This is my revised version. It's much shorter. I also gave a shot at Iambic Pentameter and Elizabethean Language (cough, epic fail, cough). If you can't understand a word, my previous entry has the same story outline in a modern, narrative form. It's also much longer.
Here goes..
William:
Today we have a guest who wishes to
agnize us on the power of Caesar.
Cassius--
Cassius:
Good morrow, William.
William:
--believes that we should not be loyal to
Caesar, the humble, kind leader we know
he is. Would this be correct, Cassius?
Cassius:
Indeed, William. My brothers and I
think that Caesar is not, as you so say,
‘humble’, nor ‘kind’. In fact, we believe the
opposite. Caesar says, ‘Let there be men
among me who are fat’. Caesar rejects
the crown from Mark Antonius, a dear
friend of his, but not without a look of
hunger in his eyes. Caesar is cursed with
the falling sickness, and with one ear deaf.
Caesar is weak, yet thou feed him power.
Caesar is weak, yet thou consider a
crown on his head, great power in his hands.
William:
Caesar is weak, so you say, but we do
not think the same way as you do, we know
Caesar will rule Rome well, even better
than it’s previous leaders, hence Pompey.
Cassius:
Rome cannot stay loyal to one leader!
Though if thou choose an unfit man to lead,
thy lack of loyalty is understood.
William:
What makes you think that Caesar is not fit?
Cassius:
If you have not yet been convinced by my
previous reasons, thou consider this:
Th’look of hunger in his eyes will only
worsen over time. The people who had
assisted him to his position will
be quickly forgotten. He will become
a power-hungry tyrant, surely a
man you would not choose to rule all of Rome.
William:
Although this may be true, you have no proof.
Cassius:
Cassius knows there are better men to rule.
Taking a chance on Caesar is too much
of a risk. Putting power in his hands
would be a mistake.
William:
Caesar is kind to us and he would not
do the things that you believe he will do.
Cassius:
Was Caesar kind to the poor soothsayer?
No, Caesar was not. Although he had news
that could have been helpful to him! But no,
Caesar only believeth in himself. Kind!
The thought almost wants to maketh me laugh.
William:
That’s all the time we have for today, I
thanketh you for listening. This has been
William and Cassius.
[to Cassius]
Your words have convinced me, what should we do?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
I am doing the assignment Adio Reh Assius Ceh, or just "Radio Cassius".
This assignment is going to be in narrative format. I posted this early, so if the requirements wanted something other than the way this is written, please let me know and I'll rewrite it.
Alright, here goes.
But fourty thousand listeners?
I can't believe that I'm getting nervous about this, of all times. Not when Kurt Allius, the host, asked him to actually be on the show. Not when he mentioned it would have a special broadcast across Rome. No, I have to go and get nervous ten minutes before the broadcast.
Calm, Cassius, calm. You can do this. Breathe... inhale... exhale...
I walk through the archway and try to control my insides from exploding. I see the paintings on the wall. I count them and recognize them as I walk by. Juno. Pompey. Inhale. Exhale.
I'm getting closer to the double doors, which are very big to keep the sound trapped inside. So no-one can hear you scream. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
I finally get to the door. Inhale, exhale. I try to distract myself by reading the signs.
Haud Traspassing.
No Sessio.
Non Disturb.
Silence.
Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhale!!!
Through the door I can hear Kurt wrapping up the weather report. "Next up, we have Cassius, who claims to believe that Caesar is dangerous, talk about his political views. Stay tuned... here's Bach's latest hit!"
As the piano player begins to play 'Prelude in C', I stand frozen, wondering what I'm supposed to do. I approach the door caustiously, watching my step. I press my hand up against it, worried that I might disturb the station in any way. Right as I'm about to push open the door, Kurt whips it open.
I trip and fall directly onto the floor, and the piano player hits a B# instead of a flat. He pretends not to notice. Kurt helps me up silently, a tired look on his face, and he brings me over to the table with cones attatched to strings. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit down, shaking.
He pulls another door shut, blocking the piano from the table that I'm sitting at.
"Okay. You know how this works?"
