|Julius Caesar DKC Style Act III
Author: Hamato Talia PM
Act three of DKC Julius Caesar.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Parody - Chapters: 3 - Words: 5,387 - Published: 06-27-12 - id: 8261435
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Octavius-Swanky (relation changed-in this "Caesar" is "Octavius's" older brother)
Lepidus-K. rool (seriously, don't ask)
Act III, Scene I
A crowd of people enters, among them Klump and Inka-Dinka-Doo. A trumpet plays. DK, Diddy, Wrinkly, Lanky, Chunky, KAOS, Cthulu, Red Kremling, Funky, K. Rool, Krusha, K. Lumsy, and others enter.
DK: (to the Inka-Dinka-Doo) The Ides of March are come.
Inka-Dinka-Doo: Ay, DK, but not gone.
Klump: (offering his letter) Hail, DK! Read this schedule.
Chunky: (offering DK another paper)
Cthulu doth desire you to o'er-read,
At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
Klump: O DK, read mine first, for mine's a suit
That touches DK nearer. Read it, great DK.
DK: What touches us ourself shall be last served.
Klump: Delay not, DK. Read it instantly.
DK: What, is the fellow mad?
K. Lumsy: (to Klump) Sirrah, give place.
Wrinkly: (to Klump)
What, urge you your petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitol.
DK goes up to the senate house, the rest following.
Krusha: (to Wrinkly) I wish your enterprise today may thrive.
Wrinkly: What enterprise, Krusha?
Krusha: Fare you well.
Krusha approaches DK.
Diddy: (to Wrinkly) What said Krusha?
Wrinkly: (aside to Diddy)
He wished today our enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose is discoverèd.
Diddy: Look how he makes to DK. Mark him.
Wrinkly: Lanky, be sudden, for we fear prevention
—Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
Wrinkly or DK never shall turn back,
For I will slay myself.
Diddy: Wrinkly, be constant.
Krusha speaks not of our purposes.
For, look, he smiles, and DK doth not change.
Wrinkly: Cthulu knows his time. For, look you, Diddy.
He draws Funky out of the way.
Cthulu and Funky exit.
Chunky: Where is KAOS? Let him go
And presently prefer his suit to DK.
Diddy: He is addressed. Press near and second him.
Red Kremling: Lanky, you are the first that rears your hand.
DK: Are we all ready? What is now amiss
That DK and his senate must redress?
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant DK,
KAOS throws before thy seat
An humble heart—
DK: I must prevent thee, KAOS.
These couchings and these lowly courtesies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men
And turn preordinance and first decree
Into the law of children. Be not fond,
To think that DK bears such rebel blood
That will be thawed from the true quality
With that which melteth fools—I mean, sweet words,
Low-crookèd curtsies, and base spaniel fawning.
Thy brother by decree is banishèd.
If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
Know, DK doth not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied.
KAOS: Is there no voice more worthy than my own
To sound more sweetly in great DK's ear
For the repealing of my banished brother?
Diddy: (kneeling) I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, DK,
Desiring thee that KAOS' brother may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
DK: What, Diddy?
Wrinkly: (kneeling) Pardon, DK. DK, pardon.
As low as to thy foot doth Wrinkly fall
To beg enfranchisement for KAOS' brother.
DK: 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 fellow in the firmament.
The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks.
They are all fire and every one doth shine,
But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So in the world. 'Tis furnished well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive,
Yet in the number I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshaked of motion. And that I am he
Let me a little show it even in this:
That I was constant Cimber should be banished,
And constant do remain to keep him so.
Red Kremling: (kneeling) O DK—
DK: Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Chunky: (kneeling) Great DK—
DK: Doth not Diddy bootless kneel?
Lanky: Speak, hands, for me!
Lanky and the other conspirators stab DK. Diddy stabs him last.
DK: Et tu, Diddy?—Then fall, DK.
RK: Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Wrinkly: Some to the common pulpits, and cry out,
"Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!"
Confusion. Some citizens and senators exit.
Diddy: People and senators, be not affrighted.
Fly not. Stand still. Ambition's debt is paid.
Lanky: Go to the pulpit, Diddy.
Chunky: And Wrinkly, too.
Diddy: Where's K. Lumsy?
RK: Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
KAOS: Stand fast together, lest some friend of DK's
Diddy: Talk not of standing.—K. Lumsy, good cheer.
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, K. Lumsy.
Wrinkly: And leave us, K. Lumsy, lest that the people,
Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
Diddy Do so. And let no man abide this deed
But we the doers.
K. Lumsy exits and Cthulu enters.
Wrinkly: Where is Funky?
Cthulu: Fled to his house amazed.
Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run
As it were doomsday.
Diddy: Fates, we will know your pleasures.
That we shall die, we know. 'Tis but the time,
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
Wrinkly: Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Diddy: Grant that, and then is death a benefit.
So are we DK's friends, that have abridged
His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our hands in DK's blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords.
Then walk we forth, even to the marketplace,
And waving our red weapons o'er our heads
Let's all cry, "Peace, freedom, and liberty!"
Wrinkly: Stoop, then, and wash.
The conspirators smear their hands and swords with DK's blood.
