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Page 294 - But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar : What should be in that Caesar? Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure with them, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Page 370 - There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.
Page 363 - You say, you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cos. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; I said an elder soldier, not a better. Did I say better?
Page 345 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death , shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; As which of you shall not ? With this I depart ; That, as I slew my bes't lover" for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Page 362 - All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
Page 323 - 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; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Page 347 - But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now lies he there, And none so poor * to do him reverence.
Page 344 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him: There is tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune; honour, for his valour; and death, for his ambition.
Page 286 - The livelong day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made a universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores?