Slices from Shakespeare:
Taken straight, clarified—and with a twist of humor!
(A play written by Allacin
Morimizu)
Scenes
from:
 |
Presented for free at
in Methuen, MA on
high school and middle school students performing.
|
The Cast and Crew
The Merchant of Venice
- The Narrator, very intelligent but sassy (7 lines)
- The Duke,
the man with the power of life and death in Venice (13 lines)
- Salerio,
the Duke’s assistant (2 lines)
- The Legal Clerk, reads out loud the official correspondence (1 line)
- Antonio, the Merchant of Venice, dim and pitiable but likeable (9 lines)
- Shylock,
Antonio’s Jewish adversary, who is bent on revenge (19 lines)
- Bassanio,
Antonio’s warm-hearted friend (10 lines)
- Gratiano,
Antonio’s hot-headed friend (10 lines)
- Nerissa,
Gratiano’s wife in legal masculine disguise (3 lines)
- Portia,
Bassanio’s wife in legal masculine disguise (19 lines)
1st Intermission
Romeo and Juliet
- The Narrator (6 lines)
- The Game-Show Host of The Dating Game (1
line)
- Rosalind,
very beautiful (gestures only)
- Mystery Girl, very expressive (gestures only)
- Juliet,
sweet, sincere, and reflective (22 lines)
- Romeo,
impulsive and stealthy but sweet and sincere (20 lines)
- Juliet’s Nurse, ranges from sickly sweet to witchy (voice only)
2nd Intermission
Julius Caesar
- The Narrator, who represents Marc Antony at the end (7 lines)
- Caesar,
wise, noble, and adored by most of his people (24 lines)
- Calpurnia,
Caesar’s noble and beloved wife (7 lines)
- The Soothsayer, wild and mysterious but with good intentions (8 lines)
- Cassius,
the jealous mastermind of the plot to assassinate Caesar (13 lines)
- Brutus,
well respected but seduced to evil by Cassius, his relative (17 lines)
- Portia,
Brutus’s noble and beloved wife, and Cassius’ sister (9 lines)
- Lucius the Servant, of the house of Brutus (2 lines)
- Senator Publius, a friend of Caesar’s who doesn’t trust Cassius (1 line)
- Artemidorous, a friend of Caesar’s who tries to warn him (3 lines)
- Decius,
a quick-thinking assassin (5 lines)
- Metellus,
an assassin who sets up Caesar (1 line)
- Trebonius,
another assassin eager for the kill (1 line)
- Cinna,
a loud assassin who attempts to sway the crowd (2 lines)
- Casca,
a rude fellow who agrees to give the high sign (1 line)
- Director(s)
- Sound
Technicians
- Photographer
and Videographer
- Hairstyle
and Makeup Artists
- Stage
Helpers
- Curtain Person
- Spotlight
Operators
- Sign
Girls and Dressers
- Mural Artist
- Prop Master and Costumer
The Duke is perched on a throne-like
seat of judgment. Standing around him
are Antonio, Salerio, Bassanio, Gratiano, and the Clerk. Two upholstered chairs are to the side,
occupied by the Clerk and Gratiano, who speak later than the others. When the narrator walks onstage, the actors
freeze in place.
THE
NARRATOR: According to the Holy Bible,
“You sow what you reap.” A contemporary way of saying that is, “What goes around comes around” or “Back at
ya, Pal!” The bad guy in The Merchant of Venice is Shylock the
Jew, a name always uttered with contempt, as in “Shylock, the Jew!” Now, make no
mistake: It is wrong to treat Jewish people with contempt, but let me help you
understand where Shakespeare was coming from.
His day was trying to break free from some of the worst notions of the medieval era. One of them was the crazy idea
that Jews and Muslims should be converted to Christianity by force. Now saintly people who knew the Holy Scriptures said NO to this; that logical persuasion is the only appropriate way to try to convert
someone, but their voices were drowned out by religious fanatics—and by people
who coveted Jewish and Muslim wealth. Shylock the Jew is a loan shark who has cleverly plotted revenge for the
atrocities perpetrated against his people through the centuries at the hands of
so-called Christians: Shylock lends
money to a merchant named Antonio on the condition that Antonio forfeits a
pound of flesh near his heart if he doesn’t pay back all the money in
time. Poor, dim Antonio assumes his
business venture cannot fail, but guess
what? (Exits.)
THE
DUKE: Is Antonio here?
ANTONIO
(looking miserable but trying to be
steady): Ready, so please your
Grace.
THE
DUKE: I am sorry for thee, for thou are
come to answer a stony adversary, an inhuman wretch incapable of pity—void and
empty of one drop of mercy!
ANTONIO
(with sincerity): I have heard your Grace hath taken great
pains to modify my opponent’s rigorous cause, but since he stands obdurate—and
since no lawful means can carry me out of his reach—my answer to his fury is my
patience, and I am armed to suffer with quietness of spirit the very tyranny
and rage of his.
THE
DUKE (to Salerio): Go and call the Jew into the court.
SALERIO: He is ready at the door; he comes, my lord. (Shylock enters.)
THE
DUKE: Make room, and let him stand
before our face. Shylock, the world
thinks—and I think so, too—that you bring your malice to the last hour of act;
and then, ’tis thought, you will show mercy.
Where you now exact the penalty—which is a pound of this poor merchant’s
flesh—you will not only release the forfeiture, but touched with human
gentleness and love, forgive a portion of the principal, glancing an eye of
pity upon the poor merchant’s losses that have of late so huddled on his back
that they would evoke pity from brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint—even from
stubborn Turks and Tartars never trained to offices of tender courtesy. (Pauses
dramatically, then states with firmness) We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
SHYLOCK
(not at all intimidated): I have informed your Grace that by the holy
Sabbath I have already sworn to have the due and forfeit of my bond (holds up a rolled piece of parchment). If you deny it, let danger light upon your
city’s freedom! You’ll ask me why I
rather choose to have a pound of carrion flesh than to receive 3,000 ducats in
payment. I’ll not answer that, but say
it is my humor. Is it answered? What if my house is troubled by a rat and I
be pleased to give 10,000 ducats to have it poisoned? Are you answered yet? I can give no reason other than a fixed
hatred and loathing that I bear Antonio. Are you now answered in knowing why I press my suit?
BASSANIO
(a close friend of Antonio’s): That is no answer, thou unfeeling man, to
excuse thy cruelty!
SHYLOCK: I am not bound to please you with my answers.
BASSANIO: Do all men kill the things they do not love?
SHYLOCK: Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
BASSANIO: Every offense is not a hate at first.
SHYLOCK: Would you have a serpent sting you first?
GRATIANO
(interrupting with outrage and racial contempt): You yourself are as cold as a
serpent! Are you not human, Jew?!
