CAESAR. Well; and how did he get his throne back again?
CLEOPATRA (eagerly, her eyes lighting up). I will tell you. A beautiful young man, with strong round arms, came over the desert with many horsemen, and slew my sister’s husband and gave my father back his throne. (Wistfully) I was only twelve then. Oh, I wish he would come again, now that I am a Queen. I would make him my husband.
CAESAR. It might be managed, perhaps; for it was I who sent that beautiful young man to help your father.
CLEOPATRA (enraptured). You know him!
CAESAR (nodding). I do.
CLEOPATRA. Has he come with you? (Caesar shakes his head: she is cruelly disappointed.) Oh, I wish he had, I wish he had. If only I were a little older; so that he might not think me a mere kitten, as you do! But perhaps that is because you are old. He is many, many years younger than you, is he not?
CAESAR (as if swallowing a pill). He is somewhat younger.
CLEOPATRA. Would he be my husband, do you think, if I asked him?
CAESAR. Very likely.
CLEOPATRA. But I should not like to ask him. Could you not persuade him to ask me—without knowing that I wanted him to?