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.)
FTATATEETA (suddenly seizing the sentinel’s arms from behind). Thrust your knife into the dog’s throat, Apollodorus. (The chivalrous Apollodorus laughingly shakes his head; breaks ground away from the sentinel towards the palace; and lowers his point.)
SENTINEL (struggling vainly). Curse on you! Let me go. Help ho!
FTATATEETA (lifting him from the ground). Stab the little Roman reptile. Spit him on your sword.
A couple of Roman soldiers, with a centurion, come running along the edge of the quay from the north end. They rescue their comrade, and throw off Ftatateeta, who is sent reeling away on the left hand of the sentinel.
CENTURION (an unattractive man of fifty, short in his speech and manners, with a vine wood cudgel in his hand). How now? What is all this?
FTATATEETA (to Apollodorus). Why did you not stab him? There was time!
APOLLODORUS. Centurion: I am here by order of the Queen to——
CENTURION (interrupting him). The Queen! Yes, yes: (to the sentinel) pass him in. Pass all these bazaar people in to the Queen, with their goods. But mind you pass no one out that you have not passed in—not even the Queen herself.
SENTINEL. This old woman is dangerous: she is as strong as three men. She wanted the merchant to stab me.
APOLLODORUS. Centurion: I am not a merchant. I am a patrician and a votary of art.
CENTURION. Is the woman your wife?
APOLLODORUS (horrified). No, no! (Correcting himself politely) Not that the lady is not a striking figure in her own way. But (emphatically) she is not my wife.
FTATATEETA (to the Centurion). Roman: I am Ftatateeta, the mistress of the Queen’s household.
CENTURION. Keep your hands off our men, mistress; or I will have you pitched into the harbor, though you were as strong as ten men. (To his men) To your posts: march! (He returns with his men the way they came.)
FTATATEETA (looking malignantly after him). We shall see whom Isis loves best: her servant Ftatateeta or a dog of a Roman.
SENTINEL (to Apollodorus, with a wave of his pilum towards the palace). Pass in there; and keep your distance. (Turning to Ftatateeta) Come within a yard of me, you old crocodile; and I will give you this (the pilum) in your jaws.
CLEOPATRA (calling from the palace). Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta.
FTATATEETA (Looking up, scandalized). Go from the window, go from the window. There are men here.
CLEOPATRA. I am coming down.
FTATATEETA (distracted). No, no. What are you dreaming of? O ye gods, ye gods! Apollodorus: bid your men pick up your bales; and in with me quickly.
APOLLODORUS. Obey the mistress of the Queen’s household.
FTATATEETA (impatiently, as the porters stoop to lift the bales). Quick, quick: she will be out upon us. (Cleopatra comes from the palace and runs across the quay to Ftatateeta.) Oh that ever I was born!
CLEOPATRA (eagerly). Ftatateeta: I have thought of something. I want a boat—at once.
FTATATEETA. A boat! No, no: you cannot. Apollodorus: speak to the Queen.
APOLLODORUS (gallantly). Beautiful Queen: I am Apollodorus the Sicilian, your servant, from the bazaar. I have brought you the three most beautiful Persian carpets in the world to choose from.
CLEOPATRA. I have no time for carpets to-day. Get me a boat.
FTATATEETA. What whim is this? You cannot go on the water except in the royal barge.
APOLLODORUS. Royalty, Ftatateeta, lies not in the barge but in the Queen. (To Cleopatra) The touch of your majesty’s foot on the gunwale of the meanest boat in the harbor will make it royal. (He turns to the harbor and calls seaward) Ho there, boatman! Pull in to the steps.
CLEOPATRA. Apollodorus: you are my perfect knight; and I will always buy my carpets through you. (Apollodorus bows joyously. An oar appears above the quay; and the boatman, a bullet-headed, vivacious, grinning fellow, burnt almost black by the sun, comes up a flight of steps from the water on the sentinel’s right, oar in hand, and waits at the top.) Can you row, Apollodorus?
APOLLODORUS. My oars shall be your majesty’s wings. Whither shall I row my Queen?
CLEOPATRA. To the lighthouse. Come. (She makes for the steps.)
SENTINEL (opposing her with his pilum at the charge). Stand. You cannot pass.
CLEOPATRA (flushing angrily). How dare you? Do you know that I am the Queen?
SENTINEL. I have my orders. You cannot pass.
CLEOPATRA. I will make Caesar have you killed if you do not obey me.
SENTINEL. He will do worse to me if I disobey my officer. Stand back.
CLEOPATRA. Ftatateeta: strangle him.
SENTINEL (alarmed—looking apprehensively at Ftatateeta, and brandishing his pilum). Keep off, there.
CLEOPATRA (running to Apollodorus). Apollodorus: make your slaves help us.
APOLLODORUS. I shall not need their help, lady. (He draws his sword.) Now soldier: choose which weapon you will defend yourself with. Shall it be sword against pilum, or sword against sword?
SENTINEL. Roman against Sicilian, curse you. Take that. (He hurls his pilum at Apollodorus, who drops expertly on one knee. The pilum passes whizzing over his head and falls harmless. Apollodorus, with a cry of triumph, springs up and attacks the sentinel, who draws his sword and defends himself, crying) Ho there, guard. Help!
Cleopatra, half frightened, half delighted, takes refuge near the palace, where the porters are squatting among the bales. The boatman, alarmed, hurries down the steps out of