Читать книгу Collected Works - George Bernard Shaw, Bernard Shaw - Страница 127
ОглавлениеFTATATEETA. No, dear heart, no.
CLEOPATRA. Listen to me. If he leaves the Palace alive, never see my face again.
FTATATEETA. He? Poth——
CLEOPATRA (striking her on the mouth). Strike his life out as I strike his name from your lips. Dash him down from the wall. Break him on the stones. Kill, kill, kill him.
FTATATEETA (shewing all her teeth). The dog shall perish.
CLEOPATRA. Fail in this, and you go out from before me forever.
FTATATEETA (resolutely). So be it. You shall not see my face until his eyes are darkened.
Caesar comes back, with Apollodorus, exquisitely dressed, and Rufio.
CLEOPATRA (to Ftatateeta). Come soon—soon. (Ftatateeta turns her meaning eyes for a moment on her mistress; then goes grimly away past Ra and out. Cleopatra runs like a gazelle to Caesar.) So you have come back to me, Caesar. (Caressingly) I thought you were angry. Welcome, Apollodorus. (She gives him her hand to kiss, with her other arm about Caesar.)
APOLLODORUS. Cleopatra grows more womanly beautiful from week to week.
CLEOPATRA. Truth, Apollodorus?
APOLLODORUS. Far, far short of the truth! Friend Rufio threw a pearl into the sea: Caesar fished up a diamond.
CAESAR. Caesar fished up a touch of rheumatism, my friend. Come: to dinner! to dinner! (They move towards the table.)
CLEOPATRA (skipping like a young fawn). Yes, to dinner. I have ordered such a dinner for you, Caesar!
CAESAR. Ay? What are we to have?
CLEOPATRA. Peacocks’ brains.
CAESAR (as if his mouth watered). Peacocks’ brains, Apollodorus!
APOLLODORUS. Not for me. I prefer nightingales’ tongues. (He goes to one of the two covers set side by side.)
CLEOPATRA. Roast boar, Rufio!
RUFIO (gluttonously). Good! (He goes to the seat next Apollodorus, on his left.)
CAESAR (looking at his seat, which is at the end of the table, to Ra’s left hand). What has become of my leathern cushion?
CLEOPATRA (at the opposite end). I have got new ones for you.
THE MAJOR-DOMO. These cushions, Caesar, are of Maltese gauze, stuffed with rose leaves.
CAESAR. Rose leaves! Am I a caterpillar? (He throws the cushions away and seats himself on the leather mattress underneath.)
CLEOPATRA. What a shame! My new cushions!
THE MAJOR-DOMO (at Caesar’s elbow). What shall we serve to whet Caesar’s appetite?
CAESAR. What have you got?
THE MAJOR-DOMO. Sea hedgehogs, black and white sea acorns, sea nettles, beccaficoes, purple shellfish——
CAESAR. Any oysters?
THE MAJOR-DOMO. Assuredly.
CAESAR. British oysters?
THE MAJOR-DOMO (assenting). British oysters, Caesar.
CAESAR. Oysters, then. (The Major-Domo signs to a slave at each order; and the slave goes out to execute it.) I have been in Britain—that western land of romance—the last piece of earth on the edge of the ocean that surrounds the world. I went there in search of its famous pearls. The British pearl was a fable; but in searching for it I found the British oyster.
APOLLODORUS. All posterity will bless you for it. (To the Major-Domo) Sea hedgehogs for me.
RUFIO. Is there nothing solid to begin with?
THE MAJOR-DOMO. Fieldfares with asparagus——
CLEOPATRA (interrupting). Fattened fowls! have some fattened fowls, Rufio.
RUFIO. Ay, that will do.
CLEOPATRA (greedily). Fieldfares for me.
THE MAJOR-DOMO. Caesar will deign to choose his wine? Sicilian, Lesbian, Chian——
RUFIO (contemptuously). All Greek.
APOLLODORUS. Who would drink Roman wine when he could get Greek? Try the Lesbian, Caesar.
CAESAR. Bring me my barley water.
RUFIO (with intense disgust). Ugh! Bring me my Falernian. (The Falernian is presently brought to him.)
CLEOPATRA (pouting). It is waste of time giving you dinners, Caesar. My scullions would not condescend to your diet.
