
+self-expression by the author. Now Caesar was an amateur stylist
+writing books of travel and campaign histories in a style so
+impersonal that the authenticity of the later volumes is disputed.
+They reveal some of his qualities just as the Voyage of a Naturalist
+Round the World reveals some of Darwin's, without expressing his
+private personality. An Englishman reading them would say that Caesar
+was a man of great common sense and good taste, meaning thereby a man
+without originality or moral courage.
+
+In exhibiting Caesar as a much more various person than the historian
+of the Gallic wars, I hope I have not succumbed unconsciously to the
+dramatic illusion to which all great men owe part of their reputation
+and some the whole of it. I admit that reputations gained in war are
+specially questionable. Able civilians taking up the profession of
+arms, like Caesar and Cromwell, in middle age, have snatched all its
+laurels from opponent commanders bred to it, apparently because
+capable persons engaged in military pursuits are so scarce that the
+existence of two of them at the same time in the same hemisphere is
+extremely rare. The capacity of any conqueror is therefore more likely
+than not to be an illusion produced by the incapacity of his
+adversary. At all events, Caesar might have won his battles without
+being wiser than Charles XII or Nelson or Joan of Arc, who were, like
+most modern "self-made" millionaires, half-witted geniuses, enjoying
+the worship accorded by all races to certain forms of insanity. But
+Caesar's victories were only advertisements for an eminence that would
+never have become popular without them. Caesar is greater off the
+battle field than on it. Nelson off his quarterdeck was so quaintly
+out of the question that when his head was injured at the battle of
+the Nile, and his conduct became for some years openly scandalous, the
+difference was not important enough to be noticed. It may, however, be
+said that peace hath her illusory reputations no less than war. And it
+is certainly true that in civil life mere capacity for work--the power
+of killing a dozen secretaries under you, so to speak, as a
+life-or-death courier kills horses--enables men with common ideas and
+superstitions to distance all competitors in the strife of political
+ambition. It was this power of work that astonished Cicero as the most
+prodigious of Caesar's gifts, as it astonished later observers in
+Napoleon before it wore him out. How if Caesar were nothing but a
+Nelson and a Gladstone combined! a prodigy of vitality without any
+special quality of mind! nay, with ideas that were worn out before he
+was born, as Nelson's and Gladstone's were! I have considered that
+possibility too, and rejected it. I cannot cite all the stories about
+Caesar which seem to me to shew that he was genuinely original; but
+let me at least point out that I have been careful to attribute
+nothing but originality to him. Originality gives a man an air of
+frankness, generosity, and magnanimity by enabling him to estimate the
+value of truth, money, or success in any particular instance quite
+independently of convention and moral generalization. He therefore
+will not, in the ordinary Treasury bench fashion, tell a lie which
+everybody knows to be a lie (_and consequently expects him as a matter
+of good taste to tell_). His lies are not found out: they pass for
+candors. He understands the paradox of money, and gives it away when
+he can get most for it: in other words, when its value is least, which
+is just when a common man tries hardest to get it. He knows that the
+real moment of success is not the moment apparent to the crowd. Hence,
+in order to produce an impression of complete disinterestedness and
+magnanimity, he has only to act with entire selfishness; and this is
+perhaps the only sense in which a man can be said to be _naturally_
+great. It is in this sense that I have represented Caesar as great.
+Having virtue, he has no need of goodness. He is neither forgiving,
+frank, nor generous, because a man who is too great to resent has
+nothing to forgive; a man who says things that other people are afraid
+to say need be no more frank than Bismarck was; and there is no
+generosity in giving things you do not want to people of whom you
+intend to make use. This distinction between virtue and goodness is
+not understood in England: hence the poverty of our drama in heroes.
+Our stage attempts at them are mere goody-goodies. Goodness, in its
+popular British sense of self-denial, implies that man is vicious by
+nature, and that supreme goodness is supreme martyrdom. Not sharing
+that pious opinion, I have not given countenance to it in any of my
+plays. In this I follow the precedent of the ancient myths, which
+represent the hero as vanquishing his enemies, not in fair fight, but
+with enchanted sword, superequine horse and magical invulnerability,
+the possession of which, from the vulgar moralistic point of view,
+robs his exploits of any merit whatever.
+
+As to Caesar's sense of humor, there is no more reason to assume that
+he lacked it than to assume that he was deaf or blind. It is said that
+on the occasion of his assassination by a conspiracy of moralists (it
+is always your moralist who makes assassination a duty, on the
+scaffold or off it), he defended himself until the good Brutus struck
+him, when he exclaimed "What! you too, Brutus!" and disdained further
+fight. If this be true, he must have been an incorrigible comedian.
+But even if we waive this story, or accept the traditional sentimental
+interpretation of it, there is still abundant evidence of his
+lightheartedness and adventurousness. Indeed it is clear from his
+whole history that what has been called his ambition was an instinct
+for exploration. He had much more of Columbus and Franklin in him than
+of Henry V.
+
+However, nobody need deny Caesar a share, at least, of the qualities I
+have attributed to him. All men, much more Julius Caesars, possess all
+qualities in some degree. The really interesting question is whether I
+am right in assuming that the way to produce an impression of
+greatness is by exhibiting a man, not as mortifying his nature by
+doing his duty, in the manner which our system of putting little men
+into great positions (not having enough great men in our influential
+families to go round) forces us to inculcate, but by simply doing what
+he naturally wants to do. For this raises the question whether our
+world has not been wrong in its moral theory for the last 2,500 years
+or so. It must be a constant puzzle to many of us that the Christian
+era, so excellent in its intentions, should have been practically such
+a very discreditable episode in the history of the race. I doubt if
+this is altogether due to the vulgar and sanguinary sensationalism of
+our religious legends, with their substitution of gross physical
+torments and public executions for the passion of humanity. Islam,
+substituting voluptuousness for torment (a merely superficial
+difference, it is true) has done no better. It may have been the
+failure of Christianity to emancipate itself from expiatory theories
+of moral responsibility, guilt, innocence, reward, punishment, and the
+rest of it, that baffled its intention of changing the world. But
+these are bound up in all philosophies of creation as opposed to
+cosmism. They may therefore be regarded as the price we pay for
+popular religion.
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Caesar and Cleopatra, by George Bernard Shaw
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