We make holiday to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph (I.i.33-35).
You cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climbed up to walls and battlements... To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome... And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! (I.i.41-43, 47, 55-57).
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? (I.i.31).
Caesar (I.ii.15).
Beware the ides of March (I.ii.21).
Cassius
He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass (I.ii.29).
Casca
Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue shriller than all the music Cry Caesar. Speak. Caesar is turned to hear (I.ii.18-20).
Brutus
There was a Brutus once that would have brooked Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king (I.ii.168-170).
What you have said I will consider; what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time Both meet to hear and answer such high things (I.ii.176-179).
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome, What rubbish, and what offal when it serves For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this Before a willing bondman (I.iii.111-117).
There's a bargain made (I.iii.125).
You speak to Casca, and to such a man That is no fleering telltale...And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest (I.iii.120-121, 123-124).