ACT 1
[Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners]
FLAVIUS
Hence! Home, you idle creatures get you home:
Come on, clear off back home, you lazy buggers!
Is this a holiday? What! Know you not,
D’you think this is a day off? Don’t you know,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
That, as you’re working men, you shouldn’t walk
Upon a labouring day without the sign
About on working days without displaying
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
The clothes of your profession? What’s your job?
FIRST COMMONER
Why, sir, a carpenter.
Why, sir, a carpenter.
MARULLUS
Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
Where is your leather apron and your ruler?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
Why are you dressed up in your finest clothes?
You, sir, what trade are you?
Hey, you, what is your job?
SECOND COMMONER
Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,
Well, sir, compared to more respected workers,
as you would say, a cobbler.
I’m just a humble cobbler.
MARULLUS
But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
But what exactly is your job? Speak clearly!
SECOND COMMONER
A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience;
My job, sir, which may I say that I’m proud of,
which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
is mending broken souls.
MARULLUS
What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?
What is your job, you fool? You cheeky fool!
SECOND COMMONER
Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me:
No, sir, I beg you, don’t be mad with me;
yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
but if your toes stick out your shoes, I’ll fix you.
MARULLUS
What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!
What do you mean, you cheeky chap? You’ll ‘fix’ me?
SECOND COMMONER
Why, sir, cobble you.
Well, sir, by that I mean I’ll cobble you.
FLAVIUS
Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
You are a cobbler, aren’t you?
SECOND COMMONER
Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl:
This hole punch, called an awl, is all I live by.
I meddle with no tradesman's matters,
I meddle in no other tradesman’s business,
nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir,
nor in a woman’s business, nonetheless.
a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger,
I am a surgeon with old shoes: when broken,
I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon
I will repair them. Splendid men have walked
neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.
upon the leather soles that I’ve repaired.
FLAVIUS
But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
But why, today, aren’t you back in your shop?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Why are you leading these men through the streets?
SECOND COMMONER
Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself
In truth, sir, so they all wear out their shoes
into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday,
and thus bring me more work. But, truthfully, sir,
to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
we’re off to celebrate in Caesar’s triumph.
MARULLUS
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
Why are you celebrating? What’s he won?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
Which foreign princes has he overthrown?
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
How many slaves are tied behind his cart?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
You stupid idiots! You imbeciles!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
You heartless bastards, evil men from Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Don’t you remember Pompey? Many times
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
You climbed upon the walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Up towers, to windows, even chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
Your children in your arms, and there you sat
The livelong day, with patient expectation,
All day, waiting in patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
To see great Pompey on the streets of Rome.
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
And when you saw his chariot approaching,
Have you not made an universal shout,
Don’t you remember everybody cheering
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
So loudly that the Tiber River’s depths,
To hear the replication of your sounds
On hearing all the noise, began to shudder
Made in her concave shores?
And caused erosion on the riverbanks?
And do you now put on your best attire?
But aren’t you now dressed in your finest clothing?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And haven’t you just taken one day’s leave?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
And aren’t you throwing flowers in his path
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
To celebrate his murdering of Pompey?
Be gone!
Clear off!
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Run home, and fall upon your knees to pray
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That gods will halt their plague upon you all
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
That you deserve for your ingratitude.
FLAVIUS
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
Go now, good countrymen, and for this fault
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Round up all poor men who are just like you
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
And take them to the Tiber’s banks and cry
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Into the river, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
Has risen to its highest watermark.
[Exeunt all the Commoners]
See whether their basest metal be not moved;
Observe their basic instincts being stirred;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
They disappear in silent guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
You head that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I disrobe the images,
I’m going this way. Clean up Caesar’s statues
If you do find them decked with ceremonies.
If you find them adorned with crowns and flowers.
MARULLUS
May we do so?
Can we do that?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
It’s Lupercal, the feast of birth and honour.
FLAVIUS
It is no matter; let no images
That doesn’t matter. Don’t let any statues
Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll be there
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
To force those awful people from the streets;
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
You do the same for those you think are stupid.
These growing feathers plucked from Caesar's wing
By stopping Caesar’s fans, we’ll clip his wings
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
And bring him down to earth with all of us
Who else would soar above the view of men
Instead of soaring high above us all,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
Repressing us through scared obedience.
[Exeunt]
