Part 4

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._)