![\"death_of_caesar.GIF\"](\"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/death_of_caesar.GIF\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\nIt’s the Ides of March. So watch your back.<\/p>\n
Here\u2019s the moment in Shakespeare\u2019s play where Caesar gets the warning from the soothsayer. And ignores it. Because wouldn\u2019t we all ignore a warning from a random-crazy-person in the street? Especially if we live in an urban environment and have to deal with a lot of people in our everyday lives? I can’t be giving credence to everything some wild-eyed homeless person shouts at me as I approach the turnstiles at the 59th Street Station. I HAVE to ignore it. Otherwise I couldn’t survive here. So I don’t blame Caesar for not being like, “OhmyGod, soothsayer, tell me more.”<\/p>\n
It is also hard to listen to anything ANYONE says when you are being bombarded by \u201cflourishes\u201d. <\/p>\n
Seriously. Stop with the constant “flourishes”. GIVE ME A MOMENT TO THINK.<\/p>\n
\nSCENE II. A public place<\/b><\/p>\n
Flourish<\/em>.<\/p>\n Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a SOOTHSAYER<\/p>\n CAESAR CASCA CAESAR CALPURNIA CAESAR ANTONY CAESAR ANTONY CAESAR Flourish<\/i><\/p>\n SOOTHSAYER CAESAR CASCA CAESAR SOOTHSAYER CAESAR BRUTUS CAESAR CASSIUS CAESAR SOOTHSAYER CAESAR \n \nA psychic told me in 1998 that I would meet my future husband the next year, and he would be blonde. The bitch lied. Although I did date someone that year who happened to be blonde, but it ended … not poorly … but weirdly. In fact, I refer to him as Jackass McGee<\/a>. So Caesar writing The Soothsayer off as a nutbar is understandable. <\/p>\n The conspiracy scene is one of my favorites in the play. Act II Scene 1. It’s chilling, the casualness of it, the resolve.<\/p>\n The conspirators go to visit Brutus at his house, and they stand in the orchard, and decide to do the deed on the morrow.<\/p>\n Here’s a fun exercise: read it out loud and notice how often Shakespeare uses the letter “s” in the scene, or an “s” sound. There’s an “s” sound in almost every sentence. So when you hear the language, just the sound<\/i> of it, never mind what it is that they’re actually saying, it sounds like a bunch of snakes hissing. It SOUNDS like gossip. “S” is a sound that carries. If people are whispering over the water cooler about the layoffs coming down, they’re pretty safe with not being overheard when they say vowel sounds like “o” or “e” – those sounds don’t carry – but an “S” will ricochet across an office as though there is a megaphone attached to it. “S” is how we imitate gossipy whispers, if you think about it (“so they were over there whispering, like, “psssst pssst pssst pssst”). That’s the effect that Shakespeare has achieved in the sounds in this scene. The theme of the scene is in the language itself. Ssssssssss gives an impression of a crowd of men whispering “psst”, the hissing ‘psst” whisper of conspiracy. <\/p>\n \nRe-enter LUCIUS.<\/p>\n LUCIUS. BRUTUS. LUCIUS. BRUTUS. Do you know them?<\/p>\n LUCIUS. BRUTUS. Let ’em enter.<\/p>\n [Exit LUCIUS.<\/p>\n They are the faction. O conspiracy! Enter the Conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, CASSIUS. BRUTUS. CASSIUS. BRUTUS. CASSIUS. BRUTUS. He is welcome too.<\/p>\n CASSIUS. BRUTUS. CASSIUS. [BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper.<\/p>\n DECIUS. CASCA. CINNA. CASCA. BRUTUS. CASSIUS. \nAnd so, in honor of the Ides of March, here’s the “moment before” – the poor ignored SOOTHSAYER comes back into the picture:<\/p>\n \nAct II, scene iv.<\/b> The sense of foreboding grows. Portia can feel the wrongness in the air.<\/p>\n PORTIA SOOTHSAYER PORTIA SOOTHSAYER PORTIA SOOTHSAYER PORTIA SOOTHSAYER PORTIA SOOTHSAYER Exit<\/i><\/p>\n PORTIA \n It’s the Ides of March. So watch your back. Here\u2019s the moment in Shakespeare\u2019s play where Caesar gets the warning from the soothsayer. And ignores it. Because wouldn\u2019t we all ignore a warning from a random-crazy-person in the street? Especially … Continue reading
\nCalpurnia!<\/p>\n
\nPeace, ho! Caesar speaks.<\/p>\n
\nCalpurnia!<\/p>\n
\nHere, my lord.<\/p>\n
\nStand you directly in Antonius’ way,
\nWhen he doth run his course. Antonius!<\/p>\n
\nCaesar, my lord?<\/p>\n
\nForget not, in your speed, Antonius,
\nTo touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,
\nThe barren, touched in this holy chase,
\nShake off their sterile curse.<\/p>\n
\nI shall remember:
\nWhen Caesar says ‘do this,’ it is perform’d.<\/p>\n
\nSet on; and leave no ceremony out.<\/p>\n
\nCaesar!<\/p>\n
\nHa! who calls?<\/p>\n
\nBid every noise be still: peace yet again!<\/p>\n
\nWho is it in the press that calls on me?