CAESAR (relenting). Well, well: let us try the Lesbian. (The Major-Domo fills Caesar’s goblet; then Cleopatra’s and Apollodorus’s.) But when I return to Rome, I will make laws against these extravagances. I will even get the laws carried out.
CLEOPATRA (coaxingly). Never mind. To-day you are to be like other people: idle, luxurious, and kind. (She stretches her hand to him along the table.)
CAESAR. Well, for once I will sacrifice my comfort—(kissing her hand) there! (He takes a draught of wine.) Now are you satisfied?
CLEOPATRA. And you no longer believe that I long for your departure for Rome?
CAESAR. I no longer believe anything. My brains are asleep. Besides, who knows whether I shall return to Rome?
RUFIO (alarmed). How? Eh? What?
CAESAR. What has Rome to shew me that I have not seen already? One year of Rome is like another, except that I grow older, whilst the crowd in the Appian Way is always the same age.
APOLLODORUS. It is no better here in Egypt. The old men, when they are tired of life, say “We have seen everything except the source of the Nile.”
CAESAR (his imagination catching fire). And why not see that? Cleopatra: will you come with me and track the flood to its cradle in the heart of the regions of mystery? Shall we leave Rome behind us—Rome, that has achieved greatness only to learn how greatness destroys nations of men who are not great! Shall I make you a new kingdom, and build you a holy city there in the great unknown?
CLEOPATRA (rapturously). Yes, yes. You shall.
RUFIO. Ay: now he will conquer Africa with two legions before we come to the roast boar.
APOLLODORUS. Come: no scoffing, this is a noble scheme: in it Caesar is no longer merely the conquering soldier, but the creative poet-artist. Let us name the holy city, and consecrate it with Lesbian Wine.
CAESAR. Cleopatra shall name it herself.
CLEOPATRA. It shall be called Caesar’s Gift to his Beloved.
APOLLODORUS. No, no. Something vaster than that—something universal, like the starry firmament.
CAESAR (prosaically). Why not simply The Cradle of the Nile?
CLEOPATRA. No: the Nile is my ancestor; and he is a god. Oh! I have thought of something. The Nile shall name it himself. Let us call upon him. (To the Major-Domo) Send for him. (The three men stare at one another; but the Major-Domo goes out as if he had received the most matter-of-fact order.) And (to the retinue) away with you all.
The retinue withdraws, making obeisance.
A priest enters, carrying a miniature sphinx with a tiny tripod before it. A morsel of incense is smoking in the tripod. The priest comes to the table and places the image in the middle of it. The light begins to change to the magenta purple of the Egyptian sunset, as if the god had brought a strange colored shadow with him. The three men are determined not to be impressed; but they feel curious in spite of themselves.
CAESAR. What hocus-pocus is this?
CLEOPATRA. You shall see. And it is not hocus-pocus. To do it properly, we should kill something to please him; but perhaps he will answer Caesar without that if we spill some wine to him.
APOLLODORUS (turning his head to look up over his shoulder at Ra). Why not appeal to our hawkheaded friend here?
CLEOPATRA (nervously). Sh! He will hear you and be angry.
RUFIO (phlegmatically). The source of the Nile is out of his district, I expect.
CLEOPATRA. No: I will have my city named by nobody but my dear little sphinx, because it was in its arms that Caesar found me asleep. (She languishes at Caesar; then turns curtly to the priest.) Go. I am a priestess, and have power to take your charge from you. (The priest makes a reverence and goes out.) Now let us call on the Nile all together. Perhaps he will rap on the table.
CAESAR. What! Table rapping! Are such superstitions still believed in this year 707 of the Republic?
CLEOPATRA. It is no superstition: our priests learn lots of things from the tables. Is it not so, Apollodorus?
APOLLODORUS. Yes: I profess myself a converted man. When Cleopatra is priestess, Apollodorus is devotee. Propose the conjuration.
CLEOPATRA. You must say with me “Send us thy voice, Father Nile.”
ALL FOUR (holding their glasses together before the idol). Send us thy voice, Father Nile.
The death cry of a man in mortal terror and agony answers them. Appalled, the men set down their glasses, and listen. Silence. The purple deepens in the sky. Caesar, glancing at Cleopatra, catches her pouring out her wine before the god, with gleaming eyes, and mute assurances of gratitude and worship. Apollodorus springs up and runs to the edge of the roof to peer down and listen.
