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Triumvirs, after the Death of Julius
Conspirators againf Julius Cæfar.
Tribunes and Enemies to Cæfar.
Friends to Brutus and Caflius.
Servants to Brutus.
Ghost of Julius Cæfar,
Calphurnia, Wife to Cæfar.
Gwards and Attendants.
SCENE, for the three first Aets, at Rome: afterwards, at an INe near Mutina; at Sardis; and Philippi.
A C T I. SC EN E I.
A Street in Rome.
Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Gommoners,
Is this a holiday? what! know you nof,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign OF
your profeffion? speak, what crade are thou? Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What doft thou with thy beft apparel on?
What trade are you? Cob. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobler.
Mar. But what trade art thou ? answer me directly.
Cob. A trade, Sir, chat, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience ; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender
of bad foals.
Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
Cob. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me : yet if you be out, Sir, I can mend you.
Flav. What mean'st 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 tradesmen's matters, nor woman's matters ; but with-all, I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever
upon neatsleather have gone upon my handy-work.
Flav. But wherefore are not in thy shop to day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ?
Cob. “ Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get “ myself into more work.” But, indeed, Sir, we maké holiday to see 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 stones, you worle than senseless 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 fate The live-long day with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tyber trembled underneath his banks To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in his concave Thores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Flav Go, go, good countrymen, and for that fault
Mar. May we do so ?
Flav. It is no matter, let no images
about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets : So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers, pluckt from Cæsar'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 severally.
. - deck'd with ceremonies.] Ceremonies, for religious orna. ments. Thus afterwards he explains them by Cæfar's trophies ; i. e, fuch as he had dedicated to the Gods.
-foar above she view of men,] Paterculus fays of this Cesar, animo fuper humanam & naturam & fidem evectus, which is finely expreised, if we understand it to fignify that he aspired to a power that was contrary to the rights of nature, and to the duty and good faisb he owed bis country.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, for the Course, Calphurnia,
Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, a
C&T. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
Ant. Cæfar, my lord.
Cæs. Forget not in your speed, Antonius,
Ant. I shall remember.
Cæf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Cef. Who is it in the Press, that calls on me?
Sootb. Beware the Ides of March.
[Exeunt Cæsar and Train.