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Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things, O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey?
Hence! Home, you idle creatures get you home!Is this a holiday? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get myself into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
LUPERCAL FEAST
What man is that?
What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again.
He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass!
Beware the ides of March!
Beware the ides of March!
I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings all tending to the great opinion. That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely Caesar’s ambition shall be glancèd at.
There was a Brutus once that would have brooked. Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome. As easily as a king.
Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
What you have said I will consider, what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time. Both meet to hear and answer such high things.

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