Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.
[Act 1, Scene 1]
Enter Flauius, Murellus, and
certaine Commoners
ouer the Stage.
Flauius.HEnce: home you idle Creatures, get you
home:
Is this a Holiday? What, know you not(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walkeVpon a labouring day, without the signe
[5]
Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?Car.Why Sir, a Carpenter.Mur.Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?You sir, what Trade are you?Cobl.
[10]
Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am
but as you would
say, a Cobler.
Mur.But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly.Cob.
A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe
Conscience,
which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules.
Fla.
[15]
What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,
what Trade?
Cobl.
Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet
if you be out
Sir, I can mend you.
Mur.
What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou
[20]
sawcy Fellow?
Cob.
Why sir, Cobble you.
Fla.
Thou art a Cobler, art thou?
Cob.
Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I
meddle with
no Tradesmans matters, nor womens mat
[25]
ters; but withal I
am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
when they are in great
danger, I recouer them. As pro
per men as euer trod vpon
Neats Leather, haue gone vp
on my
handy‑worke.
Fla.But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
[30]
Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?Cob.
Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
selfe into more
worke. But indeede sir, we make Holy
day to see
Cæsar, and to reioyce in his Triumph.
Mur.Wherefore reioyce?
[35]
What Conquest brings he home?What Tributaries follow him to Rome,To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,
[40]
Knew you not
Pompey many a time and oft?
Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sateThe liue‑long day, with patient expectation,
To see great
Pompey passe the streets of
Rome:
And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankesTo heare the replication of your sounds,
[50]
Made in her Concaue Shores?And do you now put on your best attyre?And do you now cull out a Holyday?And do you now strew Flowers in his way,That comes in Triumph ouer
Pompeyes blood?
[55]
Be gone,Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,Pray to the Gods to intermit the plagueThat needs must light on this Ingratitude.Fla.Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault
[60]
Assemble all the poore men of your sort;Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your tearesInto the Channell, till the lowest streameDo kisse the most exalted Shores of all.Exeunt all the
Commoners.
See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,
[65]
They vanish tongue‑tyed in their guiltinesse:Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,This way will I: Disrobe the Images,If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies.Mur.May we do so?
[70]
You know it is the Feast of Lupercall.Fla.It is no matter, let no ImagesBe hung with
Cæsars T
ophees: Ile about,
And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.
[75]
These growing Feathers, pluckt from
Cæsars wing,
Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,Who else would soare aboue the view of men,And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.Exeunt.
[Act 1, Scene 2]
Enter Cæsar, Antony for
the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, De
cius, Cicero, Brutus,
Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: af
ter them Murellus and
Flauius.
Cæs.Calphurnia.
Cask.
[80]
Peace ho,
Cæsar speakes.
Cæs.Calphurnia.
Calp.Heere my Lord.Cæs.Stand you directly in
Antonio's way,
When he doth run his course.
Antonio.
Ant.
[85]
Cæsar, my Lord.Cæs.Forget not in your speed
Antonio,
To touch
Calphurnia: for our Elders say,
kkThe
Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.
[Act 1, Scene 1]
Enter Flauius, Murellus, and
certaine Commoners
ouer the Stage.
Flauius.HEnce: home you idle Creatures, get you
home:
Is this a Holiday? What, know you not(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walkeVpon a labouring day, without the signe
[5]
Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?Car.Why Sir, a Carpenter.Mur.Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?You sir, what Trade are you?Cobl.
[10]
Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am
but as you would
say, a Cobler.
Mur.But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly.Cob.
A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe
Conscience,
which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules.
Fla.
[15]
What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,
what Trade?
Cobl.
Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet
if you be out
Sir, I can mend you.
Mur.
What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou
[20]
sawcy Fellow?
Cob.
Why sir, Cobble you.
Fla.
Thou art a Cobler, art thou?
Cob.
Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I
meddle with
no Tradesmans matters, nor womens mat
[25]
ters; but withal I
am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
when they are in great
danger, I recouer them. As pro
per men as euer trod vpon
Neats Leather, haue gone vp
on my
handy‑worke.
Fla.But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
[30]
Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?Cob.
Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
selfe into more
worke. But indeede sir, we make Holy
day to see
Cæsar, and to reioyce in his Triumph.
Mur.Wherefore reioyce?
[35]
What Conquest brings he home?What Tributaries follow him to Rome,To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,
[40]
Knew you not
Pompey many a time and oft?
Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sateThe liue‑long day, with patient expectation,
[45]
To see great
Pompey passe the streets of
Rome:
And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankesTo heare the replication of your sounds,
[50]
Made in her Concaue Shores?And do you now put on your best attyre?And do you now cull out a Holyday?And do you now strew Flowers in his way,That comes in Triumph ouer
Pompeyes blood?
[55]
Be gone,Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,Pray to the Gods to intermit the plagueThat needs must light on this Ingratitude.Fla.Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault
[60]
Assemble all the poore men of your sort;Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your tearesInto the Channell, till the lowest streameDo kisse the most exalted Shores of all.Exeunt all the
Commoners.
