JULIUS CÆSAR. ACTI. SCENE I SCENE Rome. Enter Flavius, Murellus, and certain Commoners over the Stage. FLAVIUS. ENCE; Home you idle Creatures, get you home; H Is this a Holy-day? What, know you not, Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter. Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule? What doft thou with thy beft Apparel on? You Sir, what Trade are you? Cob. Truly Sir, in refpect of a fine Workman, I am but as you fay would say, a Cobler. Mur. But what Trade art thou? anfwer me directly. Cob. A Trade, Sir, that I hope I may ufe with a fafet Confcience, which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad Soals. Flav. What Trade, thou Knave? thou naughty Knave, what Trade? Cob. Nay, I befeech you Sir, be not out with me; yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you. Mur. What mean'ft thou by that? Mend me, thou fawcy Fellow? Cob. Why, Sir, Cobble you. Flav. Thou art a Cobler, art thou? Cob. Cob. Truly Sir, all that I live by, is the Awl: I meddle with no Tradefman's Matters, nor Woman's Matters; but withal, I am indeed, Sir, a Surgeon to old Shooes; when they are in great Danger, I recover them. As proper Men as ever trod upon Neats-Leather, have gone upon my handy work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to Day? Why doft thou lead thefe Men about the Streets? Cob. Truly Sir, to wear out their Shooes, to get my felf into more wotk. But indeed Sir, we make Holy-day to fee Cafar, and to rejoyce in his Triumph. Mur. Wherefore rejoyce? What Conqueft brings What Tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in Captive Bonds his Chariot Wheels? (he home? You Blocks, you Stones, you worfe than fenfeless Things! And do you now put on your best Attire ? Run to your Houses, fall upon your Knees, Flav. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this Fault Do kifs the most exalted Shores of all. [Exeunt Commoners. See See where their basest Mettle be not mov'd, If you do find them deck'd with Ceremonies. You know it is the Feast of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter, let no Images Who elfe would foar above the view of Men, [Exeunt: Enter Cæfar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Caska, a Soothsayer ; after them Murellus and Flavius. Caf. Calphurnia. Cask. Peace ho, Cafar speaks. Caf. Calphurnia. Calp. Here, my Lord. Caf. Stand you directly in Antonio's way, When he doth run his Courfe. Ant. Cafar, my Lord. Antonio. Caf. Forget not in your speed, Antonio. To touch Calphurnia; for our Elders fay, The Barren touched in this holy Chafe, Shake off their fteril Curfe. Ant. I fhall remember. When Cafar fays, Do this; it is perform❜d. Caf. Ha! Who calls? Cask. Bid every Noise be still; Peace yet again. Bru. Bru. A Sooth-fayer bids you beware the Ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his Face. Caf. Fellow, come from the Throng, look upon Cafar. Caf. What fay'ft thou to me now? Speak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March. Caf. He is a Dreamer, let us leave him; Pass. [Exeunt. Manent Brutus and Caffius. Caf. Will you go fee the order of the Course ? Bru. Not I. Caf. I pray you do. Bru. I am not Gamefom; I do lack fome part Caf. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late; Bru. Caffius, Be not deceiv'd if I have veil'd my look, Of late, with Paffions of fome Difference, Which give fome Soil, perhaps, to my Behaviour: Than that poor Brutus, with himself at War, Forgets the fhews of Love to other Men. Caf. Then Brutus, I have much mistook your Paffion, And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That That you might fee your Shadow. I have heard Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; That of your felf, which yet you know not of, To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous. [Flourish and Shont. Brs. What means this Shouting? I do fear, the People Chufe Cafar for their King. Caf. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it fo. Bru. I would not, Caffius; yet I love him well: VOL. V. M In |