POTHINUS (_breaking out wrathfully_). That he will never do. We have a thousand men to his ten; and we will drive him and his beggarly legions into the sea. CLEOPATRA (_with scorn, getting up to go_). You rant like any common fellow. Go, then, and marshal your thousands; and make haste; for Mithridates of Pergamos is at hand with reinforcements for Caesar. Caesar has held you at bay with two legions: we shall see what he will do with twenty. POTHINUS. Cleopatra---- CLEOPATRA. Enough, enough: Caesar has spoiled me for talking to weak things like you. (_She goes out. Pothinus, with a gesture of rage, is following, when Ftatateeta enters and stops him._) POTHINUS. Let me go forth from this hateful place. FTATATEETA. What angers you? POTHINUS. The curse of all the gods of Egypt be upon her! She has sold her country to the Roman, that she may buy it back from him with her kisses. FTATATEETA. Fool: did she not tell you that she would have Caesar gone? POTHINUS. You listened? FTATATEETA. I took care that some honest woman should be at hand whilst you were with her. POTHINUS. Now by the gods---- FTATATEETA. Enough of your gods! Caesar's gods are all powerful here. It is no use _you_ coming to Cleopatra: you are only an Egyptian. She will not listen to any of her own race: she treats us all as children. POTHINUS. May she perish for it! FTATATEETA (_balefully_). May your tongue wither for that wish! Go! send for Lucius Septimius, the slayer of Pompey. He is a Roman: may be she will listen to him. Begone! POTHINUS (_darkly_). I know to whom I must go now. FTATATEETA (_suspiciously_). To whom, then? POTHINUS. To a greater Roman than Lucius. And mark this, mistress. You thought, before Caesar came, that Egypt should presently be ruled by you and your crew in the name of Cleopatra. I set myself against it---- FTATATEETA (_interrupting him--wrangling_). Ay; that it might be ruled by you and _your_ crew in the name of Ptolemy. POTHINUS. Better me, or even you, than a woman with a Roman heart; and that is what Cleopatra is now become. Whilst I live, she shall never rule. So guide yourself accordingly. (_He goes out._) _It is by this time drawing on to dinner time. The table is laid on the roof of the palace; and thither Rufio is now climbing, ushered by a majestic palace official, wand of office in hand, and followed by a slave carrying an inlaid stool. After many stairs they emerge at last into a massive colonnade on the roof. Light curtains are drawn between the columns on the north and east to soften the westering sun. The official leads Rufio to one of these shaded sections. A cord for pulling the curtains apart hangs down between the pillars._ THE OFFICIAL (_bowing_). The Roman commander will await Caesar here. _The slave sets down the stool near the southernmost column, and slips out through the curtains._ RUFIO (_sitting down, a little blown_). Pouf! That was a climb. How high have we come?