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PRINTED FOR BELL & BRADFUTE, J. DICKSON,..

W. CREECH, J. & J. FAIRBAIRN, AND

T. DUNCAN, BOOKSELLERS.

160920

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS. 1899.

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Messala, friends to Brutus and

Treinius, S Caffius.

Strato,

Lucrus,

fervants to Brutus.

Pindarus, fervant to Cafius.

Ghost of Julius Cæfar.

Cobler.

Carpenter.

Other Plebeians.

Calphurnia, wife to Cafar.

Portia, quife to Brutus.

Artemidorus, a fophift of Cuidos. I Guards and Attendants.

SCENE, for the three first acts, at Rome; afterwards, at an ite Anear Mutina, at Sardis, and Philippi.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A ftreet in Rome.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.

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 profeffion? Speak, what trade art thou?
VOL. VII.

A

Car.

Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, Sir, What trade are you?

Cob. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would fay, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. Cob. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a fafe confcience; which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.

Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

Cob. Nay, I heseech you, Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out, Sir, I can mend you.

Flav. What mean'st thou by that? mend me, thou faucy fellow?

Cob. Why, Sir, coble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl. I meddle with no mens' matters, nor woman's matters; but withal I am, indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-lether 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?

Cob. "Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get " myself into more work." But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice! - what conquest brings he What tributaries follow him to Rome, [home? To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than fenfeless things! O 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 fat The live-long day with patient expectation, To fee great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. And when you faw his chariot but appear,

1

Have you not made an universal shout,

7. That

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