MUSICIAN. Not very long: only four years. Your Majesty must first become proficient in the philosophy of Pythagoras.
CLEOPATRA. Has she (indicating the slave) become proficient in the philosophy of Pythagoras?
MUSICIAN. Oh, she is but a slave. She learns as a dog learns.
CLEOPATRA. Well, then, I will learn as a dog learns; for she plays better than you. You shall give me a lesson every day for a fortnight. (The musician hastily scrambles to his feet and bows profoundly.) After that, whenever I strike a false note you shall be flogged; and if I strike so many that there is not time to flog you, you shall be thrown into the Nile to feed the crocodiles. Give the girl a piece of gold; and send them away.
MUSICIAN (much taken aback). But true art will not be thus forced.
FTATATEETA (pushing him out). What is this? Answering the Queen, forsooth. Out with you.
He is pushed out by Ftatateeta, the girl following with her harp, amid the laughter of the ladies and slaves.
CLEOPATRA. Now, can any of you amuse me? Have you any stories or any news?
IRAS. Ftatateeta——
CLEOPATRA. Oh, Ftatateeta, Ftatateeta, always Ftatateeta. Some new tale to set me against her.