These growing feathers plucked from Caesar’s wing 77 Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, 78 Who else would soar above the view of men 79 And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
FLAVIUS
It is no matter. Let no images 73
Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about 74
And drive away the vulgar from the streets; 75
So do you too, where you perceive them thick. 76
These growing feathers plucked from Caesar’s wing 77
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, 78
Who else would soar above the view of men 79
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. 80
They exit < in different directions. >
[Act 1 Scene 1]
