Flavius,

Marullus,

MeЛlala,

Titinius,

Confpirators against Julius Cæfar.

} Senators.

Tribunes, and Enemies to Cæfar.

Friends to Brutus and Caffius.

Artemidorus, A Sophift of Cnidos.

A Soothsayer.

Young Cato.

Cinna, the Poet.

Lucilius,

Dardanius,

Plebeians, Guards and Attendants.

SCENE for the three first Acts in Rome, for the beginning of the fourth at an Island near Bononia, for the remainder of the fourth near Sardis, for the fifth in the Fields of Philippi.

JULIUS

JULIUS CESAR.

A C T I. SCENE I

A Street in ROME.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Plebeians.

H

FLAVIUS.

ENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you
home;

Is this a holiday? what, know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day, without the fign

Of your profeffion? fpeak, what trade art thou?
1 Pleb. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What doft thou with thy beft apparel on?

You, Sir, what trade are you?

2 Pleb. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but as you would fay, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? answer me directly.

2 Pleb. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may ufe with a fafe confcience, which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.

Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Pleb. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me; yet if you be out, Sir, I can mend you.

Flav. What mean'ft thou by that? mend me, thou fawcy fellow?

2 Pleb. Why, Sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

2 Pleb. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl: I meddle with no man's matters, nor woman's matters; but withall, I am indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old fhoes ; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handy-work.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy fhop to-day? Why doft thou lead these men about the streets?

2 Pleb. Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get my felf into more work. But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice!-what conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worse than fenfeless things!
O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome!
Knew you not Pompey? many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have fat
The live-long day with patient expectation,
To fee great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an univerfal fhout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your founds,
Made in his concave fhores? And do you now
Put on your best attire? and do you now
Cull out an holiday? and do you now
Strew flowers in his way, that comes to Rome
In triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone,

I tradesman's

2 comes in triumph

Run

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods, to intermit the plague,
That needs muft light on this ingratitude.

Flav Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault
Affemble all the poor men of your fort,

Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream

Do kifs the most exalted fhores of all. [Exeunt Plebeians:
See whe'r their baseft mettle be not mov'd;
They vanish'd tongue-ty'd in their guiltinefs.
Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol,
This way will I; difrobe the images,

If you

do find them deck'd with ceremonies. Mar. May we do fo?

You know it is the feaft of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter, let no images
Be hung with Cafar's trophies; I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
Thefe growing feathers pluckt from Cæfar's wing
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch.

Who else would foar above the view of men,
And keep us all in fervile fearfulness.

[Exeunt feverally.

NE II.

Enter Cæfar, Antony for the Courfe, Calphurnia, Portia, Decimus, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Cafea, and a Sooth

fayer.

Caf. Calphurnia!

Cafe. Peace, ho! Cæfar fpeaks.

Caf. Calphurnia!

Calph. Here, my Lord.

Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,

When he doth run his courfe

Ant. Cæfar, my Lord.

Antonius!"

Caf. Forget not in your speed, Antonius,

3 Tyber

To

To touch Calpburnia; for our elders fay,
The barren touched in this holy chafe,
Shake off their fteril course.

Ant. I fhall remember.

When Caefar fays, Do this; it is perform'd.
Caf. Set on and leave no ceremony out,
Sooth. Cafar!

Caf. Ha! who calls?

Cafe. Bid every noise be ftill; peace yet again.
Caf. Who is it in the prefs that calls on me?
I hear a tongue fhriller than all the mufick,
Cry, Cafar! Speak; Cafar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. What man is that?

Bru. A footh-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 Cæfar Caf. What fay'ft thou to me now? fpeak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.

Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.

[Exeunt. Manent Brutus and Caffius.

SCEN E III.

Caf. Will you go fee the order of the courfe?
Bru. Not I.

Caf. I pray you do.

Bru. I am not gamefome; I do lack fome part Of that quick fpirit that is in Antony:

Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires;

I'll leave you.

Caf. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late;
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And fhew of love, as I was wont to have;
You bear too ftubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Caffius,

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,

I turn