![]() Who else would soar above the view of menįlourish. These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing So do you too, where you perceive them thick. ![]() I'll about,Īnd drive away the vulgar from the streets: If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.īe hung with Caesar's trophies. Go you down that way towards the Capitol They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. That needs must light on this ingratitude.įLAVIUS Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,ĭraw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tearsĮxeunt all the Commoners See whether their basest metal be not moved Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: The livelong day, with patient expectation, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat ![]() To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? MARULLUS Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? To see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. ![]() Second Commoner Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? Neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.įLAVIUS But wherefore art not in thy shop today? To old shoes when they are in great danger, I Meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's Second Commoner Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I MARULLUS What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! Second Commoner Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, MARULLUS What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? Second Commoner A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safeĬonscience which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. MARULLUS But what trade art thou? answer me directly. Second Commoner Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, MARULLUS Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? Once the statue is carried off stage, it’s unclear who or what marks the central force of this unintimidating production.Īt Shakespeare’s Globe, London, and touring, until 10 September.Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners FLAVIUS Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: At the start of the show, a marble statue of Caesar stands grandly in the centre of the action, felled at the same time as its likeness’s flesh is stabbed. But rather than feeling the electric danger of an angry, unruled country, the larger scenes often seem loose and scattered. If this is a commentary on women in power, it has little obvious effect other than a change in pronouns, but both performers hold the stage as they grapple with their own intentions.Īfter a topless start that paints Mark Antony as being on a perpetual stag do, Samuel Oatley cements his character in a powerful performance at Caesar’s funeral, ruffling the public’s spirits to mutiny. Anna Crichlow is noble to a fault as Brutus, her utter belief in her plan almost making her naive, particularly in the face of Mark Antony’s controlled passion in front of the crowd. Charlotte Bate is our determined, manipulative Cassius, her confident swagger later dissolving as the luck of the civil war changes sides. The brief encounters between Caesar (Dickon Tyrrell) and those who rise up against him are sped through, making it difficult to comprehend the strength of their relationships, and the impact of their conspiracy.įighting for freedom, Brutus and Cassius are played both by and as women. Without a sense of genuine peril, their final fights seem flimsy, and their ultimate actions often selfish. In this modern-dress production, with clean pale suits begging for blood splatters, the well-spoken battle for power rarely broadens out beyond the characters’ concerns with their own morality. To the audience, it just feels like a bit of a laugh. The cast of eight unravel this world of ancient Rome with gusto, but it hardly feels like the future of the republic depends on these decisions, or as if the person in charge could make or break the country. The effect of this is funny, but never frightening. A willing crowd, we’ll repeat whatever is chanted to us, happy to swap sides if we feel it will please the performers. T he Globe’s audience serve as the easily swayed mob in Diane Page’s production of Shakespeare’s story of stolen power.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |