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- Assemble all the poor men of your sort, and weep your tears, he says, Into the channel till the lowest stream, and do kiss the most exalted shores of all. Go you down that way towards the Capitol. This way will I. Disrobe the images. If you do find them decked with ceremonies.
- It is no matter. Let no images Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about And drive away from the vulgar from the streets. So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers plucked from Caesar’s wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
- May we do so?You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
- Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow worldLike a Colossus, and we petty menWalk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
- I have no question in my mind that you love me. but for the time being please stop pressuring me, we'll discuss the matter later.
- Casca, great evening. Did you follow Caesar to his house? Why are you out of breath and gazing like that?
- Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
- A slave held up his left hand, which flamed and burnt like twenty torches, yet his hand was impervious to the fire and was not injured. A lion approached me in front of the Capitol and strolled past without attempting to harm me.
- I've seen storms in which violent winds shatter ancient oak trees, and I've seen the seas surge, rage, and froth, but never before tonight, never until now, have I encountered a storm that drips fire, as Cicero describes.
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