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JULIUS CÆSAR.

A C T I.

'home;

SCENE, a Street in ROME.
Enter Flavius, (1) Marullus, and certain Commoners.

FL À VIUs.
#ENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you
H

Is this a holiday? what! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk

Upon a labouring day, without the sign
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rulė?.
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, Sir,—What trade are you?

Cobe, 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, that, I hope, I may use with a fafe conscience, which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.

(1) Murellus.] I have, upon the authority of Plutarcb, &c. given to this Tribune, his right name, Marullus,

Flar.

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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.

(2) Flav. What mean'st thou by that ? mend me, thou faucy fellow! Cób. Why, Sir, cobble

you.
Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou ?

Cob. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl : 1: meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters; but with-all, I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes ;. 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 dost thou lead these men about the streets ?

Cot. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get mye. Felf into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holic day to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice! what conquest brings.

he home?
What tributaries follow him to Romeo
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 sate:
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 fhout,
"That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
to hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire ?

(2) Mar. What mean'A tbou by tbat ?} As the Cobler, in the preceda ing (peech, replies to Flavius, not to Marudus; 'tis plain, I think, this speech must be given to Fravins.

And

Be gone

And do you now callout an holiday?
And do you now strew Aowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
Run to your houses; fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods, to intermit the plague,
7 hat needs muft light on this ingratitude.

Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault
Assemble all the poor men of your Sort;
Draw them to Tyber bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted Thores of all.

[Exeunt Commoners.
See, whe're their baseft mettle be not mov'd;
I hey vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol,

I his way will l; difrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.

Mar. May we do fo ?
You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter, let no images
Be hung with Cefar's trophies ; l'll 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 servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt severally.
Enter Cæsar, Antony for the Cours , Calphurnia, Porcia,
Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Casca, a Soorblayer.
Cæs. Calphurnia,
Casc. Peace, ho! Cafar speaks.
Cæf. Calphurnia,
Caly. Here, my lord.

Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his Course - Antonius,

Ant. Cæfar, my lord.

Caf. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calpburnia ; for our Elders say,

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The Barren, touched in this holy Chase,
Shake off their steril Curfe.

Ant. I shall remember.
When Cæfar says, do this; it is perform'd.

Caf. Set on, and leave no Ceremony out.
Soorb. Cæfar,
Caf. Ha! who calls ?
Casc. Bid every noise be ftill; peace yet again.

Cæf. Who is it in the Press, that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, lhriller than all the musick,
Cry, Cafar. Speak; Cæfar is turn'd to hear.

Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Cæf. What man is that?
Bru. A footh-fayer bids you beware the Ides of Marche
Caf. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Casc. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Celara
Cás. What say'st thou to me now? speak once again.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him ; passa

[Exeurt Cæsar and Traine
Manent Brutus ani Caffius.
Caf. Will you go see the order of the Course ?
Bru. Not I.
Caf. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome; I do lack some part :
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony :
Let me not hinder, Caffius, your desires ; .
l'll leave

you.
Caf. Brutus, I do observe you now of late ;
Į have not from your eyes that gentleness
And shew of love, as I was wont to have;
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over
your

friend that loves you.
Brú. Caffius,
Ee not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of

my

countenance
Meerly upon my felf. 'Vexed I am,
Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to my felf;
Which give some foil, perhaps, to my behaviour:

But:

But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Caffius, be you one ;
Nor conftrue any farther my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the thews of Love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much-mistook your passion;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Bru. No, Casus; for the eye fees not it felf, .,
But by reflexion from some other things. '

Cal. 'Tis just.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That

you

have no such mirrors, as will turn ..
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,',
Where many

of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæfar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoak,
Have with’d, that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Gaffius, That you would have me seek into my self, For that which is not in me?

Cal. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepard to hear ; And since you know, you cannot fee

your self
So well as by reflexion ; I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to your self
That of your felf, which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To ftale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protestor; if you know,
'That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, ·
And after scandal them; or if you know,

That I profess my self in banquetting
: To all the rout, then hold me dangerous,

[Flourish and hour, Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the People Chuse Cafar for their King. Caf, Ay, do you fear it

Then

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