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Octavius Cæfar,

M. Antony,

fid Triumvirs, after the Death of Julius Cæfar.

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SCENE for the three first Acts, at Rome: after wards at an Ile near Mutina; at Sardis; and Philippi.


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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ENCE; home, you idle

creatures. Get you



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

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

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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 on woy ever! Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly, band rody lo mosoly

Cob. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may ufe with a fafe confcience; which is indeed, Sir, a mender of bad foals.

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Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty ais Cob. I befeech you, Sir, r. be n yet if you be out, Sir, I can mend you.

what trade Prod


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

A 2

(2) Mar. What mean'ft thou by that? Mend me, 'ft thou by that? Men thou faucy fellow? 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 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 more work. Sir, we make holiday to fee Cafar, and to rejoice in his triumph. fee Cafar, and, indeed, Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

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What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worfe than fenfelefs
things no wond and W rabbind & sido el
O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome bus quis&
Knew you not Pompey? many a time and oft roqu
Have you
on climb'd
up to walls and battlements,ov 10
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have fate
The live-long day with patient expectation,
To fee great Pompey pass the treets of RomeoY
And d when you faw his chariot but
Have you not made e an univerfal fhout,ores
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,.
Made in his concave fhores ?


And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out an holiday?


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sband and W .col1 (2) Mar. What mean'ft thou by that ?] As the Gobler, in the preceding fpeech, replies to Flavius, not to Marullus; 'tis plain, I think this fpeech must be given to Flavius. THEOBALD.

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


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