n 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. 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: sa