SHYLOCK: Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, senses,
affections, and passions? Are we not fed
with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases,
healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a
Christian is? If you prick us, do we not
bleed? If you tickle us, do we not
laugh? If you poison us, do we not
die? And if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge?
ANTONIO
(gently interrupting): My friends, is it worth your time to argue
with this man? You may as well stand
upon the beach and ask the tide not to come in. You may as well question the wolf why it is hungry for the lamb. (Resigned
to die) Therefore, I beseech you that with suitable brevity and directness
you let me have judgment, and Shylock his will.
BASSANIO
(to Shylock): For your 3,000 ducats here is 6,000! (Holds up and shakes his money bag.)
SHYLOCK
(steadily implacable): If
the amount were six times that, I would not take it. Rather, I want my bond fulfilled to the
letter.
THE
DUKE (taking a different tack with
Shylock): Shylock how shall you hope
for mercy from the Almighty, seeing that you render none?
SHYLOCK: What judgment shall I dread, doing no
wrong? Many among you have purchased
slaves, which you treat like animals. Shall I say to you, “Let them be free! Marry them to your heirs?” Thus
do I answer you: The pound of flesh
which I demand is dearly bought; it is mine and I will have it! If you deny me, fie upon your law! I demand justice! Answer me: shall I have it?
THE
DUKE (with a sigh of resignation): Upon my power I may dismiss this court to
your will unless Bellario, a learned doctor I have sent for to determine this,
arrives soon.
SALERIO
(eager for a solution to this mess): My lord, a messenger with a letter from the
doctor has just arrived from Padua
THE
DUKE: Call in the messenger at once!
BASSANIO: Be of good cheer, Antonio—have courage,
man! The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all before
you lose one drop of yours!
ANTONIO
(feeling hopeless): I feel in my bones I am destined for death: I am a tainted member of the flock, fit for
the slaughterhouse; the weakest kind of fruit drops earliest to the ground, and
so let me. A better use of your time,
dear friend, would be to write my epitaph.
THE
NARRATOR (all the cast freezes): Hi again. Take a good look at the messenger who is about to come in. He is
really a she because sometimes the
best man for the job is a woman! Her
name is Nerissa, the wife of Bassanio’s friend Gratiano (GRATIANO unfreezes and waves his hand so the audience is reminded of who he is). The name of
Bassanio’s wife is Portia, and we will soon be seeing her. In the meantime, know that these two ladies
had a feeling their men might need them in disguise to bail out their buddy
Antonio. Exits.
Enter Nerissa
dressed like a lawyer’s clerk.
THE
DUKE: Do you speak for Dr. Bellario from
Padua
NERISSA: I do, my Lord (bowing courteously before the Duke). Bellario sends your Grace his greetings and
this letter. (Nerissa presents the scroll or letter to the Duke, who looks it over while the following dialogue takes place during the delay.)
BASSANIO
(noticing that Shylock is not very
discretely sharpening a knife or small axe): Why
do you sharpen your knife here?
SHYLOCK: To cut the forfeiture from that loan
defaulter over there (pointing the knife
toward the lamentable Antonio).
GRATIANO
(rises from his chair in anger): May that knife fall, not upon the sole of
Antonio’s foot, but upon the immortal soul within you, harsh Jew! You make the edge of your knife keen, but not
even the executioner’s ax can bear half the keenness of your malignant hatred! (Calms
himself down and makes this earnest appeal) Can no prayers pierce your
soul?
SHYLOCK
(coldly): None that you have wit enough to utter.
GRATIANO
(flaring up again, getting almost
physical with Shylock): You
detestable dog! It almost makes me waver
in my faith that God has allowed you to live this long!
THE
DUKE (interrupting): Order in the court! This letter from Dr. Bellario doth commend a
young and learned doctor to our court.
While he is fetched hither, my clerk shall read the letter out loud.
THE
CLERK (reading slowly and clearly): “Your Grace shall understand that at the
receipt of your letter I am very sick, but in the instant that your messenger
came, I was visiting with a dear friend of mine, a young doctor from Rome Venice
All freeze and the narrator enters with
Portia, who is dressed in a fancy graduation gown to look like a doctor of law.
THE
NARRATOR: Here is “Dr. Balthasar” (making obvious quotation-mark gestures
toward the audience). Don’t let that
disguise fool you (should be an absurdly
manly getup with fake goatee beard): This is that Portia I told you about earlier. She is the wife of Antonio’s best buddy, Bessanio
(who unfreezes long enough to wave hi to
the audience so they make the connection), ready to lend her hubby a
helping hand without his knowing it—wouldn’t want to fracture his male ego now,
would we? Shakespeare seems to have
understood everyone—my kind of
guy! By the way, Shakespeare describes
Portia as being an excellent woman, similar to the Portia who was the wife of
Brutus during the times of Julius Caesar. You’ll see that Portia in
about an hour from now. In the meantime,
Portia, help these poor guys out, will ya? (Portia shakes her head
confidently.) Good girl! (The
Narrator exits.)
THE
DUKE (rising slightly from his throne): Give me your hand, doctor. (They shake hands.) You are most welcome here. Antonio and old Shylock both stand here,
awaiting your wisdom.
PORTIA
(addressing Shylock in a curt,
businesslike manor): Of a bizarre
nature is this suit you insist on pressing, but it stands within the bounds of
Venetian law. (Addressing Antonio in a similar fashion): You stand within his power to harm you, do
you not?
ANTONIO
(increasingly dejected): Aye, so he says.
PORTIA: Do you confess the debt you owe?
ANTONIO: I do.
PORTIA
(in a matter-of-fact tone): Then obviously the Jew must show mercy.
SHYLOCK: On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
PORTIA
(slowly, thoughtfully, in a logical
presentation that increasingly demonstrates a woman’s sweet persuasiveness to
the discerning audience):
The
quality of mercy is not strained—it comes not with compulsion; it
droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven above.
It is twice blest: It
blesses him who gives and him who takes.
’Tis a quality mightiest in the mighty; it
becomes the throned monarch better than his crown, whose
scepter shows the force of temporal power—the tribute to awe and majesty.
But mercy is above this scept’red sway: it is enthroned in the hearts of great kings,
and is an attribute of God Himself.
Therefore, Shylock, though justice be thy plea, consider this: If God treated us only with justice and no
mercy, none
of us would see salvation. Christians
and Jews alike pray for mercy, and
that same prayer doth teach us all to render deeds of mercy.
SHYLOCK
(with something in his tone and gestures
that suggests Portia is getting to him so he desperately tries to stick to his
original plan): My deeds upon my
head! I crave the law and the penalty I’m
entitled to!
PORTIA
(sweeter still): Is he not able to repay your money in full?
