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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. 6. 2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soles. 7. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave,
what trade? 8. 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me:
be out, Sir, I can mend you. 9. Mar. What mean'st 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 recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats leather have gone upon my handiwork.
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. 15. 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! O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climbed 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 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?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
16. Flav. Go, 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. [Exeunt CITIZENS.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved !
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I. Disrobe the images,
If you do find them decked with ceremonies. 17. Mar. May we do so?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
18. Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets ;
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers plucked 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.
SCENE II. — The same. A Public Place.
Enter, in Procession with Music, CÆSAR; ANTONY, for the
course ; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS,
CASSIUS, and CASCA, a great crowd following, among
them a SOOTHSAYER.
Casca. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. [Music ceases.
Cæs. Calphurnia, -
Cal. Here, my lord.
23 Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his course. — Antonius.
Ant. Cæsar, my lord.
25. Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
Ant. I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, Do this, it is performed.
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Music.
Cæs. Ha! who calls ?
Casca. Bid every noise be still. — Peace yet again.
[Music ceases. Cæs. Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
Cry, Cæsar. Speak; Cæsar is turned to hear. 32. Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
Cæs. What man is that? 34. 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 BRUTUS and CASSIUS.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru. Not I.
Cas. I pray you, do.
Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you.
44. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late :
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And shew of love as I was wont to have :
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you. 45. Bru. Cassius,
Be not deceived: if I have veiled my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors :
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one);
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shews of love to other men.
46. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means wħereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
47. Bru. No, Cassius : for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
48. Cas. 'Tis just:
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome
(Except immortal Cæsar), speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me!
50. Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:
And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and shout. 51. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people
Choose Cæsar for their king.
Cas. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. 53. Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honor in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honor more than I fear death. +54. Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, Honor is the subject of my story. -
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder pointUpon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roared; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Cæsar cried, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
Did I the tired Cæsar. And this man
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And, when the fit was on him, I did mark