. 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 show 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--and
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?