FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, Tribunes.
ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophift of CNIDOS.

A Soothsayer.

CINNA, a Poet: Another Poet.

LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MÉSSALA, Young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS, Friends to BRUTUS and CASSIUS.

VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO, LUCIUS, DARDANIUS; Servants to BRUTUS.

PINDARUS, Servant to CASSIUS.

CALPHURNIA, Wife to CESAR.

PORTIA, Wife to BRUTUS.

Plebeians, Senators, Guards, Attendants, &c.

SCENE, for the three firft Alts, at Rome: afterwards at an Ifland near Mutina; at Sardis; and near Philippi.

** THIS PLAY, the ftory whereof is chiefly extracted from NORTH'S PLUTARCH, was probably written about the year 1607.

JULIUS CÆSAR.

ACT I. SCENE I.

ROME.

A Street.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.

Flav. HENCE; 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?-Speak, what trade art thou?
Car. Why, fir, a carpenter,

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
What doft thou with thy beft apparel on?-
You, fir; what trade are you?

Cob. Truly, fir, in refpect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Anfwer me directly. Cob. A trade, fir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe confcience; which is, indeed, fir, a mender of bad foals. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

Cob. Nay, I beseech you, fir, be not out with me.
Yet, if
you be out, fir, I can mend you.
VOL. V.

L

Mar.

Mar. What meaneft thou by that? Mend me, thou faucy fellow ?

Cob. Why, fir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly, fir, all that I live by is the awl: I meddle with no trade,-man's matters, nor woman's matters, but a with all. I am, indeed, fir, 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 shop to-day? Why doft thou lead thefe men about the streets?

Cob. Truly, fir, to wear out their fhoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, fir, we make holiday, to fee Cæfar, 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 stones, you worse 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 fat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To fee great Pompey pafs the streets of Rome:
And when you faw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks,
To hear the replication of your founds,

with all.]-with all, wherein the awl is concerned.
bis]-her.

Made

Made in his concave fhores?

And do you now put on your beft attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?

And do you now ftrew flowers in his

way,

That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

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 banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream

Do kifs the most exalted fhores of all. [Exeunt Commoners,
See, whe'r their bafeft metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltinefs.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol :
This way will I Difrobe the images,

e

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

You know, it is the feaft of f Lupercal.

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

Pompey's blood ?]-his fons vanquish'd by Cafar in Spain. whe'r]-a contraction of whether, common in our author's time. the images,]-of Cæfar, decorated with feftive ornaments, or mili tary trophies.

Lupercal.]-The feftival of the Lupercalia was celebrated at Rome in February, by the Priests of Pan, whofe touch, on this occafion, was deemed friendly both to conception and delivery.