CAESAR (looking piercingly at Cleopatra). What was that?
CLEOPATRA (petulantly). Nothing. They are beating some slave.
CAESAR. Nothing!
RUFIO. A man with a knife in him, I’ll swear.
CAESAR (rising). A murder!
APOLLODORUS (at the back, waving his hand for silence). S-sh! Silence. Did you hear that?
CAESAR. Another cry?
APOLLODORUS (returning to the table). No, a thud. Something fell on the beach, I think.
RUFIO (grimly, as he rises). Something with bones in it, eh?
CAESAR (shuddering). Hush, hush, Rufio. (He leaves the table and returns to the colonnade: Rufio following at his left elbow, and Apollodorus at the other side.)
CLEOPATRA (still in her place at the table). Will you leave me, Caesar? Apollodorus: are you going?
APOLLODORUS. Faith, dearest Queen, my appetite is gone.
CAESAR. Go down to the courtyard, Apollodorus; and find out what has happened.
Apollodorus nods and goes out, making for the staircase by which Rufio ascended.
CLEOPATRA. Your soldiers have killed somebody, perhaps. What does it matter?
The murmur of a crowd rises from the beach below. Caesar and Rufio look at one another.
CAESAR. This must be seen to. (He is about to follow Apollodorus when Rufio stops him with a hand on his arm as Ftatateeta comes back by the far end of the roof, with dragging steps, a drowsy satiety in her eyes and in the corners of the bloodhound lips. For a moment Caesar suspects that she is drunk with wine. Not so Rufio: he knows well the red vintage that has inebriated her.)
RUFIO (in a low tone). There is some mischief between those two.
FTATATEETA. The Queen looks again on the face of her servant.
Cleopatra looks at her for a moment with an exultant reflection of her murderous expression. Then she flings her arms round her; kisses her repeatedly and savagely; and tears off her jewels and heaps them on her. The two men turn from the spectacle to look at one another. Ftatateeta drags herself sleepily to the altar; kneels before Ra; and remains there in prayer. Caesar goes to Cleopatra, leaving Rufio in the colonnade.
CAESAR (with searching earnestness). Cleopatra: what has happened?
CLEOPATRA (in mortal dread of him, but with her utmost cajolery). Nothing, dearest Caesar. (With sickly sweetness, her voice almost failing) Nothing. I am innocent. (She approaches him affectionately) Dear Caesar: are you angry with me? Why do you look at me so? I have been here with you all the time. How can I know what has happened?
CAESAR (reflectively). That is true.
CLEOPATRA (greatly relieved, trying to caress him). Of course it is true. (He does not respond to the caress.) You know it is true, Rufio.
The murmur without suddenly swells to a roar and subsides.
RUFIO. I shall know presently. (He makes for the altar in the burly trot that serves him for a stride, and touches Ftatateeta on the shoulder.) Now, mistress: I shall want you. (He orders her, with a gesture, to go before him.)
FTATATEETA (rising and glowering at him). My place is with the Queen.
CLEOPATRA. She has done no harm, Rufio.
CAESAR (to Rufio). Let her stay.
RUFIO (sitting down on the altar). Very well. Then my place is here too; and you can see what is the matter for yourself. The city is in a pretty uproar, it seems.
CAESAR (with grave displeasure). Rufio: there is a time for obedience.
RUFIO. And there is a time for obstinacy. (He folds his arms doggedly.)
CAESAR (to Cleopatra). Send her away.
CLEOPATRA (whining in her eagerness to propitiate him). Yes, I will. I will do whatever you ask me, Caesar, always, because I love you. Ftatateeta: go away.
FTATATEETA. The Queen’s word is my will. I shall be at hand for the Queen’s call. (She goes out past Ra, as she came.)
RUFIO (following her). Remember, Caesar, your bodyguard also is within call. (He follows her out.)
Cleopatra, presuming upon Caesar’s submission to Rufio, leaves the table and sits down on the bench in the colonnade.
CLEOPATRA. Why do you allow Rufio to treat you so? You should teach him his place.
CAESAR. Teach him to be my enemy, and to hide his thoughts from me as you are now hiding yours.
