Et tu, Brute?

Caesar is lying on the floor, surrounded by bloodthirsty senators

He is stunned. He has an incredulous look on his face as he is stabbed to death by those that had claimed to be his “friends.”

 He is Caesar! He is the Leader of Rome and Conqueror of the Gauls. They have the gall (or Gaul) to challenge him?

The Senators are merciless. They stab, pull their blades out and repeat. Caesar’s blood splatters everywhere, coating his robes and the conspirator’s blades. Caesar’s eyes plead for mercy, for pause. The Conspirators stab, pull and repeat.

 An idea strikes Caesar. He looks for his best friend, Brutus. Surely, Brutus will help him. Alas, he could not have been more wrong. Caesar meets Brutus’s gaze just as Brutus is poised to stab Caesar yet again. Caesar’s face falls. His gaze is full of anguish and heart break.
Brutus, His compadre, His amigo, His frater, is literally stabbing him in the back. Caesar is puzzled. Why would his friend do this? He had only wielded the power for a few weeks and had done nothing with it. Brutus was not one to be moved by power. Or was he?  Caesar can not comprehend that his best friend could betray him like this and with his dying breath, Caesar utters “Et tu, Brute?”