« PředchozíPokračovat »
conspirators against Julius Cæsar.
servants to Brutus.
CALPHURNIA, wife to Cæsar.
Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.
SCENE-during a great part of the play at Rome; afterwards at Sardis, and
Scene I. Rome. A street.
Enter Flavius, MARULLUS,(1) and a rabble of Citizens. Flav. Hence! 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 Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou ?
First Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.
Mar. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
Sec. 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.
Ι conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Mar.(2) What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave,
what trade? Sec. 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!
Sec. Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.
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 handiwork.
Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ?
Sec. 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?
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
you down that way towards the Capitol ;
Mar. May we do so?
Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Scene II. The same. A public place.
Enter, in procession, with music, CÆSAR ; Antony, for the course ;
CALPHURNIA, Portia, Decius, CICERO, BRUTUS, Cassius, and
[Music ceases. Cæs.
Calphurnia, Cal. Here, my lord.
Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius (3) way, When he doth run his course.-Antonius.
Ant. Cæsar, my lord ?
Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
I shall remember :
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Music.