Nothing, my lord.

My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

My lord?

The strings, my lord, are false.

I have slept, my lord, already.

It is my duty, sir.

Ay, my lord, an't please you.

I was sure your lordship did not give it me.

Varro and Claudius!

Here in the tent.

Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

I hear none, madam.

Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?

To know my errand, madam.

He is a sick man that would speak with you.

No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,
And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
That by no means I may discover them
By any mark of favour.

No, sir, there are moe with him.

Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.

Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

I will, sir.

I know not, sir.

The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure,
It did not lie there when I went to bed.

I will, my lord.

Call'd you, my lord?