Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ? What doft thou with thy beft apparel on ? You, Sir.What trade are you! Cob. Truly, Sir, in refpect of a fine workman, I am Lut, as you would fay, a cobler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. Cob. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may ufe with a fafe confcience; which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals. Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? Cob. Nay, I befeech 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 cobbler, art thou? Cob. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl. I meddle with no mens' matters, nor woman's matters; but withal I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon told fhoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats leather have gone upon my handy-work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy fhop to-day? Why doft thou lead these men about the streets? - Cob. "Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get "myself into more work." But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice! — what conqueft brings What tributaries follow him to Rome, [he home? To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than fenfelefs 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 pass the streets of Rome. And when you faw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an univerfal fhout, That Tyber trembled underneath his banks And do you now put on your best attire? Be gone. Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for that fault Affemble all the poor men of your fort; Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears Do kifs the moß exalted shores of all. [Exeunt Commoners. See, whe'r their bafeft mettle be not mov'd; They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltinefs. Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol, This way will I; difrobe the images, If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies *. Mar. May we do fo? You know it is the feaft of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter, let no images Be hung with Cæfar's trophies. I'll about, Who elfe would fore above the view of men, And keep us all in fervile fearfulness. [Exeunt feverally Enter Cæfar, Antony, for the courfe, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Cafca, and a Soothsayer. Caf. Calphurnia Cafca. Peace, ho! Cæfar speaks.. Caf. Calphurnia, ceremonies, for religious ornaments. Calp. Here, my Lord. Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course- -Antonius, Ant. Cæfar, my Lord. Cef. Forget not in your fpeed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our elders fay, The barren touched in this holy chace, Shake off their fteril curfe. Ant. I fhall remember. When Cæfar fays, Do this; it is perform'd, Caf. Ha! who calls? Cafca. Bid every noise be still; peace yet again. Caf. What man is that? Bru. A Scothfayer bids you beware the ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his face. Caf. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfar. Caf. What fay'st thou to me now? speak once again. Scoth. Beware the ides of March. Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass. [Exeunt Cæfar and train, SCENE III. Manent Brutus and Caffius. Gaf. Will you go fee the order of the courfe? Bru. Not I. Caf. I pray you, do. Bru. I am not gamefome; I do lack fome part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony: Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires; I'll leave you. Caf. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late; Bru, Caffius, Be not deceiv'd if I have veil'd my look,, I'turn the trouble of my countenance Which give fome foil perhaps to my behaviour: Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your paffion; And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you might fee your fhadow. I have heard, Have wifh'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius,, That you would have me feek into myself For that which is not in me! Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; And fince you know you cannot fee yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glais, Will modeftly difcover to yourfelf That of yourself which yet you know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus : To all the rout; then hold me dangerous. A 35 [Flourish an fhouts. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the people Chufe Cæfar for their King. Gaf. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. Bru. I would not, Caffius; yet I love him well. In awe of fuch a thing as I myself. And bid him follow; fo indeed he did. "The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lufty finews; throwing it afide, «And stemming it with hearts of controverfy "But ere we could arrive the point propos'd," Cæfar cry'd, Help me, Caffius, or 1 fink. 1, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 'The old Anchyfes bear; fo from the waves of Tyber Did 1 the tired Cæfar: and this man Is now become a god, and Caffius is Swimming was one of the generous exercises practifed at Rome and learned by all the youth of the best birth and quality as a ne ceffary qualification towards good feldie, fhip. |