BASSANIO
(not being able to wait for Shylock to
answer): Yes—and more than twice as
much! See, I have it here (holds up his bag of coins and opens it for
Portia, who peers into it). I am
willing to pay ten times more if necessary! If this will not suffice, and malice be allowed by law to bear down truth,
then do this, I beg you: Bend the law a
little by your authority. (Sounding a bit self righteous by this
point) To do a great right, be willing to do a little wrong to curb this
cruel devil of his will!
PORTIA
(with dignity and gentleness, like a wise
mother instructing an erring child): It must not be. There is no power
in Venice
SHYLOCK
(with sincere admiration): A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel! O wise young judge, how I do honor thee! I never knew so young a body with so old a
head!
PORTIA
(ignoring the praise, thus earning more
admiration): I pray you, let me look
upon the bond.
SHYLOCK
(eagerly handing over his parchment): Here ’tis, most Reverend Doctor, here it is.
PORTIA
(silent a moment as she unrolls the
parchment and looks over the contents): Shylock, in that bag (pointing to
the one Bassanio holds visible) is at least thrice thy money offered thee.
SHYLOCK: I demand my rights according to the law!
PORTIA: Then by the law you shall be satisfied.
ANTONIO
(more dejected still): Yes, Shylock will skin me alive, but it is
better to get it over with.
The Narrator storms
in, looking disgusted with the scene.
In her hand
is a top hat and matching walking stick.
THE
NARRATOR (in an evening gown): Freeze! Can you believe this?! Antonio, stop acting like a wimp! (Waves
her hands magically and gives him the top hat and walking stick) I grant
you the dance skills of Fred Astaire and comedic voice of John Lithgow! (Antonio
puts on the hat and immediately conveys suave confidence and charm.) Portia, Nerissa, come with me to serve as
backup singers. (Portia and Nerissa take off their robes and other manly garb to reveal
stylish evening dresses, long white gloves, and necklaces underneath!) The three stand together slightly in back and
to the right of Antonio. They hum the tune
softly and sway in sync like Diana Ross’s Supremes while Antonio sings, then do
their “ooh, ahh, ohh” really loudly to crack up the audience!) Now, Antonio, do your thing to save your
skin from Shylock!
ANTONIO
(puts the hat on his head and lip-syncs
to John Lithgow’s big-band version of “You’ve Gotta Have Skin” with simple
choreography that demonstrates the lyrics):
You’ve gotta have skin; all you really need is skin: (Sways back
and forth with his cane planted between his feet for this verse and then moves
back and forth for the rest of the song, stopping when acting out a gesture.)
Skin’s the thing that if you’ve got it
outside, it helps keep your insides in.
(Gestures to his outer form and presses
his index finger to his stomach as he takes in a breath.)
It covers your nose and it’s wrapped
around your toes, (Touches nose, waves finger in circles down
to his toes.)
And inside it you put lemon meringue,
and outside you hang your clothes. (Rubs stomach like he ate something yummy and pretends to
hang something up, all while facing the audience.)
Skin’s the thing you feel at home in … (Wraps his arms
around and hugs himself, smirking.)
THE
NARRATOR, PORTIA, AND NERISSA: Ooh, aah, ooh …
ANTONIO:
And without it, furthermore,
Both your liver and abdomen would keep
falling on the floor— (Points to both like a nerdy professor
giving an anatomy lecture.)
And you’d be dressed in your intestine! (Stomps on the floor like there’s a mess down there and kicks it all away.)
A Siamese twin needs an extra set of skin, (Paces, waving
2 fingers like a peace sign.)
And when the doctor says that you’re
feeling sick, (Stop and says WHEW!, pretending to wipe a fevered brow)
Where does he stick the needle in? In the end of your skin! (Uses his cane
to poke himself in a comical way, jumps, and says OUCH!)
All your kith and all your
kinfolk—whether poor or whether rich—
(Spreads arms out to the audience and
then pretends to pull out an empty pocket.)
Oh, they all have lots of skin, folks: (Uses both
hands to make a round, big belly shape on himself. If a good-natured plump
actor is onstage, Antonio could point to him or her and visibly giggle, whereas
that person raises a fist at him.)
It’s convenient when they itch—nothing can match it when you scratch
it! (Bend up and down when pretend scratching.)
It fits perfectly; yours fits you and mine
fits me! (Points to audience and then to self.)
When you’re sitting down, it folds and
looks grand. (Quickly sits down, knees together.)
And then when you stand, it’s where
you’ve been— (Jumps up with a voila gesture.)
Ain’t you glad you got skin? (Points to the
audience and visibly winks.)
When you were just a little baby—well, your skin fit
fine. (Big finale, with chorus-line kicking: He struts and kicks, arms
stretched out and in, one hand holding the cane and the other the top hat.)
And it still is going to fit you when
you’re 6 foot 9! (Turns
and struts the other direction.)
So whether you’re fat, tall, big, small,
chubby, or thin … (Front and center stage by now, pivoting and
pointing Right, Left (toward the floor), Right, Left (toward the audience),
Right, Left (toward the ceiling)
Ain’t you glad you got skin?! (Ends with a
knee slide before Shylock, gesturing grandly and smiling at him.)
THE
NARRATOR, PORTIA, AND NERISSA: Oh, yeah!
THE
NARRATOR (elated): Back at you, Shylock! How do you answer that?
SHYLOCK
(unmoved): We trifle time. I pray thee pursue the sentence.
THE
NARRATOR (furious): What?! I give up! (Antonio slumps, the narrator snatches away the hat and stick, and then
stomps off. Antonio, Portia, and Nerissa
put back on their court clothes.)
PORTIA
(winking at the audience): Well, I’m not
giving up! Now, back to the matter
at hand: Shylock, a pound of that poor
merchant’s flesh is thine. The court
awards it, and the law doth give it—
SHYLOCK
(gleeful in triumph): Most rightful judge!
PORTIA
(glancing again at Shylock’s scroll,
which she has retained): Hold a moment!
(hand upraised); there is something
else. The words expressly are “a pound
of flesh.” Take then your flesh BUT if
in the cutting of it you shed even one
drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by the laws of Venice confiscate unto the state of Venice
GRATIANO
(overjoyed): O upright judge!
SHYLOCK
(crestfallen): Is that the law? (Portia
nods solemnly. Shylock motions toward
the money bag and says,) I shall take this offer then. Pay the bond thrice and let the Christian go.
BASSANIO
(starting to hand over the bag): Here is the money.
PORTIA
(cutting in): Peace! The Jew shall have all justice, just as he wanted. Take your pound of flesh, Shylock, but only
one pound. If you are off in your
estimation by even the weight of a grain of wheat, your life is forfeit!
GRATIANO
(gloating): A second Daniel! A Daniel, Jew!
