n 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 Verci