If ’tis done..

A Plagiarized Play

Scene: a stormy night in the Capital cloakroom, lightning, wind, and rain. Enter Senators Cassius (R-Puglia) and Casca (R-Verona).

Sen Cassius:
Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
Most like this dreadful night,
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol;
A man no mightier than thyself or me
In personal action, yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

Sen. Casca:
’Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?

Sen. Cassius:
Let it be who it is. For Romans now
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors.
But, woe the while, our fathers’ minds are dead,
And we are governed with our mothers’ spirits.
Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

Sen. Casca:
Indeed, they say the Senators tomorrow
Mean to establish Caesar as a king,
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land
In every place save here in Italy.

Sen. Cassius:
I know where I will wear this dagger then;
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.
Therein, you gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, you gods, you tyrants do defeat.

And why should Caesar be a tyrant, then?
Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep;
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar!

Sen. Casca:
You speak to Casca, and to such a man
That is no fleering telltale. Hold. My hand.
[They shake hands.]
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far
As who goes farthest.

Sen. Cassius:
There’s a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have moved already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honorable-dangerous consequence.

Enter Senator Macbeth (R-Scotland) and his wife, along with Sen. Hamlet (R-Denmark)

Sen. Macbeth:
If it were done, when ’tis done,
Then ’twere well It were done quickly.

Sen. Macbeth’s wife:
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…

Sen. Hamlet:
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action.

Enter Senator Humphrey (R-Buckinghamshire)

Sen. Cassius:
[Aside ] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.

Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?

Sen. Humphrey:
A messenger from the King, our dread liege,
To know the reason of these arms in peace;
Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
Should raise so great a power without his leave,
Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.

Sen Cassius:
[Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great:
O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
I am so angry at these abject terms…

Enter The King.

The King:
[Aside]
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men and such as sleep a-nights.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.

[To the others]
O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
If it be banish’d from the frosty head,
Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourable age with blood?

Enter Sen. Brutus (R-Rubicon)

The King:
The ides of March are come.

Brutus:
Ay, Caesar; but not gone.

The King:
Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar!

Cassius:
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

Lady Macbeth:
Out, damned spot! out, I say!
One: two: why, then, ’tis time to do’t.
–Hell is murky!–Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard?
What need we fear who knows it,
When none can call our power to account?
Yet who would have thought the old man
To have had so much blood in him.

Sen. Hamlet:
The play’s the thing
To catch the conscience of the king.

Enter Robin Goodfellow.

Robin Goodfellow:
Lord, what fools these mortals be!

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Words by William Shakespeare (D-Stratford-upon-Avon) from
Julius Caesar, Henry VI, Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Hamlet

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