Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You may do your will, but he's a tried and valiant soldier.

The taper burneth in your closet, sir.

I know that we shall have him well to friend.

Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?

which he did thrice refuse.

Then none have I offended.

and, you know, his means, if he improve them,

We'll send Mark Antony to the senate house,

- Portia, art thou gone? - No more, I pray you.

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up

and, by my honor, depart untouched.

Tell us what hath chanced today, that Caesar looks so sad.

I urged you further,

all truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them.

Let him go up into the public chair. We'll hear him.

now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, fulfill your pleasure.

O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!

Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

that loved my friend, and that they know full well

All my engagements I will construe to thee,

Farewell, Cicero.

And, for thy humor, I will stay at home.

You shall confess that you are both deceived.

he said if he had done or said anything amiss,

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,

According to his virtue, let us use him

The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Set him before me. Let me see his face.

I said an elder soldier, not a better.

They that with haste will make a mighty fire begin it with weak straws.

If not the face of men, the sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,

but you and I and honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.

You all did love him once, not without cause.

and receiving the bad air.

This dream is all amiss interpreted.

Caesar! Caesar!

and every man hence to his idle bed.

and when the fit was on him, I did mark how he did shake.

I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong,

You have done that you should be sorry for.

Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises.

and sell the mighty space of our large honors for so much trash

There's a bargain made!

I am compelled to set upon one battle all our liberties.

All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone to seek you at your house.

You wronged yourself to write in such a case.

Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Good night, Lord Brutus.

that they pass by me as the idle wind, which I respect not.

Are we all ready?

Thou art the ruins of the noblest man that ever lived in the tide of times.

come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.

Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?

I remember the first time ever Caesar put it on.

for I can raise no money by vile means.

I come to bury ICW, not to praise it.

People and Senators, be not affrighted.

so indeed he did.

I cannot tell what you or other men think of this life,

If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

The ides of March are come.

that of yourself which you yet know not of.

O Cicero, I have seen tempests,

whose ransoms did the general coffers fill. Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

and I must pause till it come back to me.

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Brutus, I do observe you now of late.

They are pitiful. And pity to the general wrong of Rome,

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.

and, as he plucked his cursed steel away, mark how the blood of Caesar followed it,

Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

if these be motives weak, break off betimes,

Here's Decius Brutus. He shall tell them so.

O Antony, beg not your death of us.

and men have lost their reason!

I blame you not for praising Caesar so,

Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?

He loves me well, and I have given him reasons.

A friend of Antony's.

Noble, noble Cassius, good night, and good repose.

- The will! - The will!

My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.

This hill is far enough.

and they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds,

But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

Here was a Caesar.

You shall read us the will, Caesar's will!

Well, Brutus, thou art noble,

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am armed so strong in honesty,

In such a time as this it is not meet that every nice offense

by my once-commended beauty,

Am I entreated to speak and strike?

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,

Come hither, sirrah.

Countrymen, my heart doth joy that yet, in all my life,

se pudrió todo muchachos

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,