A cat napping in front of the spot where Caesar was killed on the http://flic.kr/p/4tErp)in 44bce. (via
Even cooler: there’s actually a cat shelter in these ruins. This is a big rectangular hole in the ground, with traffic on all sides. The walls in the background — where the arches are — lead to areas under the road for storage and whatnot. But on one side of the rectangle, that area is a cat shelter. You go down the stairs, then duck into a door and KITTIES EVERYWHERE. The healthy ones can come and go as they please, and they have a second room full of disabled/sick kitties where visitors are encouraged to stay as long as they like to give them love. One of my favorite memories of Rome was sitting on the cool tile floor there, where a tiny blind black cat plopped on lap and started purring happily.
Inky paw prints presumably left by a curious kitty on a 15th century manuscript.
From National Geographic.
HAMLET: […] Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
(He studies the dagger, sets his jaw, prepares to strike. At this moment, OPHELIA enters; sizing the situation at a glance, she drops her book and throws her arms around HAMLET, seizing the dagger just as it moves towards him. Startled, HAMLET twists toward her —)
Soft you now!
(— and relaxes as he recognizes her. OPHELIA gently pries the knife from his hand and sheathes it.) …the fair Ophelia. Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.
OPHELIA (quietly, not moving from their kneeling embrace): Good my lord,
How does your honor this many a day?
HAMLET: I humbly thank you; well, well, well…
(They sit, unmoving, OPHELIA holding his restless hands steady. There is a painfully familiar cough from just offstage, and OPHELIA winces, remembering her father’s commission. HAMLET hears it too, and remembers his.)
OPHELIA: My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long to redeliver…
one time in broadway’s lion king the actor playing simba was sick and so were his understudies so they literally called the lead in aida a few blocks away who played simba to come and fill in even though he hadnt played simba in YEARS and he did and the audience never knew and theatre is incredible