Suffer Love; A Good Epithet! I Do

I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

Why, Friends, You Go To Do You Know Not What: Wherein Hath Caesar Thus Deserved Your Loves? Alas, You Know Not: I Must Tell You Then: You Have Forgot The Will I Told You Of. . . . . Here Is The Will, And Under Caesar's Seal. To Every Roman Citizen He Gives, To Every Several Man, Seventy-five Drachmas. . . . . Moreover, He Hath Left You All His Walks, His Private Arbours And New-planted Orchards, On This Side Tiber; He Hath Left Them You, And To Your Heirs For Ever, Common Pleasures, To Walk Abroad, And Recreate Yourselves. Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

Too Nice, And Yet Too True!

Believe Then, If You Please, That I Can Do Strange Things. [act 5, Scene 2]