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A Soothfaryer. Odavius Cæsar,
Triumvirs Young Cato. M. Antony,
after thedeath Cinna, a poet. Le
Volumnius, ! Cassius,
fervants to Brutus. Clitus,
conspirators Claudius, Treborius, agains? Hve Strato, Ligarius,
lius Cæjar. | Lucius, Decius Brutus, Mereilas Cimber,
Pindarus, forvant to Cafius. Cinna,
Ghost of Julius Cæsar.
Ti ibunes, and ene- Other Plebeians. Marullus, mies to Cæfur.
Calphurnia, roife to Cæfar.
Portia, quife to Brutus.
Guards and Attendants.
SCENE, for the tree forft asis, at Rome; afterwards, at an ifte
near Mutina, at Sardis, and Philippi.
ACT I. SCENE I.
A freet in Rome.
Enter. Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.
Flar. HENCE ; home, you idle creatures, get your
Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
-What trade are you? Cob. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would fay, a cobler.
Alar. But what trade art thou? Anfwer me directly.
Cob. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience ; which is indeed, Sir, a nender 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, coble you.
Cob. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl. I meddle with no mnens' matters, nor woman's matters ; but withal I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old shoes ; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-lether have gone upon my handy-work.
Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why doft 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 make holiday to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Wherefore rejoice !-what conquest brings he What tributaries follow him to Rome, [home? To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O you hard hearts !
cruel men of Rome! Knew you not Pompey? many a time and oft Have
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 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
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for that fault
Mar. May we do fo ?
Flav. It is no matter, let no images
away the vulgar from the streets :
tia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cafius, Cafca, and a
Calp. t ceremonies, for religious ornaments.