Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

through the hazards of this untrod state
scorning the base degrees by which he did ascend.
What other bond than secret Romans that have spoke the word
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
Or, if you will, come home to me, and I will wait for you.
No, my Brutus.
wherein obscurely Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at.
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
I found no man but he was true to me.
100 ghastly women, transformed with their fear,
If not, why then, this parting was well made.
You blocks, you stones,
- Cassius, what night is this? - A very pleasing night to honest men.
Therefore I took your hands,
Did Cicero say anything?
Do not go forth today.
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
that it serves for the base matter to illuminate
I will do so. Till then, think of the world.
- Who's there? - A Roman.
I am not gamesome. I do lack some part of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
And do you now put on your best attire?
- No, my lord, I saw nothing. - Nor I, my lord.
and I am sure it did not lie there when I went to bed.
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, in which so many smiling Romans bathed,
Farewell, good Messala.
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
I should not need if you were gentle Brutus.
Caesar!
Upon the word, accoutered as I was, I plunged in and bade him follow,
Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, and bring me their opinions of success.
O Caesar, these things are beyond all use,
Fellow, come from the throng.
They murdered Caesar!
Thus must I piece it out.
Have patience, gentle friends. I must not read it.
I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
he'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
and the state of man,
When went there by a time, since the great flood,
And friends, disperse yourselves, but all remember what you have said,
alas, it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius, as a sick girl.
and that I am he. Let me a little show it, even in this.
And is it physical to walk unbraced
What, durst not tempt him?
They would not have you to stir forth today.
- Good night, Lucilius. - Good night, my lord.
Time is come round,
But I fear him not.
I could tell you more news, too.
By the gods, you shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
and touch thy instrument a strain or two?
If there be any in this assembly,
when it will come.
but in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Gentle knave, good night. I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
Casca, by your voice.
Know I these men that come along with you?
but speak all good you can devise of Caesar,
You forget yourself to hedge me in.
O masters!
The valiant never taste of death but once.
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
Boy, Lucius! Lucius, awake!
do stand but in a forced affection.
but withal a woman that Lord Brutus took to wife.
Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die.
My lord.
and we then shall determine how to cut off some charge in legacies.
There's tears for his love, joy for his fortune,
Caesar's better parts shall be crowned in Brutus!
Yours, Metellus.
Fear him not, Caesar. He is not dangerous.
that what he is, augmented, would run to these and these extremities.
to cut the head off and then hack the limbs,
I'll have them sleep on cushions by my tent.
You have some sick offense within your mind,
though it do split you, for, from this day forth,
We have tickets that will Breach soon just an FYI
Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarves off Caesar's images, are put to silence.
to beg the voice and utterance of my tongue,
Cassius, be content. Speak your griefs softly.
Ay.
Speak, strike, redress!
Yet I insisted, yet you answered not,
So let high-sighted tyranny range on
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
fall upon your knees,
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well.
I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it.
with a teacher's voice cry, "havoc!"
What mean you, Caesar?
for we will shake him,
And I perceive you feel the dint of pity.
by some other things.
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
I would not, Cassius, yet I love him well.
I will, my lord.
Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead so well as Brutus living,
low-crooked courtesies and base spaniel fawning.
knew you not Pompey?
O ye immortal gods.
Joy once fled cannot return
Do not presume too much upon my love. I may do that I shall be sorry for.
and Brutus is an honorable man.
Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
None, Brutus. None!
The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground
Lucius, my gown!
Shall no man else be touched but only Caesar?