PORTIA: Why do you pause, Shylock?
SHYLOCK: Forget about three times the amount—just give
me my principal and let me go!
PORTIA: You have refused it in open court. You shall have merely justice and your
bond. (She hands him back his scroll, which he takes back dejectedly. Antonio, on the other hand, starts perking up
as he follows the dialogue from face to face, like he is waking up from a long
nightmare.)
GRATIANO: A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel! I thank thee, Shylock, for teaching me that
phrase! (Shylock turns his back on him and begins to walk away.)
PORTIA: Wait, Shylock: the law hath yet another hold on you. It is enacted in the laws of Venice
THE
DUKE: That you may see the difference of
our spirit, Shylock, I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it. Half your wealth now belongs to Antonio and
the other half to the general needs of the state.
SHYLOCK (falling to his knees): Nay, take my life and all! You take my life when you take the means by
which I live!
PORTIA: What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
ANTONIO: So please my lord the Duke and all the court,
I return to Shylock my half of all his goods on two conditions: first, that he shows kindness toward his own
son and daughter, whom he disinherited for marrying Christians; and second, that
Shylock himself would seriously consider the claims of Christ as the Messiah
for the good of his own soul.
PORTIA: What say you, Shylock?
SHYLOCK
(with grudging admiration for Portia, the Duke, and Antonio): It shall be done.
THE
DUKE (in a kindly, encouraging way): Then do it!
The curtain
closes and all the cast in costume assembles quickly for a bow when the curtain
reopens.
1ST
INTERMISSION
Humorous Introduction: Half the stage is set like the 1970s TV game
show The Dating Game (watch a few YouTube segments to get the
general idea and be sure to use the cheesy game-show introductory theme music).
There are 3 tall swivel chairs or stools with
3 pretty girls sitting on them with their legs crossed: Bachelorette #1, Rosalind; Bachelorette #2,
Juliet; and Bachelorette #3, Mystery Girl. Juliet is dressed in fetching Italian Renaissance style, but the others
are in 70s clothes. The game-show host is right out of the swinging 70s with prominent
hair and sideburns. He stands near them,
grinning broadly, dressed in a loud plaid jacket, thick belt, and fat tie. Romeo, looking the part in traditional Romeo
clothing, stands by the game-show host. The
other half of the stage looks like the stereotypical Romeo and Juliet balcony scene. Romeo will
stay off the balcony; R & J will communicate with each other by voice and
gestures, not touch.
THE
NARRATOR (still in her evening gown from
the last play, but with a red sash around her waist, symbolizing love): How’s this for a blast from the
past? We’re actually going a lot farther
than just the 1970s, but let’s start here.
(Folds her arms and looks on with
amusement.)
THE
GAME-SHOW HOST (slickly, without missing
a beat): Thank you and welcome to The Dating Game! Our lucky bachelor this week is Romeo! (Romeo waves to the audience.). Which
one of these lovely girls will he
select? Bachelorette #1, Rosalind? (Rosalind
poses to attract attention and blows a kiss toward Romeo.) Bachelorette #2, Juliet? (She simply
waves and smiles at Romeo.) Or
Bachelorette #3, Mystery Girl? (She really hams it up by waving absurdly,
batting her eyelids, and making a little heart gesture by her chest or
whatever.)
THE
NARRATOR: Freeze frame! (The
other actors freeze in place.) Juliet
here is no surprise, but I’ll bet you’re wondering about these other two
girls. Here’s the scoop: Romeo's a guy more in love with love than
with an actual human female—you know the type: always wanting to be associated with a girlfriend for security reasons
or whatever; can’t stand being unattached. Now Romeo crashed a party cruising for Rosalind, who is drop-dead
gorgeous, but instead saw sweet Juliet and felt like he had been struck by a
two-by-four engraved with the letters L-O-V-E!
Romeo forgets all about Rosalind and our
scene enters with him cruising now for Juliet. (Looking toward Juliet, who faces the narrator.) Now, Juliet,
Shakespeare makes it clear that you were NOT cruising for love, but you got hit
by the same two-by-four just the same. Watch your step, girlfriend: This
kind of guy is just as likely to dump you for Mystery Girl over there! (She unfreezes long enough to act lovey
dovey again.) Enough with this 70s
stuff!
The bachelorettes
exit from their chairs, the game-show host leaves, and the onstage actors and stage
crew remove the chairs and any other 70s paraphernalia.
THE
NARRATOR: Well, that’s more like
it! (Sound
of a Black Hawk helicopter and a big thud from behind her: the sound of a falling body.) What was…? Ah, that was just Romeo. He’s a
bit of a klutz, but to tell you the truth, maybe I’ve been too hard on him. Maybe he is
sincere in his love for the first time in his life—you be the judge. Now remember the basic story of Romeo and Juliet: he loves her and she loves him, but their
families hate each other. In this scene,
Romeo is coming to see Juliet, but without her
seeing him. (Begins to walk offstage, but then comes back) Before we begin, I figure I should add
this disclaimer for all you romantics out there: What Romeo does here is now called STALKING,
and is NOT okay! (As the narrator starts
her disclaimer, the sound techs play the shark music from Jaws loud enough for the audience to pick up on its
meaning but soft enough so we can hear the rest of what the narrator says). Romeo was a bit of a nut—didn’t he ever hear
of flowers and candy? (The narrator exits
and the shark music stops. Then the
techs play softly from Tchaikovsky’s Greatest Hits: “Love
Theme from Romeo and Juliet,” “Scene from Swan Lake,” and “Adagio-allegro non
troppo from the Pathétique Symphony.”)
ROMEO
(entering, rubbing his shoulder from
falling, and speaking ruefully): He
jests at scars who never felt a wound! Alas, I am suffering the slings and arrows of the outrageous fortune
called L-O-V-E! (The sign girl flashes the L-O-V-E poster momentarily.)
JULIET
(walks onto the balcony—perhaps a perch
on a volleyball ladder—and sighs, looking up at the moon and tossing her head
and hair in an unconsciously bewitching way, eventually resting her hand on
her cheek)
ROMEO
(speaking to the audience only): But, soft be my footsteps! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! It is my lady; O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were—and of my presence
here! See how she leans her cheek upon
her hand: O, that I were a glove upon
that hand, that I might touch that cheek!
JULIET
(sighing again): Ay me!
ROMEO
(speaking to the audience still and not
yet making his presence known): She
speaks! O, speak again, bright angel,
for thou art as glorious to this night as is a winged messenger of heaven to
wondering eyes!
JULIET
(sighing yet again): O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?