I shale my head. "No," I manage to spit out.
"Well, you pick up the cone like this," He demonstrates, "And talk into the small end. The string leads out to other cones around the country."
"And it works?"
"It has for many years." Kurt takes a seat and swivells around the table, picking up a headset. "This allows you to hear what the other cones are getting. So if there's a break in the string, we know, and we'll hold the interviews until after it's repaired. Keep these on the whole time." He forces a pair over my head, and I smooth out my hair, trying to make it more comfrotable. "You nervous?"
"No!" I choke. "Not at all."
"You should be. Hundred thousand people listening today."
"H-Hundred thousand?" I drop the cone I was examining. "You said fourty when we were meeting!!"
"I had a feeling you'd back out." He shrugged. "I just stretched the truth."
"By sixty thousand people!!"
"The song's almost over. You ready, Mister Anti-Caesar?" He mutters in a mocking voice.
"I know more than you do." I say defensively, feeling a slight bit of regret.
"You think you're such a big shot. You have to get instructions from a 'commoner' on how to use a cone with strings." He stretches out his chair and reaches for his cone. "And we're back! It is 8:45 AM and it looks like we're going to have a great day today. Caesar is in rule, the streets are celebrating, but... oh..." Kurt raises an eyebrow. "There's someone who doesn't think so." A pause. "Isn't that right, Cassius?"
Great. He hates me. Him and the rest of the world, by the time I'm done.
"That's right, Kurt." I say, suddenly feeling more confident now that I have an enemy; someone to debate with. "I don't think that Caesar should have control over Rome."
He spreads an amused look over his face. He stares me right in the eye, and I see a flash of anger, a flash of hate. I know he doesn't like me. If I were him, I wouldn't like me, either. A commoner. Of course he hates me. "Why?" He spits, no tone in his voice.
"When we celebrated Pompey, it was just the same. Does anybody know what actually happened to Pompey?" I pause, looking down at the cone. "Does anybody care?" I look up at Kurt, who was a curious look on his face, as if he doesnt know whether to cut my string or prompt me to say more. "Caesar killed him, that's what happened to Pompey."
"Some would say that Caesar was a greater leader than Pompey could ever be."
"That's not the point. You can't stay loyal to one leader. What does that say about Rome?"
"We aren't talking about Rome."
"Right." I cough, trying to forget about the hundred thousand people listening. And, now? My mind is completely blank. I look at Kurt. Prompt me. Prompt me.
"What makes Caesar so dangerous, as you so put it? He seems humble enough, kind, unlike the senators..."
"Humble? Kind? You saw Caesar reject the crown, I'm guessing?"
"I did."
"So perhaps you saw the hunger inside of him, reaching out for that crown, reaching out for that power?" I move the cone around in my hands, half forgetting that I'm on the radio.
"Even if I did, which I won't admit to, he rejected the crown. That's the big picture."
"For now." I pause, looking out into space. "Just wait until the stakes get higher. Until Rome declares him King. If anybody had the slightest thought that he might be power-hungry now, you wait." I shake my head, closing my eyes. "You wait."
There's more silence. Longer this time.
"The soothsayer. He came to tell him to beware March fifteenth. Did he listen?" Kurt doesn't answer. "He did not." I answer my own question, leaning back in my chair, slightly disappointed that he won't admit his own defeat. "Yet, he told Antony moments before that if he touched Calpurnia in the race, she would be able to bear children. Do you have any idea on how ridiculous that sounds? Not only the concept, but the fact he believes one set of nonsense and not another! Something that might have been able to help him! Ignoring the 'dreamers' and caring for those who bring him good news? Kind!" I finish, looking down, wondering if I've said the right things. "The thought makes me laugh." Kurt is silent. "Caesar is alright now. Humble, maybe. Kind, there's a possibility. But the more power you Romans feed him, the more chance those characteristics will disappear completely. Even evolve into their opposites. A power hungry, self-absorbed man of poor character leading Rome?"
"Surely this theory would apply to all men."
