Conversations in Tusculum: A Play

By Richard Nelson

A riveting new work about power—and the abuse of power— in ancient Rome that has startling resonance with our age, Conversations in Tusculum reimagines the intense interaction among Brutus, Cassius, and Cicero leading up to the assassination of Julius Caesar, the leader they had once followed into battle but whom they have come to despise. Passionate in their beliefs but torn by their sense of loyalty, they struggle to continue believing in him despite their fear that his actions may pose great dangers to the nation. Conversations in Tusculum had its world premiere at the Public Theater in New York City in March 2008.

"Nelson…is a master of the quiet detail, of the oblique rhythm that transforms emotional diffidence into fascinating character."--Newsday

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Mar 4, 2008
• ISBN: 9781429996310

Richard Nelson

Richard Nelson is a children's author from Portage la Prairie, Manitoba, Canada. Richard loves spending time with his family and going on "adventures". His other interests include video games, photography, board games, and fishing. Richard grew up with a passion for children's books and loved story time before bed as a child. This tradition carried on with his own family. Between his wife and himself, they strived to read at least one book every night to their daughter. His favorite children's books include many of the "I Can Read" books, "the Monster at the end of this Book", and "Bambi Gets Lost". His plan for the future is to create many more children's books that bring family's closer together and smiles on children's faces.

Book preview

Tusculum, a town in the Alban Hills, fifteen miles southeast of Rome, is home to many country villas owned by wealthy and politically well-connected Romans.

Scene 1

May. 45 B.C. Brutus’s villa in Tusculum. Night. A garden lit by a few oil lamps.

BRUTUS (forties) and CASSIUS (forties) sit on benches in the garden. They have been drinking and talking for quite some time.

CASSIUS: I’m not sure what I’d actually expected—

BRUTUS: I’m so pleased we’re finally talking about this.

CASSIUS: I’m always thinking about it. Trying to figure it out. What it means. Or meant. What it says about me.

BRUTUS: Me too. So …

CASSIUS: So, well, I’d done pretty much everything I could to defeat him and he knew that. But in an odd—He seemed to respect that. Soldier to soldier.

BRUTUS: I know. Does he really mean it?

CASSIUS: Who knows? Then—he pardons me. He asks me for nothing. Treats me like a—One of his own. Does all he can to promote me … You lose the feeling that there’s ground under your feet, you just …

Pause. Off, some dogs bark.

BRUTUS: I’ve never told this to anyone.

CASSIUS: Neither have—

BRUTUS: What I’m about to say. (short pause) After the battle—it was … every which way. I—with a few men—we waded into a swamp. And through the whole night we sort of walked? Pushed our way? Swam? Toward Caesar. To surrender? I don’t know what I could have been expecting. (short pause) At his camp-they don’t kill me right away. I assume they’ll want-to show me off. They throw me into a small room. No light. I’m there for—I don’t know: half a day? Then—he walks in. Breastplate polished, helmet in his hands. No one with him. He closes the door. There’s hardly any light at all-except through the cracks in the wall of that hut, and the door. He says, I understand you asked to clean yourself, Brutus—for me. Before meeting me. But I want to see you like this. Covered in mud and filth. (short pause) I tried to stand. Stay there. On the ground. Your mother, he says. I’ve written her. To tell her you’re alive. She’s asked about a hundred times. Servilia is a good woman—we’re both lucky men … Then he’s behind me and he sort of knees me in the head. Why? he shouts at me. Why did you do this, Brutus? Since when did you want to become a soldier? What happened to your books? To say nothing—of your investments.

Pause. BRUTUS looks at CASSIUS.

I’m not a greedy man.

CASSIUS: Of course not. He knows—

BRUTUS: I’m an honest man!

CASSIUS: He knows how to make us feel small. Feel like nothing.

BRUTUS: Then I think he kicked me in the side of the face, and I’m lying down. For god’s sake—Pompey killed your own father! Why side with such a man? With him over me?! I have been kind.

Short pause.

CASSIUS: Did you try to answer him?

BRUTUS nods.

BRUTUS: I thought it was the right thing to do—for my country, I said. Which is greater than any one of us. Where no man—is master. No one answers him back now.

CASSIUS: No.

BRUTUS: So he looks at me, and then: So I should just pardon you? That’s why you waded all night through a swamp? Someone so close, so close to me—someone who has—betrayed me? (pause) That was a question, he says. What happens to me, I say, I leave to Caesar. (short pause) I should slit your throat, then. Or perhaps, he continued, as you are now such a man of principle—whatever that means—I could just leave a sword behind. I nodded and held out my hand for the sword.

CASSIUS: You did?

BRUTUS: At least I did that. No, he says. No, I will keep you alive—not because of your mother and the love and respect I have for her. Alive. And—promote you. Just like with you.

Pause.

CASSIUS: It’s good to know I’m not alone.

BRUTUS: Then to seal the deal, to put me permanently in his—debt? His purse? To own me like a slave.

CASSIUS: We are all now Caesar’s slaves.

BRUTUS: He tells me, Pompey, I’ve learned, is on his way to Egypt. I shall chase him there and spread the word—that it was you who told me this, who’d betrayed him.

CASSIUS: You didn’t?

BRUTUS: No.

CASSIUS: Everyone thinks you—

BRUTUS: I know. I know. And, he says, outside this hut are five hundred prisoners, good men, some who fought with you, Brutus. Some who waded through that swamp last night with you. Excellent men. Worth their weight in gold. I want one out of every ten killed. As a lesson. Sever the heads, cut off the hands. Not necessarily in that order. Marcus Brutus, my dear friend, my new ally—I want you to choose who lives and who dies. Here’s the list. Make your mark. And he lets the paper float to the floor. I watch it. It seems to take forever. I hear footsteps and the door close behind him. A captain was there a second later—requesting my orders. (short pause) I tried to find some criteria to—Age? Number of children? I tried a lottery. The more I worked at this, the more I just smelled the rotting stench of Caesar on me. I don’t sleep