With an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you. Julius Caesar. Act ii. Sc. 1. You are my true and honourable wife, Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, 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; 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, Et tu, Brute! How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown! The choice and master spirits of this age. Ibid. 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? Ibid. Ibid. If any, speak; for him have I offended. I a reply. pause for Ibid. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; 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: Have stood against the world; now lies he there, 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 iii. 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, It useth an enforced ceremony. Ibid. Ibid. 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. 3. The foremost man of all this world. Ibid. 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, For I am arm'd so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. Ibid. Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so? To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Ibid. A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, Ibid. All his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote. There is a tide in the affairs of men Julius Cæsar. Act iv. Sc. 3. Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Is bound in shallows and in miseries. Ibid. We must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. Ibid. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity. Ibid. Brutus. Then I shall see thee again? Brutus. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! O, that a man might know The end of this day's business ere it come! Ibid. Act v. Sc. 1. Ibid. Ibid. Sc. 3. Sc. 5. This was the noblest Roman of them all. His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up Ibid. 1 W. When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? 2 W. When the hurlyburly 's done, When the battle 's lost and won. Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Banners flout the sky. Macbeth. Act i. Sc. 1. Ibid Sc. 2 Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid. Dwindle, peak, and pine. What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, Macbeth. Act i. Sc. 3. Ibid. That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on 't? Ibid. If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not. And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me. Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ibid. |