hey 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
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