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Calphurnia, Wife to Cæfar.
Porcia, Wife to Brutus.

Guards and Attendants.

SCENE, for the three first Alts, wards, at an Ifle near Mutina; Philippi.

at Rome: after

at Sardis
at Sardis; and

Of this play there is no copy earlier than that of 1623. Folio.

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A Street in Rome,

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners. FLAVIU s.

ENCE; 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, Sir, a carpenter.

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

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

Mar. But what trade art thou?

Anfwer me di


Cob. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a fafe confcience; which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.

1 Murellus,] I have, upon the to this tribune, his right name, uthority of Plutarch, &c. given Marullus.


B 2

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. Mend me,


Mar. What mean't thou by that? thou faucy fellow?

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Cob. Why, Sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly, Sir, all, that I live by, is the awl. I meddle with no tradefman's matters, nor woman's matters; but with-all, I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon 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 fhop to-day? Why doft thou lead thefe men about the flreets?

Cob. Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cafar, 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 ftones, you worfe than fenfelefs

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 fate

2 Mar. What mean'st thou by that? As the Cobler, in the preceding fpeech, replies to Flavius, not to Marullus; 'tis plain, I think, this fpeech must be given to Flavius. THEOBALD. A have replaced Marulius, who

might properly enough reply to
a faucy sentence directed to his
colleague, and to whom the
fpeech was probably given, that
he might not ftand too long un-
employed upon the ftage.


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