Verily, the ides of March are, at last, coming. And so it remains to be seen. Are we ignorant sheep to be herded? Or are we men,

of reason? Know, men, then, this: The ides of March are coming. Stop already with all, the lying! This, Art did, yell, at them.

“Are we ignorant sheep to be herded? Or are we reasonable men. Know men this: The ides of March come. Stop the lying! Keep democracy from dying!”

Art yelled at them at the top of his lungs. Hoping against hope they’d reason that peace is … what’s happening.

Arthur yelled at them at the top of his lungs, “Are we ignorant sheep to be herded? Or are we, reasonable men. Know ye this: Coming, are … the ides

of March. Stop the lying! So Arthur said in soirée to his brothers, last evening. Come brothers, the ides!

“Come brothers, the ides of March!” At that, wide grew, the eyes of brothers. At the tops of lungs anew, screamed, an enraged … and apoplectic … Art.

“Are we sheep, Art asked, to be herded? Or reasonable … men? Come soon the ides of March!” said Art.

At that, wide grew, the eyes of the brothers. So Arthur reiterated, “Are we sheep,” Art asked, “to be herded? Or reasonable men? Come soon Caesar’s

ides of March!” said Art. And the brothers knew. That The Don’s ides, were their ides, as well as, Caesar’s.

The Don’s ides, were their ides, as well as, Caesar’s. Wide-eyed, at first, were the eyes of Art’s brothers when Art informed them of Bob’s report, finally,

finalizing. But they grew, wild-eyed. As it dawned on each of them. They are tied … to The Donny.

Like a ton of bricks. Such was the impact upon Arthur’s brothers as the news dawned on each of them. As each of them realized how yesterday’s

news might further, impact him. That Don’s ides are their ides as well as Caesar’s, make them long, for yesterday.