THE
NARRATOR (barging in): Hold it! (Actors all freeze.) Allow me to translate that famous bit of
Shakespearese: “Wherefore art thou
Romeo?” sounds to us like she is wondering where he is—reasonable enough since
Romeo is still in stealth mode—but Shakespeare’s audience took it to mean,
“Romeo, why are you Romeo Montague—that is, from the people my people
hate?” (Looking toward the sound console) Sound tech, would you please rewind for a second take? (He
waves an obliging hand to her that the audience can see and plays an old-style
tape-recorder rewind sound.)
JULIET: O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if
thou wilt not and I declare my love and take your name, I’ll no longer be a
Capulet!
ROMEO
(one last time to the audience): Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this
promising development?
JULIET
(as if thinking out loud): ’Tis but thy name that is my enemy. What’s a Montague, after all? It is not a hand or a foot, arm, face, or any
other part belonging to a man. What’s in
a name? A rose by any other name would
smell as sweet. Remain your sweet self,
dear Romeo. Doff that other name, which is no part of thee, and take all of me!
ROMEO
(no longer able to contain himself): I
take thee at thy word: call me but love,
and I’ll be new baptized with that name!
JULIET
(stunned and outraged): What man art thou that thus bescreened in
night you stumble onto my heart’s secrets?
ROMEO: By a name I know not how to tell thee who I
am, for my name is hateful to myself since it is hateful to you.
JULIET
(in joyful recognition): My ears have not yet taken in a hundred
of your honeyed words, but they now know the sound: art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
ROMEO: Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.
JULIET: How camest thou hither, tell me?
ROMEO: By a strange device called Apple Maps! (Juliet
looks mildly puzzled.)
THE
NARRATOR (stepping out from the
curtain with her cell phone held high, addressing the audience): I’m
teaching him how to use my iPhone!
JULIET: These orchard walls are high and hard to
climb …
ROMEO
(rubbing his shoulder again with chagrin): Tell me about it!
JULIET
(not missing a beat): … this place is
death to you, considering who you are, if any of my kinsmen find you here!
ROMEO
(forgetting his shoulder and waxing
eloquent): With love’s light wings
did I o’er perch these walls!
NARRATOR
(stepping onstage briefly): Love’s light wings?! More like love’s nuclear bomb! (Looks
toward the technicians) Geek Squad,
how about you kill the Tchaikovsky music for a moment and give us one last rewind? (They
give visible thumbs up before playing the rewind sound.)
ROMEO
(looking at Juliet and speaking
earnestly, but the actors are positioned and mic’d so the audience can hear
their lines clearly): With love’s
light wings did I o’er perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love
out! What love can do, that does love
attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no hindrance to me! Indeed, there lies more peril in thine eye
than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, and I am proof
against their enmity! I am no pilot or
ship’s captain, but if you were as far as that vast shore wash’d with the
farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise! (He holds up his hands lovingly and longingly toward her.)
JULIET
(deeply moved): You know the mask of night is on my face,
but I tell you plainly that a maiden blush doth now brush my cheek. Do you truly love me, Romeo? You may think me forward for asking so
plainly and not playing hard-to-get, but I need you to pronounce your love
faithfully and make a proper offer of marriage. If you think I am too quickly won, shall I frown and play the game? In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond of
you! But trust me, gentleman: I’ll prove
more true than those who play lovers’ games!
ROMEO: Lady, by yonder blessed moon (points to a moon pinned to the backdrop curtain),
I swear to you my true love and my desire to marry you at our earliest
convenience …
JULIET
(gently interrupting): O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant
moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest thy love prove likewise
variable!
ROMEO: What shall I swear by?
JULIET: Do not swear! Although I have joy in thee, I have no joy in this contract tonight for
I fear it is too rash, too unadvised by good counsel.
ROMEO: O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
JULIET:
What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?
ROMEO: The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for
mine!
JULIET
(adoringly): I gave thee mine before thou didst request
it: and yet I would it were to give again!
ROMEO: Why? Would you withdraw it?
JULIET: Nay, my bounty is as boundless as the sea and
my love is as deep: the more I give to
thee, the more I have, for both are as infinite as God’s love.
NURSE
(offstage in a wacky voice that sounds
elderly): O Juliet, dear child: it’s beddy-bye time!
JULIET
(speaking a little softer and faster): Sweet Montague, be true: stay but a little and I will come again! (She
exits quickly.)
ROMEO
(feeling encouraged): O blessed, blessed
night! I am afraid that, it being night,
this is all but a dream!
JULIET
(re-entering): These few words, dear Romeo, and then I
say good night in truth: If your
profession of love is indeed honorable and your purpose, marriage—send me
official word tomorrow of the where, when, and before whom. Then my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay, and
call thee lord, as the sacred
Scriptures tell us Sarah honored Abraham.
NURSE
(offstage, sounding sickly sweet): O little Julietta …
JULIET
(addressing the nurse a bit impatiently): I’ll be there in a minute!
NURSE
(offstage, with no pretense of sweetness now): Juliet!
JULIET
(feeling rushed, but nonetheless flushed
with radiance): A thousand times
good night, beloved Romeo! (She exits.)
ROMEO
(sharing the thrill of the moment): A
thousand times the worse when thy presence is lacking! Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from
their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks! (Turns
away reluctantly.)
JULIET
(re-entering quickly and almost breathlessly): Romeo! (He
turns to face her with joy) ’Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone for
thy sake, but for my sake I wish you were like my pet bird, who hops but a
little from my hand before I pluck it back again, so eager for its company!
ROMEO: I would I were thy bird!
JULIET
(with a slightly broken voice, verging on
tears, for the mood of the play has switched from
humor to sympathy for Romeo and Juliet): My sweet, so would I; yet I would be
endangering you with my cherishing! Good
night, good night! Parting is such sweet
sorrow …
ROMEO
(sharing the sentiment): Yes, ’tis true. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes and peace upon
thy bosom. Would I were sleep and peace
to rest with you … but that will wait for marriage! Now I leave you to speak of the arrangements
with a trusted minister. Farewell for now!
In a sincere
way they blow each other a gentle kiss or extend an arm to one another
longingly as the curtain closes. If the
actors have done their jobs well, the audience is visibly moved because they
have heard some of the most beautiful lines ever written in the English
language. All the R & J cast and
crew quickly assemble for a bow.
2nd
INTERMISSION
The action
takes place first outdoors, in the forum of Rome, with simple Roman columns on
both sides of the stage and a fancy poster saying SPQR (senatus
popules que Romanus—for the senate and people of Rome), and then indoors, with
the stage split between Caesar’s house on the right and Brutus’s house on the
left.
Caesar is about to be confronted by a
wild-looking soothsayer or prophetess (with crazy hair that looks something
like the bride of Frankenstein). As
background music use a compilation of soundtracks from movies with a Roman
theme. Play the music a good 15 seconds
before the actors stroll onstage.
