5 Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
MARULLUS
7 Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
8 What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
9 You, sir, what trade are you?
Second Commoner
10 Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,
11. cobbler: clumsy bungler. (But Second Commoner is making a joke; he really is a cobbler, a repairer of shoes.)
MARULLUS
12 But what trade art thou? answer me directly.
Second Commoner
13 A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
14 conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
MARULLUS
15 What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
Second Commoner
16 Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet,
MARULLUS
18 What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!
FLAVIUS
20 Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
Second Commoner
21 Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I
22 meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's
23 matters, but withawl I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon
FLAVIUS
27 But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
28 Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Second Commoner
29 Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself
30 into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday,
31 to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
MARULLUS
32 Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
33 What tributaries follow him to Rome,
34 To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
35 You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
36 O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
37 Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
40 Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
41 The livelong day, with patient expectation,
42 To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
43 And when you saw his chariot but appear,
44 Have you not made an universal shout,
45 That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
47 Made in her concave shores?
48 And do you now put on your best attire?
49 And do you now cull out a holiday?
51. Pompey's blood: Pompey's kin; i.e., Pompey's sons, who Caesar defeated in the Battle of Munda, March 45 BC.
FLAVIUS
56 Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
57 Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
58 Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
59 Into the channel, till the lowest stream
60 Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
Exeunt all the Commoners.
61 See whether their basest metal be not moved;
61. See . . . moved: i.e., Now we see that their base natures have been moved to tears.65. ceremonies: crowns and other royal regalia. (As a propaganda ploy, Caesar's supporters had set up statues of him in royal regalia.)
MARULLUS
66 May we do so?
67 You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
FLAVIUS
68 It is no matter; let no images
69 Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
71 So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
72 These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
73 Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
73. pitch: height. (A falcon's pitch is the high point in its flight; from its pitch the falcon swoops down on its prey.)
74 Who else would soar above the view of men
75 And keep us all in servile fearfulness.