See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,
[65]
They vanish tongue‑tyed in their guiltinesse:Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,This way will I: Disrobe the Images,If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies.Mur.May we do so?
[70]
You know it is the Feast of Lupercall.Fla.It is no matter, let no ImagesBe hung with
Cæsars T
ophees: Ile about,
And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.
[75]
These growing Feathers, pluckt from
Cæsars wing,
Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,Who else would soare aboue the view of men,And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.Exeunt.
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="1">
<head rend="italic center">Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.</head>
<head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 1]</head>
<cb n="1"/>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners
<lb/>ouer the Stage.</stage>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic center">Flauius.</speaker>
<l n="1">
<c rend="droppedCapital">H</c>Ence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:</l>
<l n="2">Is this a Holiday? What, know you not</l>
<l n="3">(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke</l>
<l n="4">Vpon a labouring day, without the signe</l>
<l n="5">Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-car">
<speaker rend="italic">Car.</speaker>
<l n="6">Why Sir, a Carpenter.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Mur.</speaker>
<l n="7">Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?</l>
<l n="8">What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?</l>
<l n="9">You sir, what Trade are you?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cobl.</speaker>
<p n="10">Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am
<lb n="11"/>but as you would say, a Cobler.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Mur.</speaker>
<l n="12">But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cob.</speaker>
<p n="13">A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe
<lb n="14"/>Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic">Fla.</speaker>
<p n="15">What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,
<lb n="16"/>what Trade?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cobl.</speaker>
<p n="17">Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet
<lb n="18"/>if you be out Sir, I can mend you.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Mur.</speaker>
<p n="19">What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou
<lb n="20"/>sawcy Fellow?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cob.</speaker>
<p n="21">Why sir, Cobble you.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic">Fla.</speaker>
<p n="22">Thou art a Cobler, art thou?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cob.</speaker>
<p n="23">Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I
<lb n="24"/>meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens mat
<lb n="25"/>ters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
<lb n="26"/>when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As pro
<lb n="27"/>per men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vp
<lb n="28"/>on my handy‑worke.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic">Fla.</speaker>
<l n="29">But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?</l>
<l n="30">Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-cob">
<speaker rend="italic">Cob.</speaker>
<p n="31">Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
<lb n="32"/>selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holy
<lb n="33"/>day to see Cæsar, and to reioyce in his Triumph.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Mur.</speaker>
<l n="34">Wherefore reioyce?</l>
<l n="35">What Conquest brings he home?</l>
<l n="36">What Tributaries follow him to Rome,</l>
<l n="37">To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?</l>
<l n="38">You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:</l>
<l n="39">O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,</l>
<l n="40">Knew you not<hi rend="italic">Pompey</hi>many a time and oft?</l>
<l n="41">Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,</l>
<l n="42">To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,</l>
<l n="43">Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate</l>
<l n="44">The liue‑long day, with patient expectation,</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="45">To see great<hi rend="italic">Pompey</hi>passe the streets of Rome:</l>
<l n="46">And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,</l>
<l n="47">Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,</l>
<l n="48">That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes</l>
<l n="49">To heare the replication of your sounds,</l>
<l n="50">Made in her Concaue Shores?</l>
<l n="51">And do you now put on your best attyre?</l>
<l n="52">And do you now cull out a Holyday?</l>
<l n="53">And do you now strew Flowers in his way,</l>
<l n="54">That comes in Triumph ouer<hi rend="italic">Pompeyes</hi>blood?</l>
<l n="55">Be gone,</l>
<l n="56">Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,</l>
<l n="57">Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague</l>
<l n="58">That needs must light on this Ingratitude.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic">Fla.</speaker>
<l n="59">Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault</l>
<l n="60">Assemble all the poore men of your sort;</l>
<l n="61">Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares</l>
<l n="62">Into the Channell, till the lowest streame</l>
<l n="63">Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.</l>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt all the Commoners.</stage>
<l n="64">See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,</l>
<l n="65">They vanish tongue‑tyed in their guiltinesse:</l>
<l n="66">Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,</l>
<l n="67">This way will I: Disrobe the Images,</l>
<l n="68">If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Mur.</speaker>
<l n="69">May we do so?</l>
<l n="70">You know it is the Feast of Lupercall.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-jc-fla">
<speaker rend="italic">Fla.</speaker>
<l n="71">It is no matter, let no Images</l>
<l n="72">Be hung with<hi rend="italic">Cæsars</hi>T<gap extent="1"
unit="chars"
reason="illegible"
agent="partiallyInkedType"
resp="#LMC"/>ophees: Ile about,</l>
<l n="73">And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;</l>
<l n="74">So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.</l>
<l n="75">These growing Feathers, pluckt from<hi rend="italic">Cæsars</hi>wing,</l>
<l n="76">Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,</l>
<l n="77">Who else would soare aboue the view of men,</l>
<l n="78">And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>