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SCENE, a Street in Rome,
Enter Flavius, (1) Marullus, and certain Commoners.
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 One of your profeffion? fpeak, what trade
Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
Cob. Truly, Sir, in refpect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would fay, a cobler.
Mar. But what trade art thou? answer me directly. Cob. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may ufe with a fafe confcience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.
(1) Murellus,] I have, upon the Authority of Plutarch, &c. given this Tribune, his right Name, Marullus,
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.
(2) Flav. What mean'ft thou by that? mend me, thou faucy fellow?
Cob. Why, Sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?
Cob. Truly, Sir, all, that I live by, is the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters; but with-all, I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old fhoes; 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 fhop to-day? Why doft thou lead these men about the streets?
Cob. Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get myfelf into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cafar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Wherefore rejoice!-what conqueft brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worfe than senseless things!
(2) Mar. What mean'f thou by that ?] As the Cobler, in the preceding Speech, replies to Flavius, not to Marullus; 'tis plain, I think, this Speech must be given to Flavius.
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 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 shores of all.
See, whe're their baseft metal be not mov'd;
do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Cafe. Peace, ho! Cafar fpeaks.
Calp. Here, my lord.
Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his Course- Antonius,Ant. Cafar, my lord.
Caf. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our Elders fay, The barren, touched in this holy chase," Shake off their fteril curfe.
Ant. I fhall remember.
When Cæfar fays, do this; it is perform'd.
Caef. Ha! who calls?
Cafe. Bid every noife be ftill; peace yet again.
Bru. A foothfayer bids you beware the Ides of March.
Caf. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfar. Caf. What fay't thou to me now? speak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.
[Exeunt Cæfar and Train.
Manent Brutus and Caffius.
Caf. Will you go fee the order of the Courfe?
Caf. I pray you, do.
Bru. I am not gamefom; I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires;
I'll leave you.
Caf. Brutus, I do observe you now of late;
Be not deceiv'd if I have veil'd my look,
Meerly upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with paffions of fome difference,
Which give fome foil, perhaps, to my behaviour:
Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your paffion;
Caf. 'Tis juft.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius,
Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear;
That of yourself, which yet you know not of
[Fleurish and fhout. Bru.