NARRATOR
(dressed Roman style in a simple white
tunic, diagonal gold chest band, and gold laurel leaf; she walks in from one end
of the stage and the others from the other end): That guy in the middle is Julius Caesar (Caesar
waves to the audience, while the narrator points to him and the others one by
one). The lady next to him dressed
in gold is his noble wife, Calpurnia (Calpurnia
waves). With her is an equally noble
woman, Portia (Portia waves), wife of
Brutus, who is one of Caesar’s best buddies (Brutus
waves). Another close “friend” (makes quotation marks gesture) is Portia’s
brother, Cassius, the jealous mastermind behind a plot to assassinate
Caesar—dun da dun dun! (Cassius rubs his
hands in a treacherous way to identify himself to the audience, while the sound
tech play cat calls and boos.) Other
so-called friends or co-conspirators here are Decius and Casca (they wave to the audience with a guilty
look, with more boos in the background). With “friends” like these, who needs enemies? Shakespeare’s play opens during the Feast of
Lupercalia, which honored the founding of Rome. Caesar and his entourage are headed toward a footrace, one of the main
festivities, and plan to cheer for Marc Antony, one of the favored contestants—and
a true friend of Caesar’s. (The narrator exits.)
CAESAR: Calpurnia!
CASSIUS
(sounding too eager to please): Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. Music stops.
CALPURNIA
(always addresses him sweetly and
respectfully because they enjoyed a close relationship): Yes, my lord?
CAESAR: When Antony runs in the race we’re about to
see, do stand directly in his sight so he may touch you with the holy stick he
bears, for the elders teach us that barren wives may thus shake off their
sterile curse.
CALPURNIA
(smiling, not at all offended but touched
that he was thinking of her): It
shall be done, my lord, and may we be blessed with many children! Music
resumes with crowd sound effects thrown in, and the group strolls on to the
race.
SOOTHSAYER
(sneaking up snake-like from behind and
almost hissing): Caesar!
CAESAR: Ha! Who calls?
CASSIUS: Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! Music
and sounds cease.
CAESAR
(not arrogantly but with concern for even
the lowliest citizen): Who is it in
the press that calls on me? I hear a
tongue, shriller than all the music. Speak: Caesar is turn’d to hear thee!
SOOTHSAYER
(in a shockingly loud voice in comparison
with the initial hiss): Beware the Ides
of March!
CAESAR: What person is that?
BRUTUS: A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides or Full Moon of
March, which is tomorrow.
CASSIUS: You, come from the throng; look upon
Caesar. (The soothsayer walks directly in front of Caesar.)
CAESAR: What say’st thou to me now? Speak once again.
SOOTHSAYER
CAESAR
(in a lighthearted mood because of the
festivities): She is a dreamer; let
us leave her and proceed to the race! (All exit but Brutus and Cassius. The soothsayer visibly shakes her head with
sadness as she leaves.)
CASSIUS: Will you go to see the race, Brutus?
BRUTUS
(sounding sad and preoccupied): Not I, Cassius: I am not gamesome; I do lack some of the
athletic spirit that is in Marc Antony. Let me not hinder you from seeing the race.
CASSIUS
(ignoring the race and speaking in a
confiding
BRUTUS
(appreciating the personal
interest): Cassius, I turn the
trouble of my countenance merely upon myself. Vexed am I of late over political concerns.
CASSIUS
(eagerly seizing on this long-hoped-for
opportunity): Indeed? You are not alone. Let me come to your house at night with
trusted friends, and we will talk more of this.
BRUTUS: As you wish. (There is the sound of cheering
from the race as they both exit, passing by Caesar and Senator Publius from a
distance. Cassius stares at them both with an
unfriendly look.)
CAESAR: So, what did you think of the race, Senator?
PUBLIUS: That Marc Antony is a fine specimen,
Caesar. I like you to have men about
like that who are robust, sleek-headed men who sleep well at night. But Cassius back there has a lean and hungry
look; He thinks too much: Such men are
dangerous!
CAESAR: Would he were fatter, but I fear him
not! (They
both exit and the curtain closes.)
When the curtain opens, we see Roman
interiors: the house of Caesar on the right and that of Brutus on the left. It is night and the
weather is wild and wondrous, with shooting-star effects, a smoke machine, and
thunder sound effects throughout the action taking place in the interior.
NARRATOR: Caesar’s home is over there, on the right;
Brutus’s is on the left. It is night, and
the weather is pretty crazy, suggesting to the Roman mind some momentous
event to come. We will hear nasty
conspirators conspiring against Caesar, and they are desperate to win Brutus to
their cause because he has a well-earned reputation for honor and
integrity. Both Brutus and Caesar will
receive good advice from their loving, concerned wives. But WILL THEY LISTEN? is the question. The
action takes place first at Brutus’s house. (The lights dim on Caesar’s
place.)
BRUTUS: Welcome, Cassius (entering). So tell me: Whom else may I expect?
CASSIUS: Casca for one.
BRUTUS: What a blunt fellow he has turned out to
be! He was of a more gentle disposition
when we went to school together.
CASSIUS
(smoothing over every possible difficulty): Casca’s rudeness is a
sauce to his good wit, which gives men stomach to digest his words with better
appetite.
BRUTUS: What words would he say to me?
CASSIUS
(attempting to manipulate Brutus into
thinking the assassination is his own idea): Only what you have been saying to yourself
about Caesar’s ambition. I see it
written all over your face, Brutus. You
are longing for a permanent solution to the problem, are you not?
BRUTUS
(in the tone of a man wrestling with his
conscience): To speak truth of Caesar,
’tis a common proof that lowliness is young ambition’s ladder, whereto the
climber upward turns his face; but when once he attains the upmost rung, he
then looks in the clouds and scorns the humble steps by which he did ascend. So Caesar may, and therefore I think him as a
serpent’s egg: better killed in the
shell before he can do mischief.
There is a knock at the door. Entering stealthily and looking guilty
already are the rest of the conspirators: Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.
CASSIUS: Brutus, every man here honors you and doth
wish you had but that opinion of yourself which every noble Roman bears of
you. This is Trebonius (nods his head, waves slightly, or shakes
hands—vary this as comfortable with all the introductions).
BRUTUS: He is welcome hither.
CASSIUS: This, Decius.
BRUTUS: He is welcome too.
CASSIUS: This is Casca, of course, and here also are
Cinna and Metellus.
BRUTUS: Gentlemen all, what watchful cares do
interpose themselves between your eyes and night—and on such a perilous night
as this, when blue lightning seems to open the breast of heaven?
