Caesar The Panto



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It’s 55BC, and the Roman Empire rules over ancient Britain. But in Rome, treachery is never far away, in the shape of Caesar’s best friend, Mark Anthony. Meanwhile back in Britain, revolution is in the air. And a group of inept freedom-fighters, make their way to Rome. The story concludes in a showdown in the Coliseum, where Clarence the cross-eyed lion has an impact on the outcome. A wonderfully funny panto, in the style of Carry On Cleo and featuring two very funny stereotypical Essex-girl types, ugly sisters.


9 principals plus 5 smaller roles and several minor speaking roles and a chorus. Plenty of scope for doubling up. Also includes a Horse and a Lion.


All of our scripts have a runtime of approx 120 minutes, assuming that you use the full number of suggested musical numbers and not including any interval. But this is very dependent on your own production and can be edited by yourselves to suit.


All of our pantomimes come with a full, suggested songs and music cues and SFX list.


Traditional British pantomime, incorporating visual comedy, slapstick and audience participation.

Free Sample


Gluteus Maximus
King Ethelred
Queen Boudica
Basildon Bond
Prince Ralph
Britannicus Telecomus/Megaphonus

Chorus/minor roles

Mark Anthony
Captain Billious Sextus
Geldof (a horse)
Clarence (a Cross-eyed lion)
Villagers, Soldiers, Senators, etc.

Scene One

The Village Of Dungworth

Music cue 1: Villagers. After song ends…

Gertrude What an idyllic life we live here, in the beautiful village of Dungworth.

Morag Yes, indeed. Let’s just hope those rotten Romans never turn up.

Reg The Romans don’t scare me. If they ever dared to come here, we’ll soon show ‘em what we’re made of. Won’t we?

Bert Absolutely, Reg

Gertrude Oh, yeah. We’ll show them all right.

Morag They’ll wish they’d never heard of Dungworth.

Reg It’s time we had a rebellion and threw them all out of Britain. After all, what have the Romans ever done for us?

Bert They gave us sanitation, Reg.

Gertrude And a good job too.

Morag Oh, yes. I remember what this place used to smell like.

Reg All right, I’ll grant you that. Sanitation is the one thing the Romans have done for us

Bert And they built us all those nice straight roads.

Reg Well, obviously the roads. That goes without saying. But, apart from sanitation and the roads. What have the Romans ever done for us?

Gertrude Irrigation!

Morag Medicine!

Bert Education!

Reg Yes, all right…

Gertrude…Law and order.

Reg Fair enough…

Morag…Running water.

Reg All right, fine! Credit where’s it’s due.

Bert And don’t forget the wine. That’s something we’d really miss if the Romans ever left.

Reg That’s just the sort of comment I’d expect from a raving alcoholic.

Gertrude And what about the public baths, Reg?

Reg What about them?

Gertrude Well, we didn’t have ‘em before the Romans arrived.

Reg And…?

Gertrude And now we do.

Reg Okay. Apart from sanitation, the roads, medicine, education, law and order, running water, wine and public baths. What have the Romans ever done for us?

Bert They gave us Netflix!

Gertrude Oh, yes. I couldn’t do without my boxsets.

Morag And Amazon online shopping!

Reg Well now you’re all just being stupid! None of that has even been invented, yet!

Bert Maybe not here. But those clever Romans are way ahead of their time.

Reg I’ll advance my boot up your backsides, if you carry on saying stupid stuff!

Enter Villager at a run (SL)

Villager The Romans are here! The Romans are here!

Bert Everybody, run for your lives!

Reg What happened to showing them what we’re made of?

Bert If we stay here, they’ll soon find out what we’re made of. After slicing us up with their great big swords.

Reg Well I say we stay here and fight them!

Bert We can’t beat soldiers who are brave enough to wear short skirts and no underwear!

Morag (perks up) No underwear!?

Bert Not so much as a thong. Not even in winter.

Mor & Gert (quiver with excitement) Ooohh!

Gertrude I think we ought to stay here and surrender. What about you, Morag?

Morag I’m all for surrendering, Gertrude.

Reg I’ll bet you are. Well I’ll not having it! (draws his sword)

Bert You’re not thinking of taking them on all by yourself, are you Reg?