CLEOPATRA (her fears returning). Why do you say that, Caesar? Indeed, indeed, I am not hiding anything. You are wrong to treat me like this. (She stifles a sob.) I am only a child; and you turn into stone because you think some one has been killed. I cannot bear it. (She purposely breaks down and weeps. He looks at her with profound sadness and complete coldness. She looks up to see what effect she is producing. Seeing that he is unmoved, she sits up, pretending to struggle with her emotion and to put it bravely away.) But there: I know you hate tears: you shall not be troubled with them. I know you are not angry, but only sad; only I am so silly, I cannot help being hurt when you speak coldly. Of course you are quite right: it is dreadful to think of anyone being killed or even hurt; and I hope nothing really serious has— (Her voice dies away under his contemptuous penetration.)
CAESAR. What has frightened you into this? What have you done? (A trumpet sounds on the beach below.) Aha! That sounds like the answer.
CLEOPATRA (sinking back trembling on the bench and covering her face with her hands). I have not betrayed you, Caesar: I swear it.
CAESAR. I know that. I have not trusted you. (He turns from her, and is about to go out when Apollodorus and Britannus drag in Lucius Septimius to him. Rufio follows. Caesar shudders.) Again, Pompey’s murderer!
RUFIO. The town has gone mad, I think. They are for tearing the palace down and driving us into the sea straight away. We laid hold of this renegade in clearing them out of the courtyard.
CAESAR. Release him. (They let go his arms.) What has offended the citizens, Lucius Septimius?
LUCIUS. What did you expect, Caesar? Pothinus was a favorite of theirs.
CAESAR. What has happened to Pothinus? I set him free, here, not half an hour ago. Did they not pass him out?
LUCIUS. Ay, through the gallery arch sixty feet above ground, with three inches of steel in his ribs. He is as dead as Pompey. We are quits now, as to killing—you and I.
CAESAR. (shocked). Assassinated!—our prisoner, our guest! (He turns reproachfully on Rufio) Rufio——
RUFIO (emphatically—anticipating the question). Whoever did it was a wise man and a friend of yours (Cleopatra is qreatly emboldened); but none of us had a hand in it. So it is no use to frown at me. (Caesar turns and looks at Cleopatra.)
CLEOPATRA (violently—rising). He was slain by order of the Queen of Egypt. I am not Julius Caesar the dreamer, who allows every slave to insult him. Rufio has said I did well: now the others shall judge me too. (She turns to the others.) This Pothinus sought to make me conspire with him to betray Caesar to Achillas and Ptolemy. I refused; and he cursed me and came privily to Caesar to accuse me of his own treachery. I caught him in the act; and he insulted me—me, the Queen! to my face. Caesar would not avenge me: he spoke him fair and set him free. Was I right to avenge myself? Speak, Lucius.
LUCIUS. I do not gainsay it. But you will get little thanks from Caesar for it.
CLEOPATRA. Speak, Apollodorus. Was I wrong?
APOLLODORUS. I have only one word of blame, most beautiful. You should have called upon me, your knight; and in fair duel I should have slain the slanderer.
CLEOPATRA (passionately). I will be judged by your very slave, Caesar. Britannus: speak. Was I wrong?
BRITANNUS. Were treachery, falsehood, and disloyalty left unpunished, society must become like an arena full of wild beasts, tearing one another to pieces. Caesar is in the wrong.
CAESAR (with quiet bitterness). And so the verdict is against me, it seems.
CLEOPATRA (vehemently). Listen to me, Caesar. If one man in all Alexandria can be found to say that I did wrong, I swear to have myself crucified on the door of the palace by my own slaves.
CAESAR. If one man in all the world can be found, now or forever, to know that you did wrong, that man will have either to conquer the world as I have, or be crucified by it. (The uproar in the streets again reaches them.) Do you hear? These knockers at your gate are also believers in vengeance and in stabbing. You have slain their leader: it is right that they shall slay you. If you doubt it, ask your four counselors here. And then in the name of that right (He emphasizes the word with great scorn.) shall I not slay them for murdering their Queen, and be slain in my turn by their countrymen as the invader of their fatherland? Can Rome do less then than slay these slayers too, to shew the world how Rome avenges her sons and her honor? And so, to the end of history, murder shall breed murder, always in the name of right and honor and peace, until the gods are tired of blood and create a race that can understand. (Fierce uproar. Cleopatra becomes white with terror.) Hearken, you who must not be insulted. Go near enough to catch their words: you will find them bitterer than the tongue of Pothinus. (Loftily wrapping himself up in an impenetrable dignity.) Let the Queen of Egypt now give her orders for vengeance, and take her measures for defence; for she has renounced Caesar. (He turns to go.)
