Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cob. meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens mat
Cob. ters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
Cob. when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As pro
Cob. per men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vp
Cob. on my handy‑worke.
Fla. Fla.
Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
Fla. Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?
Cob. Cob.
Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
Cob. selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holy
Cob. day to see Cæsar, and to reioyce in his Triumph.
Mur. Mur.
Mur. Wherefore reioyce?
Mur. What Conquest brings he home?
Mur. What Tributaries follow him to Rome,
Mur. To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?
Mur. You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:
Mur. O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,
Mur. Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?