CASSIUS
(holding up a black satchel with 7 toy
Roman daggers): To speak frankly, we
all stand up against the spirit of Caesar, and in the spirit there is no blood. Oh, that we could strike a blow at Caesar’s
spirit and not dismember Caesar! But,
alas, Caesar must bleed for it! (Opens the satchel and pulls out a
dagger.) These are easy to conceal
and are effective. Take one as you leave
if you have not your own favored blade. Meet we all at the forum come daybreak to await Caesar’s coming. Casca here has agreed to give us the high
sign and strike the first blow. (Casca nods grimly and they all file out,
leaving Brutus alone.)
BRUTUS
(shakes his head and sighs, wondering how
all this could have developed so fast. Portia, his wife, enters with a concerned look on her face, and Brutus
shakes himself out of his funk in surprise): Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now? It is not
good for your health to commit your weak condition to the raw, cold morning.
PORTIA: Nor for yours either, husband. You suddenly arose in the night and walked
about, musing and sighing, with your arms crossed. When I asked you what the matter was, you
stared upon me with ungentle looks: I
urged you further, and then you scratched your head and impatiently stamped
your foot. I insisted, yet you answered
not, but with an angry wave of your hand gave sign for me to leave; so I did,
fearing to strengthen that impatience which seemed too much enkindled. Dear Brutus, my lord, make me acquainted with
your cause of grief.
BRUTUS: I am not in good health, and that is all.
PORTIA
(easily seeing through this ruse): Brutus is wise and were he not in good
health, he would embrace the means to come by it.
BRUTUS
(trying to get her off the subject): Why, so I do! Let’s go to bed now and I will rest.
PORTIA
(with sweet relentlessness): What, is
Brutus sick, that he will steal out of his wholesome bed to dare the vile
contagion of the night to add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus: you have some sickness within your mind,
which by the right and virtue of my place as your wife I ought to know of. Thus, on my knees (she kneels before him), I seek to charm you with my once-commended
beauty and by all your vows of love which did incorporate and make us one, that
you unfold to me why you are heavy of heart and why came to you six or seven
men, who did hide their faces even from darkness.
BRUTUS: Kneel not, gentle Portia (helps her to her feet): You
are my true and honorable wife, as dear to me as are the ruddy drops that visit
my sad heart.
PORTIA: If this were true, then I should know your
secret. I grant that I am a woman, but a
woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: a
woman well reputed, Cato’s daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my gender, being so father’d and
husbanded? Tell me your counsels; I will
not disclose them—I have made strong proof of my constancy!
BRUTUS
(looking to the heavens): O ye gods, render me worthy of this noble
wife! (Looking to Portia) I will
tell you all after the day unfolds.
The lights dim on Brutus and Portia;
they exit. The lights turn brightly onto Caesar’s house; the thunder and
lightning grow more intense. Caesar
enters.
CAESAR
(observing the wild weather signs, troubled
in mind, speaking loudly to himself): Neither heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight! Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,
“Help, ho! They murder Caesar!”
CALPURNIA
(enters, equally troubled): So, what mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house today!
CAESAR
(vainly trying to soothe her worries by
minimizing them): Caesar shall go
forth: the things that threaten’d me
ne’er looked but on my back. When they
shall see the face of Caesar, they are vanished!
CALPURNIA
(steadily, persuasively, with
conviction): Caesar, I never stood
on ceremonies and signs from heaven, yet now they frighten me.
CAESAR: What end can be avoided that is purposed by
the mighty gods?
CALPURNIA: When beggars die, there are not comets seen. But the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes!
CAESAR: Cowards die many times before their deaths;
the valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange
that men should fear, seeing that death—a necessary end—will come when it will
come.
CALPURNIA: Alas, my lord, your wisdom is consumed in
confidence! Do not go forth today: Call it my fear that keeps you in the house
and not your own.
CAESAR
(warmly): For your sake then, my dear, I will stay at
home.
DECIUS
(entering with a chest to arm salute): Hail, Caesar! I come to fetch you to the senate house.
CAESAR: I will not go out today. Tell the senators for me, Decius.
CALPURNIA
(being uncharacteristically hasty in her
concern): Say he is sick!
CAESAR
(with a mild reprimand): Shall Caesar send a lie? Have I in conquest stretch’d my arm so far to
be afeard to tell greybeards the truth? Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
DECIUS: Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
lest I be laughed at when I tell them so.
CAESAR: The cause is my will: I will not come; that is enough to satisfy
the senate. But for your private
satisfaction and because I love you, I will let you know: Calpurnia dreamt that she saw my statue,
which like a fountain with an hundred spouts did run pure blood, and many
Romans came smiling and did bathe their hands in it. This she does apply for warnings and portents
and evils imminent, and on her knee hath begged that I will stay home today.
DECIUS
(smoothly thinking on his feet): This dream is all
CAESAR
(too quick to accept a positive report without
reflection): Well said! How foolish do your fears seem now,
Calpurnia! I am ashamed I did yield to
them. Give me my cloak, for I will
go. (Calpurnia,
knowing she has been outmaneuvered, hands him his robe and looks sorrowful as
the curtain closes.)
Behind the closed curtain, the interior
sets are removed and the exterior forum again set up. While this takes place, the narrator
gives her line from one end of the stage before the curtain, and Artemidorus
from the other, spotlights on both at first.
NARRATOR: Poor Caesar! He loved and trusted his “friends” (makes air quotes) too much. Not all turned rotten,
though: His friend Artemidorus over
there (waves his hand to the audience
from the other end of the curtain) is very perceptive and observant. Listen to what he has written to Caesar. (Spotlight
goes off the narrator and she exits.)
ARTEMIDORUS
(unrolls a scroll and reads): “Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of
Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark
well Metellus; Decius loves thee not. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against
Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look
about you: security gives way to
conspiracy. The mighty gods defend
thee! Your true friend, Artemidorus.” (After
reading this he quickly rolls back up the scroll and says to the audience, as
if to himself): I will stand in the
forum till Caesar pass along, and I will give him this (holds up the scroll). My
heart laments that virtue cannot live out of the teeth of jealousy at your
success! If thou read this, O Caesar,
thou mayst live; if not, the Fates with traitors do contrive! (Exits and then the curtain opens.)
PORTIA
(looking distressed and standing at one
end of the forum with Lucius, a servant): Boy, run to the senate house. Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone! Why dost thou stay?
LUCIUS (confused): To know my errand, madam.
PORTIA
(confused herself in thought and therefore
speech): I would have had thee there
and back again before I could tell you clearly. O constancy, be strong upon my side! Set a huge mountain ’tween my heart and tongue! I have a man’s mind but a woman’s strength. How hard it is for women to keep
secrets! Art thou here yet, boy?
LUCIUS
(a bit impatiently): Madam, what should I do: Run to the senate, and nothing else? And so return to you, and nothing else?
PORTIA
(composing herself): Bring me word, boy, if thy Lord Brutus
looks well, for he went sickly forth. (Lucius shakes his head affirmatively and runs offstage.)
