RUFIO (_as Lucius departs_). Do you suppose he would let us go if he had our heads in his hands? CAESAR. I have no right to suppose that his ways are any baser than mine. RUFIO. Psha! CAESAR. Rufio: if I take Lucius Septimius for my model, and become exactly like him, ceasing to be Caesar, will you serve me still? BRITANNUS. Caesar: this is not good sense. Your duty to Rome demands that her enemies should be prevented from doing further mischief. (_Caesar, whose delight in the moral eye-to-business of his British secretary is inexhaustible, smiles intelligently._) RUFIO. It is no use talking to him, Britannus: you may save your breath to cool your porridge. But mark this, Caesar. Clemency is very well for you; but what is it for your soldiers, who have to fight to-morrow the men you spared yesterday? You may give what orders you please; but I tell you that your next victory will be a massacre, thanks to your clemency. _I_, for one, will take no prisoners. I will kill my enemies in the field; and then you can preach as much clemency as you please: I shall never have to fight them again. And now, with your leave, I will see these gentry off the premises. (_He turns to go._) CAESAR (_turning also and seeing Ptolemy_). What! Have they left the boy alone! Oh shame, shame! RUFIO (_taking Ptolemy's hand and making him rise_). Come, your majesty! PTOLEMY (_to Caesar, drawing away his hand from Rufio_). Is he turning me out of my palace? RUFIO (_grimly_). You are welcome to stay if you wish. CAESAR (_kindly_). Go, my boy. I will not harm you; but you will be safer away, among your friends. Here you are in the lion's mouth. PTOLEMY (_turning to go_). It is not the lion I fear, but (_looking at Rufio_) the jackal. (_He goes out through the loggia._) CAESAR (_laughing approvingly_). Brave boy! CLEOPATRA (_jealous of Caesar's approbation, calling after Ptolemy_). Little silly. You think that very clever. CAESAR. Britannus: Attend the King. Give him in charge to that Pothinus fellow. (_Britannus goes out after Ptolemy._) RUFIO (_pointing to Cleopatra_). And this piece of goods? What is to be done with _her_? However, I suppose I may leave that to you. (_He goes out through the loggia._) CLEOPATRA (_flushing suddenly and turning on Caesar_). Did you mean me to go with the rest? CAESAR (_a little preoccupied, goes with a sigh to Ptolemy's chair, whilst she waits for his answer with red cheeks and clenched fists_). You are free to do just as you please, Cleopatra. CLEOPATRA. Then you do not care whether I stay or not? CAESAR (_smiling_). Of course I had rather you stayed. CLEOPATRA. Much, _much_ rather? CAESAR (_nodding_). Much, much rather. CLEOPATRA. Then I consent to stay, because I am asked. But I do not want to, mind. CAESAR. That is quite understood. (_Calling_) Totateeta. _Ftatateeta, still seated, turns her eyes on him with a sinister expression, but does not move._