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SCENE I. -Rome. A Street.
Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of Citizens.
HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you home;
1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?
2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.
Mar. But what trade art thou ? Answer me directly.
2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soals. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave,
what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!
2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ?
2 Cit. Truly, 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 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 shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ?
2 Cit. 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
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
poor men of
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the
Mar. May we do so ?
Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Enter, in Procession, with Musick, CÆSAR; ANTONY, for the course ; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, Cassius, and Casca, a great Crowd following; among them a Soothsayer. Cæs. Calphurnia, Casca.
Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks.
"See, whe'r --] Whether
deck'd with ceremonies.] Ceremonies are honorary ornaments; tokens of respect.
3 This person was not Decius, but Decimus Brutus. The poet (as Voltaire has done since) confounds the characters of Marcus
Calphurnia, Cal. Here, my lord.
Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.-Antonius.
Ant. Cæsar, my lord.
Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
I shall remember:
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of
March. Cæs. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon
Cæsar, Cæs. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. He is a dreamer ! let us leave him ;-pass,
[Sennet*. Exeunt all but Bru. and Cas.
and Decimus. Decimus Brutus was the most cherished by Cæsar of all his friends, while Marcus kept aloof, and declined so large a share of his favours and honours, as the other had constantly accepted.
• Sennet.] I have been informed that sennet is derived from senneste, an antiquated French tune formerly used in the army; but the dictionaries which I have consulted exhibit no such word. It may be a corruption from sonata, Ital. STEEVENS.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course ?
Bru. I am not gamesome : I do lack some part
Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late.
Bru. No, Cassius : for the eye sees not itself,
strange a hand -] Strange, is alien, unfamiliar, such as might become a stranger.
passions of some difference,] With a fluctuation of discordant opinions and desires.
1- your passion ;] i. e. the nature of the feelings from which you are now suffering.