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.
