JULIUS CAESAR

Act 1 Scene 1

(Enter Flavius, Murellus, and certain commoners over the stage)
l1l	Flavius	 Hence, home, you idle creatures, get you home!
l2l		Is this a holiday? What, know you not,
l3l		Being mechanical, you ought not walk
l4l		Upon a labouring day without the sign
l5l		Of your profession?—Speak, what trade art thou?
l6l	Carpenter	 Why, sir, a carpenter.
l7l	Murellus	 Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
l8l		What dost thou with thy best apparel on?—
l9l		You, sir, what trade are you?
l10l	Cobbler	 Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman I am
l11l		but, as you would say, a cobbler.
l12l	Murellus	 But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
l13l	Cobbler	 A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe
l14l		conscience, which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
l15l	Flavius	 What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?
l16l	Cobbler	 Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me. Yet
l17l		if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
l18l	Murellus	 What mean’st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?
l19l	Cobbler	 Why, sir, cobble you.
l20l	Flavius	Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
l21l	Cobbler	Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl. I
l22l		meddle with no tradesman’s matters, nor women’s
l23l		matters, but withal I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old
l24l		shoes: when they are in great danger I recover them.
l25l		As proper men as ever trod upon neat’s leather have
l26l		gone upon my handiwork.
l27l	Flavius	 But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
l28l		Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
l29l	Cobbler	 Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get myself
l30l		into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to
l31l		see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
l32l	Murellus	 Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
l33l		What tributaries follow him to Rome
l34l		To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
l35l		You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
l36l		O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
l37l		Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
l38l		Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
l39l		To towers and windows, yea to chimney-tops,
l40l		Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
l41l		The livelong day with patient expectation
l42l		To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome.
l43l		And when you saw his chariot but appear,
l44l		Have you not made an universal shout,
l45l		That Tiber trembled underneath her banks
l46l		To hear the replication of your sounds
l47l		Made in her concave shores?
l48l		And do you now put on your best attire?
l49l		And do you now cull out a holiday?
l50l		And do you now strew flowers in his way
l51l		That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood?
l52l		Be gone!
l53l		Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
l54l		Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
l55l		That needs must light on this ingratitude.
l56l	Flavius	Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault
l57l		Assemble all the poor men of your sort#
l58l		Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
l59l		Into the channel, till the lowest stream
l60l		Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
		(Exeunt all the commoners)
l61l		See whe’er their basest mettle be not moved.
l62l		They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
l63l		Go you down that way towards the Capitol#
l64l		This way will I. Disrobe the images
l65l		If you do find them decked with ceremonies.
l66l	Murellus	May we do so?
l67l		You know it is the Feast of Lupercal.
l68l	Flavius	It is no matter. Let no images
l69l		Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about,
l70l		And drive away the vulgar from the streets#
l71l		So do you too where you perceive them thick.
l72l		These growing feathers plucked from Caesar’s wing
l73l		Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
l74l		Who else would soar above the view of men
l75l		And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
		(Exeunt)