\nI hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
\nCry ‘Caesar!’ Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear.<\/p>\n
\nBeware the ides of March.<\/p>\n
\nWhat man is that?<\/p>\n
\nA soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.<\/p>\n
\nSet him before me; let me see his face.<\/p>\n
\nFellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.<\/p>\n
\nWhat say’st thou to me now? speak once again.<\/p>\n
\nBeware the ides of March.<\/p>\n
\nHe is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/03\/caesar_brutus1.jpg\" "\\"caesar_brutus\\"")
<\/a><\/p>\n
\nSir, ’tis your brother Cassius at the
\ndoor,
\nWho doth desire to see you.<\/p>\n
\nIs he alone?<\/p>\n
\nNo, sir, there are more with him.<\/p>\n
\nNo, sir; their hats are pluck’d about
\ntheir ears,
\nAnd half their faces buried in their cloaks,
\nThat by no means I may discover them
\nBy any mark of favour.<\/p>\n
\nSham’st thou to show thy dangerous brow by
\nnight,
\nWhen evils are most free? O! then by day
\nWhere wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
\nTo mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, con-
\nspiracy;
\nHide it in smiles and affability:
\nFor if thou path, thy native semblance on,
\nNot Erebus itself were dim enough
\nTo hide thee from prevention.<\/p>\n
\nDECIUS,CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER,
\nand TREBONIUS.<\/p>\n
\nI think we are too bold upon your rest:
\nGood morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?<\/p>\n
\nI have been up this hour, awake all
\nnight.
\nKnow I these men that come along with you?<\/p>\n
\nYes, every man of them; and no man
\nhere
\nBut honours you; and every one doth wish
\nYou had but that opinion of yourself
\nWhich every noble Roman bears of you.
\nThis is Trebonius.<\/p>\n
\nHe is welcome hither.<\/p>\n
\nThis, Decius Brutus.<\/p>\n
\nThis, Casca; this, Cinna;
\nAnd this, Metellus Cimber.<\/p>\n
\nThey are all welcome.
\nWhat watchful cares do interpose themselves
\nBetwixt your eyes and night?<\/p>\n
\nShall I entreat a word?<\/p>\n
\nHere lies the east: doth not the day
\nbreak here?<\/p>\n
\nNo.<\/p>\n
\nO! pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey
\nlines
\nThat fret the clouds are messengers of day.<\/p>\n
\nYou shall confess that you are both
\ndeceiv’d.
\nHere, as I point my sword, the sun arises;
\nWhich is a great way growing on the south,
\nWeighing the youthful season of the year.
\nSome two months hence up higher toward the
\nnorth
\nHe first presents his fire; and the high east
\nStands, as the Capitol, directly here.<\/p>\n
\nGive me your hands all over, one by
\none.<\/p>\n
\nAnd let us swear our resolution.<\/p>\n
\nCome hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?<\/p>\n
\nAt mine own house, good lady.<\/p>\n
\nWhat is’t o’clock?<\/p>\n
\nAbout the ninth hour, lady.<\/p>\n
\nIs Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?<\/p>\n
\nMadam, not yet: I go to take my stand,
\nTo see him pass on to the Capitol.<\/p>\n
\nThou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?<\/p>\n
\nThat I have, lady: if it will please Caesar
\nTo be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
\nI shall beseech him to befriend himself.<\/p>\n
\nWhy, know’st thou any harm’s intended towards him?<\/p>\n
\nNone that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.
\nGood morrow to you. Here the street is narrow:
\nThe throng that follows Caesar at the heels,
\nOf senators, of praetors, common suitors,
\nWill crowd a feeble man almost to death:
\nI’ll get me to a place more void, and there
\nSpeak to great Caesar as he comes along.<\/p>\n
\nI must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing
\nThe heart of woman is! O Brutus,
\nThe heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!
\nSure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit
\nThat Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint.
\nRun, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
\nSay I am merry: come to me again,
\nAnd bring me word what he doth say to thee.<\/p>\n![\"VincenzoCamuccini-The-Ides-of-March-1800.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/VincenzoCamuccini-The-Ides-of-March-1800.jpg\")
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"