‘Tis Brutus writing to thee on this dawn. I hope it be going well for thee in thine ancestor’s lands. I be proud of you, as a woman, to sail away to faraway lands. Thou art strong as thine ol’ Brutus. I miss thee. Ever since thou depart, mine mind been in constant war. I might sound crazy, but me being in power coul’ better Rome, coul’t not? I mean, the Triumvirate used to limit the power of all three individuals who ran the republic. But ever since Crassus’ death, Caesar has wanted to take control of our beloved republic. A demon! Julius Caesar be. The disgraceful , two-faced jackanapes. He hadth taken advantage of Pompei’s death and the fear of the people to gain nearly unlimited power. I blame Caesar not, but the crowd. Rome, where art thou? Gravitas hadth left our souls! Wherefore doth this “God” place his filthy sandal on the head of the crowd and our glorious forum?! Two midnights ago were I hearing the crowds voices. They cried: “Brutus! Where be our glorious Brutus?! Save us he must!” Had Sol aroused from his sleep, had I awaked to find writings in different hands in at my window! They held civilian voices calling me to oppose Caesar and rob Rome off his filthy hands. I’m aware, this man doth thrust Rome onto the floor. Julius Caesar, leave thou must! A Rome with a dictator be no Rome at all! Caesar must fall at the hands of I, Marcus Junius Brutus. Oh, what shame. Cassius hadth me seduced. ‘Tis noble not to oppose my father; ‘tis noble not to oppose my friend.