SOOTHSAYER
(entering near Portia): Good morning, my lady.
PORTIA: Good morning. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
SOOTHSAYER: Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, to see him pass on to
the Capitol.
PORTIA: Have you a request to make of him?
SOOTHSAYER: Yes, I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
PORTIA: Why, knowest thou any harm’s intended toward
him?
SOOTHSAYER
(solemnly): None that I know will be; much that I fear
may be.
Amid crowd sound-effects enters Caesar,
followed by Brutus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Senator
Publius, and Artemidorus. Portia and the soothsayer remain, observing the
scene; Calpurnia enters and stands by Portia.
CAESAR
(seeing the soothsayer and chiding her
gently): The Ides of March are come.
SOOTHSAYER: Aye, Caesar; but not gone.
ARTEMIDORUS: Hail, Caesar! Read this petition at once, please!
DECIUS
(quick to distract Caesar): Metellus here is longing for you to read
his humble petition, Caesar.
ARTEMIDORUS
(desperate): O Caesar, read mine first; for mine’s a
petition that touches Caesar nearer; read it, great Caesar! (Forces it into Caesar’s hand.)
CAESAR
(with sincere humility): What touches us ourself shall be last served. (He
dies later clutching the scroll unread.)
NARRATOR
(everyone freezes): I can’t take this anymore—if poor, noble
Caesar has to die, at least I can use my narrator powers to help make it quick
and painless. (Snaps her fingers.) Get over here, you wicked traitors, and trade
weapons with me—blades are so messy and painful! (They all move front and center, dutifully pulling out their blades and
trading for a plethora of modern toy guns:
a tommy gun for Casca, a light saber for Brutus, and various machine
guns for the rest. In making the trade,
the conspirators look pleased and say things like,“Sweet!”“Now you’re talkin’!”
and “Oh yeah!” but Cassius holds his gun the wrong way. She turns it the right way.) This (pointing)
is the end that goes boom. (Cassius and
the others looks pleased.) Much better! All right now, back about your business. (The narrator exits temporarily.)
METELLUS
(falling to his knees and speaking over
dramatically, gun protruding ridiculously from his belt): Most high, most mighty and exalted Caesar, your humble servant
Metellus presents to you a humble heart…
CAESAR
(interrupting, embarrassed by the melodrama): Get you up, Metellus! (He rises and hangs his head in shame.) These couchings and lowly courtesies might
fire the blood of ordinary men and melteth fools, but if you are by this hoping
for me to allow your banished brother to return to Rome, you are sadly mistaken
because he is a proved and twice-proved traitor!
TREBONIUS: Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon!
CAESAR
(with stern and noble resolve, Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” playing as moving background music): I
could be well moved, if I were as you.
If
I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
But
I am constant as the northern star.
Of
whose true fixed and resting quality there is no other in the firmament.
The
skies are painted with unnumbered sparks;
Yet
there is but one in all that doth hold his place.
So
it is in the world of men: men are flesh
and blood and apprehensive,
Yet
in the number I know but one whose duty it is to be unassailable,
Unshaked
of motion, and that I am he.
Let
me a little show of it, even in this:
That
I was constant in justice, and the banished remain banished!
CINNA: O Caesar …
DECIUS: Great Caesar …
CASCA: Show me your weapons, men! (Brandishes
his tommy gun and shoots Caesar first, followed by the other conspirators, with
Brutus doing a Yoda-like pivot leap with his light saber for the final blow. Chicago gangland rat-a-tat and laser sound
effects throughout, until Caesar speaks.)
CAESAR
(with pain and shock more internal than
external): Et tu, Bruté—even you? (Losing
the will to live) Then die, Caesar! (Slumps
to the ground and dies lying on his back—that becomes important later.)
CALPURNIA
(wailing): Help, ho! They murder Caesar! (She kneels by him.)
CINNA
(seeking to drown out her lament): Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run hence and proclaim
it in the streets!
BRUTUS
(noticing everyone but the conspirators
looks horrified): People and
senators, be not affrighted: Fly not and
stand still, for ambition’s debt is paid.
CASSIUS
(gloating): How many ages hence shall this, our lofty
scene, be acted over in states unborn and accents yet unknown! So often shall the knot of us be called the
men who gave their country liberty!
NARRATOR
(walking to center front stage to address
the audience): Dream on,
Cassius: 1,300 years later, a poet from here named Dante will assign you and Brutus to the lowest pit in hell, alongside Judas
Iscariot, for treachery to your noble masters! (Engaging the audience) Would you like to know what happened after
Caesar’s assassination? Wily Marc Antony
pretended to be friends with the conspirators at first, but when alone with
Caesar’s body (everyone moves to one side
of the stage or the other while the narrator stands by Caesar), Antony addressed Caesar thus: O pardon me, thou
bleeding piece of earth, that I am meek and gentle with these butchers! Thou art the ruins of the noblest man who
ever lived in the tide of times. (Speaking now with a loud, outraged voice) Woe
to the hands that shed this costly blood! Caesar’s spirit rages for revenge; lo, he comes with Ate (pronounced Ah-tay), the goddess of doom
and destruction, hot from hell, saying… (she
points toward Caesar and is careful not to block his booming voice)
CAESAR
(lifting his head slightly, eyes ablaze toward the
audience and shouting from the ground loudly and clearly his
famous battle cry): Cry “Havoc” and let slip the dogs of war! (He remains still for the rest of the play.)
NARRATOR
(jumps back, looking unnerved): Whoa, that was kinda creepy! The conspirators
tried to smooth over their crime by using Brutus, who declared at Caesar’s
funeral…
BRUTUS: If there be any in this assembly who demands
to know why I rose against Caesar, this is my answer: not that I loved Caesar less, but that I
loved Rome
NARRATOR
(holding a Bible): That nearly won over the crowd until Marc
Antony rose to speak, saying, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your
ears: the noble Brutus hath told you
Caesar was ambitious; if it were so, it was a grievous fault, and grievously
hath Caesar answered it. Caesar was my
friend, faithful and just to me. Brutus,
as you know, was Caesar’s angel: judge,
O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the unkindest cut of all, for when the noble Caesar saw him
stab, shoot—whatever!—ingratitude, more strong than weapons, quite vanquished
him; then burst his mighty heart!” Well,
after that speech, the conspirators had to get out of town FAST to avoid the
angry mob! (They flee into the aisle through the audience while the
good characters raise their fists in anger, chasing them. When things quiet
down, the Narrator resumes.)
Childless
Caesar’s able nephew and heir, Octavian, quickly finished them off and took on a new
title as leader of Rome Bethlehem
Curtain closes while all the cast of Julius Caesar lines
up in costume for a bow when the curtain opens with Roman movie soundtrack
music.
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