"If you saw the look in his eyes the day he rejected the crown, you would know that isn't true." I say it with confidence, as though I were actually there myself. Of course I wasn't, but that isn't going to help the debate very much.
There's a moment where we both looked at eachother and completely forget about the hundred thousand people listening. It's just me, and this radio host. I need to convince him. It's become the most important thing in the world.
Our eyes still locked, he picks up his cone. "That's all the time we have today. We'll be back with play reviews after Wagner's latest." And he stands up and walks over to the doors, holding them open for me.
I'm stuck... I can't believe I was just cut off. I try to recollect my thoughts and all of the things I said. I needed to make sure I got the right message out. As I was passing through the huge doors, Kurt's hand landed on my shoulder.
And he leans in, quietly, so the cones won't pick it up, and his voice is as shaken as I feel. He whispers:
"What do we need to do?"
This assignment is going to be in narrative format. I posted this early, so if the requirements wanted something other than the way this is written, please let me know and I'll rewrite it.
Alright, here goes.
Adio Reh Assius Ceh
I swallow as I look up at the radio station's huge sign, it's torches lighting up the street. I pull up my hood and shiver, even though it isn't cold. I try to think about the reason I needed to do this, how it's for the greater good.
But fourty thousand listeners?
I can't believe that I'm getting nervous about this, of all times. Not when Kurt Allius, the host, asked him to actually be on the show. Not when he mentioned it would have a special broadcast across Rome. No, I have to go and get nervous ten minutes before the broadcast.
Calm, Cassius, calm. You can do this. Breathe... inhale... exhale...
I walk through the archway and try to control my insides from exploding. I see the paintings on the wall. I count them and recognize them as I walk by. Juno. Pompey. Inhale. Exhale.
I'm getting closer to the double doors, which are very big to keep the sound trapped inside. So no-one can hear you scream. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
I finally get to the door. Inhale, exhale. I try to distract myself by reading the signs.
Haud Traspassing.
No Sessio.
Non Disturb.
Silence.
Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhale!!!
Through the door I can hear Kurt wrapping up the weather report. "Next up, we have Cassius, who claims to believe that Caesar is dangerous, talk about his political views. Stay tuned... here's Bach's latest hit!"
As the piano player begins to play 'Prelude in C', I stand frozen, wondering what I'm supposed to do. I approach the door caustiously, watching my step. I press my hand up against it, worried that I might disturb the station in any way. Right as I'm about to push open the door, Kurt whips it open.
I trip and fall directly onto the floor, and the piano player hits a B# instead of a flat. He pretends not to notice. Kurt helps me up silently, a tired look on his face, and he brings me over to the table with cones attatched to strings. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit down, shaking.
He pulls another door shut, blocking the piano from the table that I'm sitting at.
"Okay. You know how this works?"
I shale my head. "No," I manage to spit out.
"Well, you pick up the cone like this," He demonstrates, "And talk into the small end. The string leads out to other cones around the country."
"And it works?"
"It has for many years." Kurt takes a seat and swivells around the table, picking up a headset. "This allows you to hear what the other cones are getting. So if there's a break in the string, we know, and we'll hold the interviews until after it's repaired. Keep these on the whole time." He forces a pair over my head, and I smooth out my hair, trying to make it more comfrotable. "You nervous?"
"No!" I choke. "Not at all."
"You should be. Hundred thousand people listening today."
"H-Hundred thousand?" I drop the cone I was examining. "You said fourty when we were meeting!!"
"I had a feeling you'd back out." He shrugged. "I just stretched the truth."
"By sixty thousand people!!"
"The song's almost over. You ready, Mister Anti-Caesar?" He mutters in a mocking voice.
"I know more than you do." I say defensively, feeling a slight bit of regret.
"You think you're such a big shot. You have to get instructions from a 'commoner' on how to use a cone with strings." He stretches out his chair and reaches for his cone. "And we're back! It is 8:45 AM and it looks like we're going to have a great day today. Caesar is in rule, the streets are celebrating, but... oh..." Kurt raises an eyebrow. "There's someone who doesn't think so." A pause. "Isn't that right, Cassius?"
