The edge of the quay in front of the palace, looking out west over the east harbor of Alexandria to Pharos island, just off the end of which, and connected with it by a narrow mole, is the famous lighthouse, a gigantic square tower of white marble diminishing in size storey by storey to the top, on which stands a cresset beacon. The island is joined to the main land by the Heptastadium, a great mole or causeway five miles long bounding the harbor on the south.
In the middle of the quay a Roman sentinel stands on guard, pilum in hand, looking out to the lighthouse with strained attention, his left hand shading his eyes. The pilum is a stout wooden shaft 41 feet long, with an iron spit about three feet long fixed in it. The sentinel is so absorbed that he does not notice the approach from the north end of the quay of four Egyptian market porters carrying rolls of carpet, preceded by Ftatateeta and Apollodorus the Sicilian. Apollodorus is a dashing young man of about 24, handsome and debonair, dressed with deliberate astheticism in the most delicate purples and dove greys, with ornaments of bronze, oxydized silver, and stones of jade and agate. His sword, designed as carefully as a medieval cross, has a blued blade showing through an openwork scabbard of purple leather and filagree. The porters, conducted by Ftatateeta, pass along the quay behind the sentinel to the steps of the palace, where they put down their bales and squat on the ground. Apollodorus does not pass along with them: he halts, amused by the preoccupation of the sentinel.
APOLLODORUS (calling to the sentinel). Who goes there, eh?
SENTINEL (starting violently and turning with his pilum at the charge, revealing himself as a small, wiry, sandy-haired, conscientious young man with an elderly face). What's this? Stand. Who are you?
APOLLODORUS. I am Apollodorus the Sicilian. Why, man, what are you dreaming of? Since I came through the lines beyond the theatre there, I have brought my caravan past three sentinels, all so busy staring at the lighthouse that not one of them challenged me. Is this Roman discipline?
SENTINEL. We are not here to watch the land but the water. 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? 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 harm's way, but stops, with his head just visible above the edge of the quay, to watch the fight. The sentinel is handicapped by his fear of an attack in the rear from Ftatateeta. His swordsmanship, which is of a rough and ready sort, is heavily taxed, as he has occasionally to strike at her to keep her off between a blow and a guard with Apollodorus. The Centurion returns with several soldiers. Apollodorus springs back towards Cleopatra as this reinforcement confronts him.
CENTURION (coming to the sentinel's right hand). What is this? What now?
SENTINEL (panting). I could do well enough for myself if it weren't for the old woman. Keep her off me: that is all the help I need.
CENTURION. Make your report, soldier. What has happened?
FTATATEETA. Centurion: he would have slain the Queen.
SENTINEL (bluntly). I would, sooner than let her pass. She wanted to take boat, and go--so she said--to the lighthouse. I stopped her, as I was ordered to; and she set this fellow on me. (He goes to pick up his pilum and returns to his place with it.)
CENTURION (turning to Cleopatra). Cleopatra: I am loath to offend you; but without Caesar's express order we dare not let you pass beyond the Roman lines.
APOLLODORUS. Well, Centurion; and has not the lighthouse been within the Roman lines since Caesar landed there?
CLEOPATRA. Yes, yes. Answer that, if you can.
CENTURION (to Apollodorus). As for you, Apollodorus, you may thank the gods that you are not nailed to the palace door with a pilum for your meddling.
APOLLODORUS (urbanely). My military friend, I was not born to be slain by so ugly a weapon. When I fall, it will be (holding up his sword) by this white queen of arms, the only weapon fit for an artist. And now that you are convinced that we do not want to go beyond the lines, let me finish killing your sentinel and depart with the Queen.
CENTURION (as the sentinel makes an angry demonstration). Peace there. Cleopatra. I must abide by my orders, and not by the subtleties of this Sicilian. You must withdraw into the palace and examine your carpets there.
CLEOPATRA (pouting). I will not: I am the Queen. Caesar does not speak to me as you do. Have Caesar's centurions changed manners with his scullions?
CENTURION (sulkily). I do my duty. That is enough for me.
APOLLODORUS. Majesty: when a stupid man is doing something he is ashamed of, he always declares that it is his duty.
CENTURION (angry). Apollodorus--
APOLLODORUS (interrupting him with defiant elegance). I will make amends for that insult with my sword at fitting time and place. Who says artist, says duelist. (To Cleopatra) Hear my counsel, star of the east. Until word comes to these soldiers from Caesar himself, you are a prisoner. Let me go to him with a message from you, and a present; and before the sun has stooped half way to the arms of the sea, I will bring you back Caesar's order of release.
CENTURION (sneering at him), And you will sell the Queen the present, no doubt.
APOLLODORUS. Centurion: the Queen shall have from me, without payment, as the unforced tribute of Sicilian taste to Egyptian beauty, the richest of these carpets for her present to Caesar.
CLEOPATRA (exultantly, to the Centurion). Now you see what an ignorant common creature you are!
CENTURION (curtly). Well, a fool and his wares are soon parted (He turns to his men). Two more men to this post here; and see that no one leaves the palace but this man and his merchandize. If he draws his sword again inside the lines, kill him. To your posts. March.
He goes out, leaving two auxiliary sentinels with the other.
APOLLODORUS (with polite goodfellowship). My friends: will you not enter the palace and bury our quarrel in a bowl of wine? (He takes out his purse, jingling the coins in it.) The Queen has presents for you all.
SENTINEL (very sulky). You heard our orders. Get about your business.
FIRST AUXILIARY. Yes: you ought to know better. Off with you.
SECOND AUXILIARY (looking longingly at the purse--this sentinel is a hooknosed man, unlike his comrade, who is squab faced). Do not tantalize