POTHINUS. But how can you be sure that he does not love you as men love women?
CLEOPATRA. Because I cannot make him jealous. I have tried.
POTHINUS. Hm! Perhaps I should have asked, then, do you love him?
CLEOPATRA. Can one love a god? Besides, I love another Roman: one whom I saw long before Caesar—no god, but a man—one who can love and hate—one whom I can hurt and who would hurt me.
POTHINUS. Does Caesar know this?
CLEOPATRA. Yes
POTHINUS. And he is not angry.
CLEOPATRA. He promises to send him to Egypt to please me!
POTHINUS. I do not understand this man.
CLEOPATRA (with superb contempt). You understand Caesar! How could you? (Proudly) I do—by instinct.