« PoprzedniaDalej »
triumvirs after the death of
conspirators against Julius Ligarius,
Flavius and Marullus, tribunes.
nius; friends to Brutus and Cassius. Varro, Clitus, Claudius, Strato, Lucius, Dardanius;
servants to Brutus. Pindarus, servant to Cassius. Calphurnia, wife to Cæsar, Portia, wife to Brutus.
Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, ác. SCENE, during a great part of the play, at Rome: af.
terwards at Sardis; and near Philippi.
SCENE 1.-Rome. A Street. Enter Flavius, Ma. rullus, and a Rabble of Citizens.
Flavius. HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you homé ; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk, Upon a labouring day, without the sign Of your professioni-Speak, what trade art thou ?
1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter,
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?
% 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
I 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 tbat? Mend me, thoni saucy fellow?
2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.
2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awi: I medalle 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
home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! 0, 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 sat The live-long 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, That Tyber 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? And 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,
That needs inust light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort; Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. [Exc. Citizens. See, whe'r their basest metal be not moy'd; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. Go you
down that way towards the capitol ; This way will í: Disrobe the images, If you
do find them deck'd with ceremonies. Mar. May we do so? You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flar. It is no matter; let no images Be hung with Cæsar's trophics. I'll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets : So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar'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. [Excurt.
SCENE 11.-The same. A public Placc. Enter, in
Procession, with music, Cesar; Antony, for the course ; Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca, a great Crowd following ; among them a Soothsayer. Cies. Calphurnia, Casca.
Peace, ho! Cæsar
[Hiisis cuites Cæs. Calphurnia, Cal.
Here, my lord.
Ant. Cæsar, my lord.
Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonilise To touch Calphurnia: for our eblers say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
I shall remember:
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Music.
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
Cesar. Cæs. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. Socth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him ;-pass.
[Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius.
Brul. I ain not gamesome: I do lack some part
Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late :