<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<FLAVIUS>	<0%>
	Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home:
	Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
	Being mechanical, you ought not walk
	Upon a labouring day without the sign
	Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
</FLAVIUS>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><1%>
<FLAVIUS>	<1%>
	Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
</FLAVIUS>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 1><1%>
<FLAVIUS>	<2%>
	But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
	Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
</FLAVIUS>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 1><2%>
<FLAVIUS>	<3%>
	Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault
	Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
	Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
	Into the channel, till the lowest stream
	Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt all the Commoners.>
</STAGE DIR>
	See whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
	They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
	Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
	This way will I. Disrobe the images
	If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
</FLAVIUS>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 1><2%>
<FLAVIUS>	<3%>
	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 soar above the view of men
	And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
</FLAVIUS>

