The Due Of Honor In

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?

"fair, Kind, And True" Is All My Argument, "fair, Kind, And True" Varying To Other Words; And In This Change Is My Invention Spent, Three Themes In One, Which Wondrous Scope Affords.

Most Friendship Is Feigning, Most Loving Mere Folly.

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!

Murder Most Foul, As In The Best It It; But This Most Foul, Strange, And Unnatural.