CAESAR. Peace, peace, my child. Your gods are afraid of the Romans: you see the Sphinx dare not bite me, nor prevent me carrying you off to Julius Caesar. CLEOPATRA (_in pleading murmurings_). You won't, you won't. You said you wouldn't. CAESAR. Caesar never eats women. CLEOPATRA (_springing up full of hope_). What! CAESAR (_impressively_). But he eats girls (_she relapses_) and cats. Now you are a silly little girl; and you are descended from the black kitten. You are both a girl and a cat. CLEOPATRA (_trembling_). And will he eat me? CAESAR. Yes; unless you make him believe that you are a woman. CLEOPATRA. Oh, you must get a sorcerer to make a woman of me. Are you a sorcerer? CAESAR. Perhaps. But it will take a long time; and this very night you must stand face to face with Caesar in the palace of your fathers. CLEOPATRA. No, no. I daren't. CAESAR. Whatever dread may be in your soul--however terrible Caesar may be to you--you must confront him as a brave woman and a great queen; and you must feel no fear. If your hand shakes: if your voice quavers; then--night and death! (_She moans._) But if he thinks you worthy to rule, he will set you on the throne by his side and make you the real ruler of Egypt. CLEOPATRA (_despairingly_). No: he will find me out: he will find me out. CAESAR (_rather mournfully_). He is easily deceived by women. Their eyes dazzle him; and he sees them not as they are, but as he wishes them to appear to him. CLEOPATRA (_hopefully_). Then we will cheat him. I will put on Ftatateeta's head-dress; and he will think me quite an old woman. CAESAR. If you do that he will eat you at one mouthful. CLEOPATRA. But I will give him a cake with my magic opal and seven hairs of the white cat baked in it; and---- CAESAR (_abruptly_). Pah! you are a little fool. He will eat your cake and you too. (_He turns contemptuously from her._) CLEOPATRA (_running after him and clinging to him_). Oh, please, _please_! I will do whatever you tell me. I will be good! I will be your slave. (_Again the terrible bellowing note sounds across the desert, now closer at hand. It is the bucina, the Roman war trumpet._) CAESAR. Hark! CLEOPATRA (_trembling_). What was that? CAESAR. Caesar's voice. CLEOPATRA (_pulling at his hand_). Let us run away. Come. Oh, come. CAESAR. You are safe with me until you stand on your throne to receive Caesar. Now lead me thither. CLEOPATRA (_only too glad to get away_). I will, I will. (_Again the bucina._) Oh, come, come, come: the gods are angry. Do you feel the earth shaking? CAESAR. It is the tread of Caesar's legions. CLEOPATRA (_drawing him away_). This way, quickly. And let us look for the white cat as we go. It is he that has turned you into a Roman.