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Rome. A street.
[Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners]
FLAVIUS
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Hence:| home you | idle | creatures,| get^you
home: ??
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Is this | a hol|iday?| What,^know | you not
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(Being | mechan|ical)| you ought | not* walk
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Upon | a lab|oring day,| without | the sign
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Of your | profes|sion? Speak,| what trade | art
thou?
FIRST COMMONER
Why sir, a carpenter.
MARULLUS
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Where is | thy leath|er ap|ron, and | thy rule?
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What dost | thou with | thy best | appar|el on?
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You sir,| what trade | are you? \\
SECOND COMMONER
Truly sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but as you would say, a
cobbler.
MARULLUS
But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
SECOND COMMONER
A trade sir, that I hope I may use, with a safe conscience, which is
indeed sir, a mender of bad soles.
MARULLUS
What trade thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
SECOND COMMONER
Nay I beseech you sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out sir, I can
mend you.
MARULLUS
What meanst thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?
SECOND COMMONER
Why sir, cobble you.
FLAVIUS
Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
SECOND COMMONER
Truly sir, all that I live by, is with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's
matters, nor women's matters; but withal 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 neat's leather, have gone upon my handiwork.
FLAVIUS
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But where|fore art | not in | thy shop | today?
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Why dost | thou lead | these men | about | the streets?
SECOND COMMONER
Truly sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But
indeed sir, we make holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
MARULLUS
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Wherefore | rejoice?
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What con|quest brings | he
home?
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What trib|utar|ies fol|low him | to Rome,
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To grace | in cap|tive bonds | his char|iot
wheels?
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You blocks,| you stones,| you worse | than
sense|less things:
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O* you / hard hearts,| you cru|el men | of Rome,
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Knew you | not* Pom|pey ma|ny a time | and oft?
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Have you / climbed up | to walls | and
bat|tlements,
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To towers | and wind|ows? Yea,| to chim|ney tops,
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Your in|fants in | your arms,| and there | have
sat
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The livelong day,| with pa|tient ex|pecta||tion,
??
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To see great Pom|pey pass | the streets | of
Rome:
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And when | you saw | his char|iot but | appear,
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Have you | not made | a un|ivers|al shout,
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That Tib|er trem|bled und|erneath | her banks
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To hear | the rep|lica|tion of | your sounds,
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T T T
Made in her | concave shores? \\
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And do | you now | put^on | your best | attire?
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And do | you now | cull^out | a hol|iday?
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And do | you now | strew flow/ers in | his way,
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That comes | in tri|umph ov|er Pom|pey's blood?
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Be
gone, ????
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Run to | your hous|es, fall | upon | your knees,
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Pray to | the gods | to int|ermit | the plague
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That needs | must light | on this | ingrat|itude.
FLAVIUS
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Go, go, good | countrymen,| and for | this fault,
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Assemb|le all | the poor | men of | your sort;
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Draw them | to Tib|er banks,| and weep | your
tears
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Into | the chan|nel, till | the low|est stream
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Do kiss | the most | exalt|ed shores | of all.
[Exeunt all the Commoners]
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See whether | their bas|est met|al be | not
moved,
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They van|ish tongue-|tied in | their
guilt|iness:
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T T T , , 2
Go you | down that way | towards the | Capitol,
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This way | will I:| disrobe | the im|ages,
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If you do | find them | decked with |
cere|monies.
MARULLUS
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May we | do so? \\
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You know | it is | the feast | of Lup|ercal.
FLAVIUS
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It is / no mat|ter, let | no im|ages
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Be hung | with Cae|sar's troph|ies: I'll | about,
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And drive | away | the vul|gar from | the
streets:
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So do | you too,| where you | perceive | them
thick.
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These grow|ing feath|ers, plucked | from Cae|sar's wing,
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Will make | him fly | an ord|inar|y pitch,
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Who else | would soar | above | the view | of men,
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And keep | us all | in serv|ile fear|fulness.
[Exeunt]