CLEOPATRA (terrified, running to him and falling on her knees). You will not desert me, Caesar. You will defend the palace.
CAESAR. You have taken the powers of life and death upon you. I am only a dreamer.
CLEOPATRA. But they will kill me.
CAESAR. And why not?
CLEOPATRA. In pity——
CAESAR. Pity! What! Has it come to this so suddenly, that nothing can save you now but pity? Did it save Pothinus?
She rises, wringing her hands, and goes back to the bench in despair. Apollodorus shews his sympathy with her by quietly posting himself behind the bench. The sky has by this time become the most vivid purple, and soon begins to change to a glowing pale orange, against which the colonnade and the great image shew darklier and darklier.
RUFIO. Caesar: enough of preaching. The enemy is at the gate.
CAESAR (turning on him and giving way to his wrath). Ay; and what has held him baffled at the gate all these months? Was it my folly, as you deem it, or your wisdom? In this Egyptian Red Sea of blood, whose hand has held all your heads above the waves? (Turning on Cleopatra) And yet, when Caesar says to such an one, “Friend, go free,” you, clinging for your little life to my sword, dare steal out and stab him in the back? And you, soldiers and gentlemen, and honest servants as you forget that you are, applaud this assassination, and say “Caesar is in the wrong.” By the gods, I am tempted to open my hand and let you all sink into the flood.
CLEOPATRA (with a ray of cunning hope). But, Caesar, if you do, you will perish yourself.
Caesar’s eyes blaze.
RUFIO (greatly alarmed). Now, by great Jove, you filthy little Egyptian rat, that is the very word to make him walk out alone into the city and leave us here to be cut to pieces. (Desperately, to Caesar) Will you desert us because we are a parcel of fools? I mean no harm by killing: I do it as a dog kills a cat, by instinct. We are all dogs at your heels; but we have served you faithfully.
CAESAR (relenting). Alas, Rufio, my son, my son: as dogs we are like to perish now in the streets.
APOLLODORUS (at his post behind Cleopatra’s seat). Caesar, what you say has an Olympian ring in it: it must be right; for it is fine art. But I am still on the side of Cleopatra. If we must die, she shall not want the devotion of a man’s heart nor the strength of a man’s arm.
CLEOPATRA (sobbing). But I don’t want to die.
CAESAR (sadly). Oh, ignoble, ignoble!
LUCIUS (coming forward between Caesar and Cleopatra). Hearken to me, Caesar. It may be ignoble; but I also mean to live as long as I can.
CAESAR. Well, my friend, you are likely to outlive Caesar. Is it any magic of mine, think you, that has kept your army and this whole city at bay for so long? Yesterday, what quarrel had they with me that they should risk their lives against me? But to-day we have flung them down their hero, murdered; and now every man of them is set upon clearing out this nest of assassins—for such we are and no more. Take courage then; and sharpen your sword. Pompey’s head has fallen; and Caesar’s head is ripe.
APOLLODORUS. Does Caesar despair?
CAESAR (with infinite pride). He who has never hoped can never despair. Caesar, in good or bad fortune, looks his fate in the face.
LUCIUS. Look it in the face, then; and it will smile as it always has on Caesar.
CAESAR (with involuntary haughtiness). Do you presume to encourage me?
LUCIUS. I offer you my services. I will change sides if you will have me.
CAESAR (suddenly coming down to earth again, and looking sharply at him, divining that there is something behind the offer). What! At this point?
LUCIUS (firmly). At this point.
RUFIO. Do you suppose Caesar is mad, to trust you?
LUCIUS. I do not ask him to trust me until he is victorious. I ask for my life, and for a command in Caesar’s army. And since Caesar is a fair dealer, I will pay in advance.
CAESAR. Pay! How?
LUCIUS. With a piece of good news for you.
Caesar divines the news in a flash.
RUFIO. What news?
