As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather. Julius Cæsar. Act 1. Sc. 1 The live-long day. Ibid. Beware the ides of March. Sc. 2. Well, honour is the subject of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, In awe of such a thing as I myself. Ibid "Darest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point.?" Upon the word, Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Walk under his huge legs and peep about Men at some time are masters of their fates: Conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. Ibid. Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! Ibid There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd Ibid. Let me have men about me that are fat, He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men. Julius Cæsar. Act i. Sc. 2. Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort But, for my own part, it was Greek to me. Between the acting of a dreadful thing Like Are then in council; and the state of man, Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Act ii. Sc. Z. Ibid. Ibid. A dish fit for the gods. But when I tell him he hates flatterers, says he does, being then most flattered. He Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; 1 "Utmost" in Singer. Ibid. Ibid With an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you. Julius Cæsar. Act ti. Sc. L You are my true and honourable wife, Think you Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, These things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; Ibid. Ibid. Sc. 2. Ibid. The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Cowards die many times before their deaths; Ibid. The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Will come when it will come. Caes. The ides of March are come. But I am constant as the northern star, There is no fellow in the firmament. Et tu, Brute! How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over The choice and master spirits of this age. Ibid. Act iii. Sc. 1. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. 1 Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart. — GRAY: The Bard, i. 3, line 12. Though last, not least in love.1 Julius Cæsar. Act iii. Sc. 1. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! That ever lived in the tide of times. Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war. Ibid. Ibid. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear. Sc. 2. Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If Ibid. Ibid. any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; Ibid. The good is oft interred with their bones. Ibid For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men. Ibid. When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept: Ibid. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. O judgment thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. But yesterday the word of Cæsar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, Ibid. Ibid. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. Ibid. See what a rent the envious Casca made. Ibid. This was the most unkindest cut of all. Ibid 1 Though last not least.—SPENSER: Colin Clout, line 444. Great Cæsar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Julius Cæsar. Act i. Sc. 2 What private griefs they have, alas, I know not. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man. Put a tongue In every wound of Cæsar that should move When love begins to sicken and decay, Ibid Ibia Ibid. Ibid There are no tricks in plain and simple faith. Act iv. Sc. 2 You yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm. Sc.& Ibid. The foremost man of all this world. I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Ibid. I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say "better"? Ibid. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. Ibid Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so? A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, Ibid. Ibid. |