Reg No, but I’m going to stop our women fraternising with them.

Gertrude What’s fraternising?

Reg It’s…erm…I can’t put my finger on it right now. And neither are those rotten Romans. Now, let’s clear off before they get here.

Bert So, we’re running away after all then, Reg?

Reg We are not running away! We’re making a strategic withdrawal. And when the Romans least expect it, we’ll strike!

Morag And if there’s one thing us Brits are good at, it’s striking.

Reg Now, move it! (marches them off at sword point SR and all exit)

Enter Roman Soldiers (SL)

Soldier 1 The whole village appears to be deserted, commander.

Soldier 2 Just like every other village we’ve ever visited.

Gluteus. M That’s because the Brits always run away, once they spot our brave legionnaires.

Soldier 3 I think I’d run away too. If lots of big hairy men wearing short skirts and no underwear suddenly turned up, waving their big weapons about.

Gluteus. M That’s not what I’ve heard, soldier.

Soldier 3 Never listen to idle tittle tattle, commander.

Soldier 1 What strange people these Britons are. Right in the middle of that last battle, at precisely four o’clock. They suddenly stopped fighting and went and drank some hot brown water, with milk and two sugars.

Soldier 2 And they insist on driving their chariots, on the left.

Gluteus. M Speaking of strange people. Where is my slave, Lurkio?

Soldier 3 I spotted him taking a comfort break behind a big bush, back there.

Lurkio (screams off) Aaaah!

Enter Lurkio (SR) carrying a rolled-up umbrella and rubbing his bottom.

Lurkio Flaming nettles! (to audience) Greeting citizens!

Gluteus. M Ah, there you are Lurkio!

Lurkio (to Gluteus) Hail, GM!

Gluteus. M Don’t call me GM! I am Gluteus Maximus, Commander of the British Roman legions. Loathed and feared throughout the Roman Empire

Lurkio (encouraging audience) And booed by pantomime audiences everywhere.

Gluteus. M I am a Roman VIP and must be spoken to with respect. Especially by a slave!

Lurkio Sorry I spoke. (to audience) Isn’t he picky? I knew the producer shouldn’t have given him a main part. Talk about big-headed. If his head was any bigger, we’d have to widen the stage door. But he’s right you know. I am his slave and must do as I’m told. (to G.M) As we’re in Britannicus, master. May I call you by your British name?

Gluteus. M And what is the British name for Gluteus Maximus?

Lurkio Big Bum!

Gluteus. M I like it! Very well Lurkio, you may call me Big Bum. (pointing) What is that strange thing you’re carrying, Lurkio?

Lurkio It’s a combined weapon and essential British weather accessory.

Gluteus. M And what’s it called?

Lurkio It’s called an umbrella. It keeps you dry when it rains and is very useful for fighting your way to the front of queues. (fences with it)

Gluteus. M (to Soldiers) Search the woods near the village and arrest anyone you find there.

Soldier 1 Yes, commander. (to other Soldiers) Follow me, men!

Exit Soldiers (SR)

SFX: Thunder.

Gluteus. M What’s that noise, Lurkio?

Lurkio Thunder, Big Bum. Unless you’ve…

Gluteus. M…No, I haven’t!

SFX: Sound of rain.

Gluteus. M Doesn’t the rain ever stop, in this blasted country?

Lurkio Well, you have arrived in the rainy season. Or as we Brits call it – summer.

Gluteus. M I’m surprised all the inhabitants haven’t developed webbed feet by now.

Lurkio Never fear, Big Bum. My umbrella will keep us dry. (opens umbrella – rain stops) What do you know, it’s stopped raining. (shuts umbrella – rain starts) I think I spoke too soon. (opens and shuts umbrella several times and rain stops and starts)

Gluteus. M How very strange. Whenever you open the umbrella, it stops raining. And when you fold it down, it starts again. It must have strange magical properties.

Lurkio We Brits call it, sods law.

Enter Britannicus Telecommus (SR)

B.T Greetings, Romans!

Gluteus. M Greetings, toothless old crone.

B.T I’m not toothless! I have all my own teeth…(grins widely)…see?

Gluteus. M So, you have. Please accept my apologies. Only most Britons we’ve met, have little or no teeth. Due to the complete lack of NHS dentists.

Lurkio (to audience) Not much change there then.

B.T That doesn’t bother me, I’m with BUPA.

Gluteus. M What is your name, old woman?

B.T Britannicus Telecommus! But you can call me, B.T. I am a great sage. And I know my onions an’ all.

Lurkio (to audience) And you know what us Brits do with sage and onions, don’t you?

Gluteus. M What can we do for you, B.T?

B.T I have a message for the Roman Commander, Big Bum.

Gluteus. M I am Big Bum.

B.T (glancing at his behind) I thought you might be.

Gluteus. M What is your message?

B.T I have been reading your runes, and have noticed that Uranus…

LurkioStop! Hold it right there! (goes to wing) Can she say that? She can! (to audience) Things have certainly moved on in panto, haven’t they? (to B.T) Carry on Mrs.

B.T As I was saying. Uranus is paired with the full moon. And as a result, you must beware the Ides of March. For they pose a grave threat to your Roman power.

Gluteus. M What utter nonsense. Nothing can threaten the might of the Roman Empire.

B.T (dances about, shrieking) Beware the Ides of March! Beware the Ides of March!

Lurkio (to BT) Have you ever thought of auditioning for Britannicus’s Got Talent?

Gluteus. M Be gone, old crone!

B.T (cupping an ear) Beg pardon?

Lurkio On your bikus, dear!

B.T All right, I’m going. But take heed. The end of Roman rule draws near. (shrieks) Beware the ides of March! Beware the ides of March! (exits SL)

Lurkio (to audience) They really shouldn’t let them out on their own you know.

Music cue 2: Enter Basildon Bond (SR) he moves around stage, with hands miming holding a gun two-handed style.

Basildon Hail, Gluteus Maximus!

Gluteus. M Hail, rain, snow – the flaming lot! And it’s not even lunch time.

Basildon Allow me to introduce myself. The name’s Bond, Basildon Bond. Secret agent and master of disguise. Also known as 007.

Lurkio (aside to audience) 007? He looks more like 003½ to me. (to Basildon) Excuse me, but why are you holding your hands like that?

Basildon Because guns haven’t been invented yet.

Gluteus. M So, we meet at last Mr Bond.

Basildon But we have already met, Commander.

Gluteus. M Have we? I don’t recall.

Basildon That’s because I’m a master of disguise.

Lurkio Master of smells, more like. (holds his nose)

Basildon Sorry about that. My last job entailed me disguising myself as a cesspit cleaner, and I really like to step into my role.

Lurkio You’ve certainly stepped into something.

Gluteus. M When did we meet, Mr Bond?

Basildon You remember the beautiful young servant girl from Bristol, you took a shine too?

Gluteus. M You mean, Bosoma?

Basildon That’s right.

Gluteus. M What about her?

Basildon That was no servant girl. That, was me.

Gluteus. M I don’t believe you!

Basildon (giggly girly voice) But sir! I’m just an innocent young servant girl.

Gluteus. M (aghast) Bosoma!?

Lurkio Didn’t you take Bosoma back to your villa, while your wife was away. Big Bum?

Basildon (girly voice) Oh sir, stop it! What kind of a girl do you take me for?

Lurkio Not the kind he thought, that’s for sure.

Gluteus. M Never mind all that, now! What have you to report, Bosom…I mean, Bond?

Basildon I have conceived…

Lurkio…I don’t think that’s physically possible, is it?

Basildon…a cunning plan, to deliver Princess Britney into your hands, commander.

Gluteus. M Tell me more.

Basildon Tomorrow morning. She and her sister, Princess Whitney. Will be travelling to Bognus, for a henus party. Ahead of Princess Britney’s marriage, to Prince Ralph of Wessex. On the way there, they will pass by a hostelry called Macdonaldus. Make your way there and hide nearby. I will arrange for their chariot to break down outside Macdonaldus, and then you can leap out and kidnap her.

Gluteus. M Brilliant, Bond! And what time should we get there?

Basildon Anytime between twelve and one would be best.

Gluteus. M And why is that?

Basildon They always have two for one offers on at lunchtime.

