The Drama 'tis the Court

Q: Who does what in the courtroom?

A: The venerable bard Williams Shakespeare speaking through the voice of Jacques in his play As You Like It explained, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.” What ‘tis true in life, ‘tis verily true within the halls of justice, to wax Shakespearean.

In the drama that is the courtroom there are a variety of players, each playing a unique and distinct part. The director of this drama is the judge. His oversight governs the proper and legal conduct of all who enter the courtroom’s doors. He is not unlike the captain of a ship, though he need not be in international waters to perform a marriage. The judge establishes the cues for when the lines are to be said and orders the curtain drawn when appropriate. It falls to him to finally say what the law means. He hears objections, instructs jurors on what the law says, and provides for courtroom security. When the jurist speaks, the whole troupe gives way to his words.

There also appear individuals playing the part of attorneys. Usually two in number, one represents the plaintiff, the other the defendant and each present the facts of the case to jurors, while ending such presentations with persuasive arguments of how those facts befit the law.

Attorneys speak to jurors, who range in quantity from six for civil cases and a dozen for cases in criminality. These temporary courtroom thespians play the part of the factfinder. Second only to the judge, the jury has the most say in the outcome to the trial. None on the courtroom stage are permitted to interfere with the independence and peculiar function of our jurors, and so these players fill an essential role of our judicial theater.

A cadre of other actors plays supporting roles and fill out the rest of our playbill. Of course there are the parties to the case: a plaintiff (if the case be civil), the State (if criminal it be), and a defendant. Asked to write the improvised script of our production are the witnesses, called by each side – each with a different or unique take on the matter in controversy. The testimony of witnesses seems often akin to the villain Autolycus in As You Like It, “Though I am not naturally honest, I am sometimes by chance.”

Charged with recording each jot and tittle spoken by the players is our resident scribe, the court reporter. By spoken word or deftly typed strokes of a keypad, our court reporter maintains for posterity (and sometimes appeal) the words of our drama.

Beside the judge sits the circuit clerk. As the keeper of records, the circuit clerk is charged with maintaining the exhibits introduced in an orderly fashion. Her most important function: swearing. That is, it is her duty to administer the oaths.

In the corner sits our justice of the peace. His presence suggests protection and his duty agrees. He is the lone Musketeer whose sole end in professional life is to maintain the safety and security of the courtroom.

Finally, there is a lonesome soul who seemingly plays no part. His role is silent when present on the stage that is our courtroom, yet his words often speak through the other players. He plays one part advisor to the judge, another part jester, and most parts attorney. While this barrister does not litigate, his ability to research and anonymously pen the words of the judge bespeaks his legal training. He is the judicial law clerk, the embodiment of the fifth age that Jacques explained in his soliloquy that begins Act II, Scene 7: “And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin’d, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part.”

And so they all do play their part and the drama of justice is meted out in daily form.

Copyright: Jeremiah G. Dys, Esq. May not be used absent express, written permission. Please contact the author for permission to reprint.