Great. He hates me. Him and the rest of the world, by the time I'm done.
"That's right, Kurt." I say, suddenly feeling more confident now that I have an enemy; someone to debate with. "I don't think that Caesar should have control over Rome."
He spreads an amused look over his face. He stares me right in the eye, and I see a flash of anger, a flash of hate. I know he doesn't like me. If I were him, I wouldn't like me, either. A commoner. Of course he hates me. "Why?" He spits, no tone in his voice.
"When we celebrated Pompey, it was just the same. Does anybody know what actually happened to Pompey?" I pause, looking down at the cone. "Does anybody care?" I look up at Kurt, who was a curious look on his face, as if he doesnt know whether to cut my string or prompt me to say more. "Caesar killed him, that's what happened to Pompey."
"Some would say that Caesar was a greater leader than Pompey could ever be."
"That's not the point. You can't stay loyal to one leader. What does that say about Rome?"
"We aren't talking about Rome."
"Right." I cough, trying to forget about the hundred thousand people listening. And, now? My mind is completely blank. I look at Kurt. Prompt me. Prompt me.
"What makes Caesar so dangerous, as you so put it? He seems humble enough, kind, unlike the senators..."
"Humble? Kind? You saw Caesar reject the crown, I'm guessing?"
"I did."
"So perhaps you saw the hunger inside of him, reaching out for that crown, reaching out for that power?" I move the cone around in my hands, half forgetting that I'm on the radio.
"Even if I did, which I won't admit to, he rejected the crown. That's the big picture."
"For now." I pause, looking out into space. "Just wait until the stakes get higher. Until Rome declares him King. If anybody had the slightest thought that he might be power-hungry now, you wait." I shake my head, closing my eyes. "You wait."
There's more silence. Longer this time.
"The soothsayer. He came to tell him to beware March fifteenth. Did he listen?" Kurt doesn't answer. "He did not." I answer my own question, leaning back in my chair, slightly disappointed that he won't admit his own defeat. "Yet, he told Antony moments before that if he touched Calpurnia in the race, she would be able to bear children. Do you have any idea on how ridiculous that sounds? Not only the concept, but the fact he believes one set of nonsense and not another! Something that might have been able to help him! Ignoring the 'dreamers' and caring for those who bring him good news? Kind!" I finish, looking down, wondering if I've said the right things. "The thought makes me laugh." Kurt is silent. "Caesar is alright now. Humble, maybe. Kind, there's a possibility. But the more power you Romans feed him, the more chance those characteristics will disappear completely. Even evolve into their opposites. A power hungry, self-absorbed man of poor character leading Rome?"
"Surely this theory would apply to all men."
"If you saw the look in his eyes the day he rejected the crown, you would know that isn't true." I say it with confidence, as though I were actually there myself. Of course I wasn't, but that isn't going to help the debate very much.
There's a moment where we both looked at eachother and completely forget about the hundred thousand people listening. It's just me, and this radio host. I need to convince him. It's become the most important thing in the world.
Our eyes still locked, he picks up his cone. "That's all the time we have today. We'll be back with play reviews after Wagner's latest." And he stands up and walks over to the doors, holding them open for me.
I'm stuck... I can't believe I was just cut off. I try to recollect my thoughts and all of the things I said. I needed to make sure I got the right message out. As I was passing through the huge doors, Kurt's hand landed on my shoulder.
And he leans in, quietly, so the cones won't pick it up, and his voice is as shaken as I feel. He whispers:
"What do we need to do?"
FIN
I suppose some writer's notes are required..
Kurt Allius's first name is after Kurt Cobain (respectively). Allius is the most Roman-y surname I could think of.
The signs are 'No Traspassing, No Loitering, Do Not Disturb and Silence'. I used a Latin translator off of Google, but I don't know how accurate it is.
Bach and Wagner are also mentioned. I don't know what time period they're from (they're timeless to me), but they're the oldest music I listen to, so I decided to throw them in as well.
Juno is apparently a greek goddess who was really pretty, but really mean. I learned that off of the movie 'Juno' (with Ellen Page), and I threw her in as well.
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