Gluteus. M Forget it. I hate British food. Fish & chips, egg & chips, beans & chips, pie & chips, chips & chips. Why can’t they have good old Roman food? Like, lark’s tongues, dormice in pastry, ostrich eyeballs, parrots in gravy, although they do repeat a bit. All served up with’a pasta.

Lurkio (to audience) I’ll bet you can’t wait for them to open Roman takeaways, can you?

Gluteus. M British food is almost as bad as their weather.

Basildon They also do black pudding Mcflurry.

Gluteus. M That sounds more like it. We will make our way to Macdonaldus and wait for Princess Britney’s chariot to arrive.

Basildon I’ll see you later, commander. Although you probably won’t recognise me, because I’m a master of disguise. Goodbye! (exits SL)

Lurkio (waving) Goodbye, Bosoma!

Gluteus. M Hold your tongue, Lurkio!

Lurkio (holding his tongue and trying to speak) Doodry, Dosoma!

Gluteus. M That’s it, Lurkio! (produces a yellow card) You’re now on a yellow card!

Lurkio A yellow card! What does that mean?

Gluteus. M It’s a first warning. I picked up the idea after watching a strange British game called, football. For the first offence you get a yellow card. And for a second offence, you get a red card and take an early bath.

Lurkio That doesn’t sound too bad. I enjoy a nice bath.

Gluteus. M (snaps) Yes, but yours will be filled with crocodiles!

Lurkio All right, there’s no need to get snappy. (to audience) Snappy? Crocodiles? Oh, please yourselves. (overacting) Oh, please don’t feed me to the crocodiles, sweet master! I’m far too young and handsome, to die! There’s so much in life I still want to do! (to audience) Heartrending, isn’t it? (to G.M) I beg of you! Please let me live!

Gluteus. M Very well, Lurkio. But you’d better behave yourself in future.

Lurkio Oh, I will! (aside to audience) He’s really starting to get above himself now.

SFX: Thunder and sound of rain.

Gluteus. M Not more rain! I’m already soaked right through to my underpants.

Lurkio I thought Roman soldiers didn’t wear underpants.Gluteus. MThey’re for officers only. Now, let us return to my villa and get dried out.

Exit all (SR)

Enter Britney and Whitney (SL) singing, to the tune of #We’re Going To Ibiza#

Brit & Whit #Woh! We’re off to sunny Bognus. Woh! We’re gonna get ‘ammered#

Whitney How much further is it to the Quikfix garage, Britney?

Britney It’s not far now, Whitney.

Whitney Why didn’t daddy just order a stretch-chariot to pick us up from home?

Britney Because the last time daddy ordered a chariot, we ended up with an old dung cart. Pulled by an even older horse. So, this time we’re picking up our own.

Whitney (indicating audience) ‘Ere, sis’! What’s this lot doing here?

Britney They must be following us, hoping to gate crash my hen party. (to audience) Listen here, you lot. The only people invited to my do, are royalty and rich people.

Whitney And beautiful people, like us. (to audience) And we are beautiful, ain’t we?

Brit & Whit Oh yes, we are!

Britney (to audience) How very dare you! Don’t you know who we are?

Whitney Tell ’em sis’.

Britney I’m Princess Britney and this is my sister, Princess Whitney. We’re on our way to pick up a chariot, to take us to my hen party. ‘Cos I’m about to marry Prince Ralph, innit!

Whitney And I’m her best man…I mean, woman.

Britney Don’t give the game away, sis’. (to audience) I’ve even picked my own song for the wedding. Would you like to hear it? Well you’re going too anyway. Hit it sis’! Music cue 3: Britney & Whitney. After song ends…

Whitney We ought to go on The Voice, sis’. We’d easily win it. (to audience) Wouldn’t we?

Britney They’re only jealous, ‘cos none of them can sing for toffee.

Whitney As we’ll soon discover, when we get to the community song.

Britney And if anybody tries gate crashing my do, they’ll get dragged away by the Bolsheviks.

Whitney That’ll make their eyes water, sis’.

Britney That’s because daddy has hired the Russian Mafia, to act as bouncers. Now, let’s go and pick up our chariot.

Brit & Whit (exit SR) #Woh! We’re off to sunny Bognus. Woh! We’re gonna get ‘ammered#