Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

among which number, Cassius, be you one.
I an itching palm!
great Rome shall suck reviving blood,
Now be a freeman,
Awake and see thyself.
If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
And every one doth wish you had but that opinion of yourself
that will be thawed from the true quality by that which melteth fools.
Et tu, Michael?
should so get the start of the majestic world
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.
Decius Brutus loves thee not. Thou has wronged Caius Ligarius.
shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, most noble in the presence of thy corse?
- My lord! - Sirrah, what news?
This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.
- We will be revenged! - Let not a traitor live!
A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run, as it were doomsday!
And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say,
Chastisement!
like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, and graze in common.
Give me thy hand, Messala.
save I alone, till Antony hath spoke.
it will inflame you, it will make you mad.
I fear we are too bold upon your rest.
but will follow the fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
beside themselves with fear.
he says he does, being then most flattered.
He greets me well.
It is true, this god did shake. His coward lips did from their color fly,
What trash is Rome, what rubbish and what offal,
but love from us, let us not wrangle.
as fire drives out fire, so pity, pity, hath done this deed on Caesar.
Say I feared Caesar, honored him and loved him.
- Did I say better? - If you did, I care not.
Hence! Home, you idle creatures, get you home!
- Then leave him out. - Indeed, he is not fit.
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness!
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel.
to dare the vile contagion of the night, and add unto his sickness?
Another general shout.
Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
so vile a thing as Caesar.
how covert matters may be best disclosed
Yon gray lines that fret the clouds are messengers of day.
Stand not to answer. Take thou the hilts.
I come to bury Butler, not to praise him
For mine's a suit that touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar.
Speak no more of her.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep.
All pity choked with custom of fell deed.
And from henceforth, when you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
should bear its comment.
And as I told you, he put it by once, but, for all that, to my thinking,
Lest that the people, rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
I know my hour is come.
And, to speak truth of Caesar,
and for my sake, stay here with Antony.
which, by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of.
Let me work, and I will bring him to the Capitol.
We'll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony!
If he love Caesar, all that he can do is to himself.
and be resolved how Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,
Else shall you not have any hand at all about his funeral,
I will myself into the pulpit first, and show the reason of our Caesar's death.
and those sparks of life that should be in a Roman
and dip their napkins in his sacred blood,
- Who offered him the crown? - Why, Antony.
Look you, Cassius, the angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,
I come to bury Ruby Gems, not to praise them!
I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I will go!
O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
These growing feathers, plucked from Caesar's wing,
which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors,
But yesterday, the word of Caesar might have stood against the world.
while I do run upon it.
See where their basest metal be not moved.
and peep about to find ourselves dishonorable graves.
Is it possible?
- None! - None!
O judgment! Thou art fled to brutish beasts,
that should move the stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
And for mine own part I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips
Beware the ides of March.
- Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? - Speak, hands, for me!
CAESAR (BIDEN) BRUTUS (DEMOCRATS)
That is enough to satisfy the senate.
See. Antony, that revels long o' nights is notwithstanding up.
Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned
Now, good Metellus, go along by him.
But are not some whole but we must make sick?
Friends am I with you all and love you all.
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
That by prescription and bills of outlawry,
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood.
to grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
it seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Schedule (BRE)
Grant that, and then is death a benefit.
No man bears sorrow better.
Look you here.
and the man entire upon the next encounter yields him ours.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.
which, hatched, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,
Your voice shall be as strong as any man's in the disposing of new dignities.
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe.
Set on and leave no ceremony out!
Good morrow, Casca.