Kitty liked the line, “The clock hath stricken three!” and used it frequently, changing the time to suit the moment.
King thundered out, “Yond Cassius hath a lean and hungry look!” which, when spoken at plump Marjorie, savored of the humorous.
However, the play went blithely on, each speaking in turn their own words or Shakespeare’s, as the impulse moved them.
“Hey, Casca,” said Kitty, “what hath chanced to-day, that Cæsar looks so sad?”
As Rosy Posy was at that moment rolling about in shouts of laughter, the remark missed its point, but nobody cared.
“Beware the Ides of March!” roared Marjorie to the giggling Cæsar, and Kitty chimed in:
“Ay; the clock hath stricken twenty minutes to six! Speak! strike! redress!”
“Does that mean to dress over again?” asked King. “’Cause we haven’t time now. We’ve just about time to kill Cæsar before dinner.”
“Come on, then,” said Marjorie; “we’ll have the killing scene now. King, bring in the umbrella-stand for Pompey’s pillar.”
“Yes,” said King, “and we’ll put a sofa-pillar down here by it for Cæsar to tumble onto, when he’s stabbed enough. Catch on, Rosy Posy? We’ll all jab at you, you know, and then you must groan like sixty, and tumble all in a heap right here.”