CAESAR (with an elate and buoyant energy which makes Cleopatra sit up and stare). What news! What news, did you say, my son Rufio? The relief has arrived: what other news remains for us? Is it not so, Lucius Septimius? Mithridates of Pergamos is on the march.
LUCIUS. He has taken Pelusium.
CAESAR (delighted). Lucius Septimius: you are henceforth my officer. Rufio: the Egyptians must have sent every soldier from the city to prevent Mithridates crossing the Nile. There is nothing in the streets now but mob—mob!
LUCIUS. It is so. Mithridates is marching by the great road to Memphis to cross above the Delta. Achillas will fight him there.
CAESAR (all audacity). Achillas shall fight Caesar there. See, Rufio. (He runs to the table; snatches a napkin; and draws a plan on it with his finger dipped in wine, whilst Rufio and Lucius Septimius crowd about him to watch, all looking closely, for the light is now almost gone.) Here is the palace (pointing to his plan): here is the theatre. You (to Rufio) take twenty men and pretend to go by that street (pointing it out); and whilst they are stoning you, out go the cohorts by this and this. My streets are right, are they, Lucius?
LUCIUS. Ay, that is the fig market——
CAESAR (too much excited to listen to him). I saw them the day we arrived. Good! (He throws the napkin on the table and comes down again into the colonnade.) Away, Britannus: tell Petronius that within an hour half our forces must take ship for the western lake. See to my horse and armor. (Britannus runs out.) With the rest, I shall march round the lake and up the Nile to meet Mithridates. Away, Lucius; and give the word.
Lucius hurries out after Britannus.
RUFIO. Come: this is something like business.
CAESAR (buoyantly). Is it not, my only son? (He claps his hands. The slaves hurry in to the table.) No more of this mawkish reveling: away with all this stuff: shut it out of my sight and be off with you. (The slaves begin to remove the table; and the curtains are drawn, shutting in the colonnade.) You understand about the streets, Rufio?
RUFIO. Ay, I think I do. I will get through them, at all events.
The bucina sounds busily in the courtyard beneath.
CAESAR. Come, then: we must talk to the troops and hearten them. You down to the beach: I to the courtyard. (He makes for the staircase.)
CLEOPATRA (rising from her seat, where she has been quite neglected all this time, and stretching out her hands timidly to him). Caesar.
CAESAR (turning). Eh?
CLEOPATRA. Have you forgotten me?
CAESAR. (indulgently). I am busy now, my child, busy. When I return your affairs shall be settled. Farewell; and be good and patient.
He goes, preoccupied and quite indifferent. She stands with clenched fists, in speechless rage and humiliation.
RUFIO. That game is played and lost, Cleopatra. The woman always gets the worst of it.
CLEOPATRA (haughtily). Go. Follow your master.
RUFIO (in her ear, with rough familiarity). A word first. Tell your executioner that if Pothinus had been properly killed—in the throat—he would not have called out. Your man bungled his work.
CLEOPATRA (enigmatically). How do you know it was a man?
RUFIO (startled, and puzzled). It was not you: you were with us when it happened. (She turns her back scornfully on him. He shakes his head, and draws the curtains to go out. It is now a magnificent moonlit night. The table has been removed. Ftatateeta is seen in the light of the moon and stars, again in prayer before the white altar-stone of Ra. Rufio starts; closes the curtains again softly; and says in a low voice to Cleopatra) Was it she? With her own hand?
CLEOPATRA (threateningly). Whoever it was, let my enemies beware of her. Look to it, Rufio, you who dare make the Queen of Egypt a fool before Caesar.
RUFIO (looking grimly at her). I will look to it, Cleopatra. (He nods in confirmation of the promise, and slips out through the curtains, loosening his sword in its sheath as he goes.)
ROMAN SOLDIERS (in the courtyard below). Hail, Caesar! Hail, hail!
Cleopatra listens. The bucina sounds again, followed by several trumpets.
CLEOPATRA (wringing her hands and calling). Ftatateeta. Ftatateeta. It is dark; and I am alone. Come to me. (Silence.) Ftatateeta. (Louder.) Ftatateeta. (Silence. In a panic she snatches the cord and pulls the curtains apart.)
Ftatateeta is lying dead on the altar of Ra, with her throat cut. Her blood deluges the white stone.
