CAESAR (_unconcernedly taking off his toga and throwing it on the chair_). Well, my friend, get out if you can. And tell your friends not to kill any more Romans in the market place. Otherwise my soldiers, who do not share my celebrated clemency, will probably kill you. Britannus: pass the word to the guard; and fetch my armor. (_Britannus runs out. Rufio returns._) Well? RUFIO (_pointing from the loggia to a cloud of smoke drifting over the harbor_). See there! (_Pothinus runs eagerly up the steps to look out._) CAESAR. What, ablaze already! Impossible! RUFIO. Yes, five good ships, and a barge laden with oil grappled to each. But it is not my doing: the Egyptians have saved me the trouble. They have captured the west harbor. CAESAR (_anxiously_). And the east harbor? The lighthouse, Rufio? RUFIO (_with a sudden splutter of raging ill usage, coming down to Caesar and scolding him_). Can I embark a legion in five minutes? The first cohort is already on the beach. We can do no more. If you want faster work, come and do it yourself? CAESAR (_soothing him_). Good, good. Patience, Rufio, patience. RUFIO. Patience! Who is impatient here, you or I? Would I be here, if I could not oversee them from that balcony? CAESAR. Forgive me, Rufio; and (_anxiously_) hurry them as much as---- _He is interrupted by an outcry as of an old man in the extremity of misfortune. It draws near rapidly; and Theodotus rushes in, tearing his hair, and squeaking the most lamentable exclamations. Rufio steps back to stare at him, amazed at his frantic condition. Pothinus turns to listen._ THEODOTUS (_on the steps, with uplifted arms_). Horror unspeakable! Woe, alas! Help! RUFIO. What now? CAESAR (_frowning_). Who is slain? THEODOTUS. Slain! Oh, worse than the death of ten thousand men! Loss irreparable to mankind! RUFIO. What has happened, man? THEODOTUS (_rushing down the hall between them_). The fire has spread from your ships. The first of the seven wonders of the world perishes. The library of Alexandria is in flames. RUFIO. Psha! (_Quite relieved, he goes up to the loggia and watches the preparations of the troops on the beach._) CAESAR. Is that all? THEODOTUS (_unable to believe his senses_). All! Caesar: will you go down to posterity as a barbarous soldier too ignorant to know the value of books? CAESAR. Theodotus: I am an author myself; and I tell you it is better that the Egyptians should live their lives than dream them away with the help of books. THEODOTUS (_kneeling, with genuine literary emotion: the passion of the pedant_). Caesar: once in ten generations of men, the world gains an immortal book. CAESAR (_inflexible_). If it did not flatter mankind, the common executioner would burn it. THEODOTUS. Without history, death would lay you beside your meanest soldier. CAESAR. Death will do that in any case. I ask no better grave. THEODOTUS. What is burning there is the memory of mankind. CAESAR. A shameful memory. Let it burn.