Wrinkly: How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Diddy: How many times shall DK bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey's basis lies along
No worthier than the dust!
Wrinkly: So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be called
"The men that gave their country liberty."
Chunky: What, shall we forth?
Wrinkly: Ay, every man away.
Diddy shall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
Funky's servant enters.
Diddy: Soft! Who comes here? A friend of Funky's.
Funky's servant: (kneeling) Thus, Diddy, did my master bid me kneel.
(falls prostrate) Thus did Funky bid me fall down,
And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:
Diddy is noble, wise, valiant, and honest.
DK was mighty, bold, royal, and loving.
Say I love Diddy, and I honor him.
Say I feared DK, honored him, and loved him.
If Diddy will vouchsafe that Funky
May safely come to him and be resolved
How DK hath deserved to lie in death,
Funky shall not love DK dead
So well as Diddy living, but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Diddy
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state
With all true faith. So says my master Funky.
Diddy: Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman.
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied and, by my honor,
Funky's servant: (rising) I'll fetch him presently.
The servant exits.
Diddy: I know that we shall have him well to friend.
Wrinkly: I wish we may. But yet have I a mind
That fears him much, and my misgiving still
Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
Diddy: But here comes Funky.—Welcome, Funky.
Funky: O mighty DK! Dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.
—I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank.
If I myself, there is no hour so fit
As DK's death's hour, nor no instrument
Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die.
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
As here by DK, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.
Diddy: O Funky, beg not your death of us.
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel—
As by our hands and this our present act
You see we do—yet see you but our hands
And this the bleeding business they have done.
Our hearts you see not. They are pitiful.
And pity to the general wrong of Rome—
As fire drives out fire, so pity pity—
Hath done this deed on DK. For your part,
To you our swords have leaden points, Funky.
Our arms in strength of malice and our hearts
Of brothers' temper do receive you in
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Wrinkly: Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
In the disposing of new dignities.
Diddy: Only be patient till we have appeased
The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
And then we will deliver you the cause,
Why I, that did love DK when I struck him,
Have thus proceeded.
Funky: I doubt not of your wisdom.
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
(shakes hands with the conspirators)
First, Diddymus Prosculus, will I shake with you.
—Next, Caia Ryn, do I take your hand.
—Now, Chunky Prosculus, yours.—Now yours, KAOS.
—Yours, Toma.—And, my valiant Lanky, yours.
—Though last, not last in love, yours, good Cthulu.
—Gentlemen all, alas, what shall I say?
My credit now stands on such slippery ground
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
Either a coward or a flatterer
—That I did love thee, DK, O, 'tis true.
If then thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death
To see thy Funky making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes—
Most noble!—in the presence of thy corse?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Donkey! Here wast thou bayed, brave hart;
Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy lethe.
O world, thou wast the forest to this hart,
And this indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
How like a deer, strucken by many princes,
Dost thou here lie!
Funky:Pardon me, Caia Ryn.
The enemies of DK shall say this;
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
Wrinkly: I blame you not for praising DK so.
But what compact mean you to have with us?
Will you be pricked in number of our friends?
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
Funky: Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed
Swayed from the point by looking down on DK.
Friends am I with you all and love you all
Upon this hope: that you shall give me reasons
Why and wherein DK was dangerous.
Diddy: Or else were this a savage spectacle!
Our reasons are so full of good regard
That were you, Funky, the son of DK,
You should be satisfied.
Funky: That's all I seek.
And am moreover suitor that I may
Produce his body to the marketplace,
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,
Speak in the order of his funeral.
Diddy: You shall, Funky.
Wrinkly: Diddy, a word with you.
(aside to Diddy) You know not what you do.
Do not consent
That Funky speak in his funeral.
Know you how much the people may be moved
By that which he will utter?
Diddy: (aside to Wrinkly) By your pardon.
I will myself into the pulpit first,
And show the reason of our DK's death.
What Funky shall speak, I will protest,
He speaks by leave and by permission,
And that we are contented DK shall
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.
It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
Wrinkly: (aside to Diddy) I know not what may fall. I like it not.
Diddy: Funky, here, take you DK's body.
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of DK,
And say you do 't by our permission.
Else shall you not have any hand at all
About his funeral. And you shall speak
In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended.
Funky: Be it so.
I do desire no more.
Diddy: Prepare the body then, and follow us.
Everyone except Funky exits.
Funky: 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
That ever livèd in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy—
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue—
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men.
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy.
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war,
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds,
And DK's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.
Swanky's servant enters.
Funky: You serve Swanky Kong, do you not?
Swanky's servant: I do, Funky.
Funky: DK did write for him to come to Rome.
Swanky's servant: He did receive his letters and is coming.
And bid me say to you by word of mouth—
(sees DK's body) O DK!—
Funky: Thy heart is big. Get thee apart and weep.
Passion, I see, is catching, for mine eyes,
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy master coming?
Swanky's servant: He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome.
Funky: Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced.
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Swanky yet.
Hie hence, and tell him so.—Yet, stay awhile.
Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse
Into the marketplace. There shall I try,
In my oration, how the people take
The cruèl issue of these bloody men.
According to the which, thou shalt discourse
To young Swanky of the state of things.
Lend me your hand.
They exit with DK's body.