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SCENE for the three firft Acts, at Rome: afterwards at an Ille near Mutina; at Sardis; and Philippi.

Folio.

Of this play there is no copy earlier than that of 1623.

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Enter Flavius, (1) Marullus, and certain Commoners.

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Η

HENCE home;

FLAVIUS.

home, you

idle creatures. Get you

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Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day without the fign

Of

your profeffion? Speak, what trade art thou?
Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?Y What doft thou with thy beft apparel on ?

You, Sir, what trade are you?

Cob. Truly, Sir, in refpect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would fay, a cobler.at Jon Hoy ever) Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me di

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Cob. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may ufe with a fafe confcience; which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals. Svented as 200 122 won woy 65 5A Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade P

Cob. Nay, I befeech you, Sir, be not out with me; be out, Sir, I can mend you.

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yet if yo

(1) Murellus, I have, upon the authority of Plutarch, &c. given to this tribune, his right name, Marullus.

A 2

(2) Mar; What mean'st thou by that ? Mend me,

thou faucylander

Cob. Why, Sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly, Sir, all, that I live by, is the awl. I meddle with no tradefman's matters, nor woman's matters; but with-all, I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old shoes; when en they are in great danger, I recover 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 doft thou lead these men about the streets? Cob. Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get myfelf into more work. Sir, we make holiday to fee Cafar, and to rejoice in his triumph. avto trejindeed, Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conqueft brings he

home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worfe than fenfelefs
things!
ON HOW
yalind & cids el
O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome but guis&
Knew you not Pompey? many a time and oft roqu
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 fate
The live-long day with patient expectation,ob indy!
To fee great Pompey pass the streets of Rome;
And when you faw his chariot but appear, and
Have you not made an univerfal fhout, usud win
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your founds, ylber
Made in his concave fhores?

07

Y

And do you now put on your beft attire e st And do you now cull out an holiday?

sher and Wuoli (2) Mar. What mean'st thou by that ?] As the Gobler, in the preceding fpeech, replies to Flavius, not to Marullus; 'tis plain, think this fpeech must be given to Flavius.

THEOBALD.

I have replaced Marullus, who might properly enough reply to a faucy sentence directed to his collegue, and to whom the. fpeech was probably given, that he might not stand too long unemployed upon the stage.

And

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