In the canon
Julius Caesar
- Form
- Form Play
- Year
- Year 1623
- Pages
- Pages 120
Beware the ides of March, a voice calls from the crowd, and Caesar walks past it toward the most famous murder ever staged. The play is not his; it belongs to Brutus, who loves him, who cannot sleep, who paces his orchard before dawn arguing himself into a killing he must believe is a sacrifice rather than a butchery.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; / I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The blurb, the gist, the why of the day and the work itself are in the app. The first button needs it on this device; the second gets it there.