caesar (n.)
Go on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his fortunes in your boat.
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
Great Caesar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
Caesar had his Brutus; Charles the First, his Cromwell; and George the Third ["Treason!" cried the Speaker]—may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it.
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
ROBERT BROWNING. 1812-1890.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones.
Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
Put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
Thy steady temper, Portius,
Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Caesar,
In the calm lights of mild philosophy.
Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's.
Conjure with 'em,—
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
Conjure with 'em,—
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart.
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs
Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas;
And more true joy Marcellus exil'd feels
Than Caesar with a senate at his heels.
In parts superior what advantage lies?
Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise?
'T is but to know how little can be known;
To see all others' faults, and feel our own.
But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world; now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
Go on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his fortunes in your boat.
