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PRINTED FOR BELL & BRADFUTE, J. DICKSON,,
W. CREECH, J. &... FAIRBALEN, AND

T, DUNCAN, BOOKSELLERS.

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JULIUS CÆSAR.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

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Jolios CESAR.

A Soothfaryer. Odavius Cæsar,

Triumvirs Young Cato. M. Antony,

after thedeath Cinna, a poet. Le

Lucilius, Cicero,

Dardanius, Brutus,

Volumnius, ! Cassius,

Varro, Calca,

fervants to Brutus. Clitus,

conspirators Claudius, Treborius, agains? Hve Strato, Ligarius,

lius Cæjar. | Lucius, Decius Brutus, Mereilas Cimber,

Pindarus, forvant to Cafius. Cinna,

J

Ghost of Julius Cæsar.
Popilius Læ01,2

Cobler.
Senators.
Publius,

Carpenter.
Flavius,

Ti ibunes, and ene- Other Plebeians. Marullus, mies to Cæfur.

Calphurnia, roife to Cæfar.
Messala, friends to Brutus and

Portia, quife to Brutus.
Titinius, $ Collies.
Artemidorus, a fophift of Cuidos.

Guards and Attendants.

SCENE, for the tree forft asis, at Rome; afterwards, at an ifte

near Mutina, at Sardis, and Philippi.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A freet in Rome.

Enter. Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.

Flar. HENCE ; home, you idle creatures, get your

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.

А

Car.

Car. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy beft 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.

Alar. But what trade art thou? Anfwer me directly.

Cob. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience ; which is indeed, Sir, a nender of bad foals.

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

Cob. Nay, I beseech 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 mnens' 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 doft 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 see Cæsar, 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 senseless 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 see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout,

That

That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores ?
And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you dow cull out an-holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood !
Be

gone
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods, to interniit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude:

Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for that fault
Asemble all the poor men of your fort ;
Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kifs the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Commoners.
See, whe'r their baseft mettle be not mov'd ;
They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol,
This way will I ; difrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies ti

Mar. May we do fo ?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter, let no images
Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive

away the vulgar from the streets :
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would foar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE II.
Enter Cefar, Antony, for the course, Calpburnia, Por:

tia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cafius, Cafca, and a
Soothsayer.
Caf. Calphurnia,
Casca. Peace, ho! Cæfar speaks.
Caf. Calphurnia,

Calp. t ceremonies, for religious ornaments.

A 2

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