Download this play [Zip file]
FLAVIUSHence! 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 sign
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 5Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
First CommonerWhy, sir, a carpenter.
MARULLUSWhere is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, sir, what trade are you?
Second CommonerAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 10Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,
as you would say, a cobbler.
MARULLUSBut what trade art thou? answer me directly.
Second CommonerA trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
MARULLUSAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 15What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
Second CommonerNay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet,
if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
MARULLUSWhat meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!
Second CommonerWhy, sir, cobble you.
FLAVIUSAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 20Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
Second CommonerTruly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I
meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's
matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon
to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 25recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon
neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.
FLAVIUSBut wherefore art not in thy shop today?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Second CommonerTruly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 30into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday,
to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
MARULLUSWherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 35You 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,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 40Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong 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,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 45That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 50And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone!
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
FLAVIUSAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 55Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 60See whether their basest metal be not moved;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
MARULLUSAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 65May we do so?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
FLAVIUSIt is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 70So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.