Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mireOf this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'stUp to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
Dostluk sıcaktan soğuğa böyle geçer işte.Dikkat et, hep böyle olur, Lucilius.Sevgi tükenip bezginliğe yüz tuttu mu,Zoraki nezaket gösterileri başlar.Açık yürekli, candan bağlı bir insan gösteriş yapmaz.
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,Assemble all the poor men of your sort;Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tearsInto the channel, till the lowest streamDo kiss the most exalted shores of all.
Therein, ye gods, ye make the weak most strong;Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.Nor stony wall, nor walls of beaten brass,Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,Can be retentive to the strength of spirit:But life being weary of these worldly barsNever lacks power to dismiss itself.
To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, Like wrath in death and envy afterwards. For Antony is but a limb of Caesar. 165 Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
