Get this No Fear to go!
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20 |
COBBLER
Why, sir, cobble you.
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COBBLER
Cobble you, sir.
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FLAVIUS
Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
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FLAVIUS
You’re a cobbler, are you?
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25 |
COBBLER
Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl. I meddle with no
tradesman’s matters nor women’s matters, but
withal I am
indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes. When they are in great
danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon
neat’s leather have gone upon my handiwork.
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COBBLER
Sir, I make my living using an awl. I stick to my work; I
don’t meddle in politics or chase women. I’m a
surgeon to old shoes. When they’re endangered, I save them.
The noblest men who ever walked on leather have walked on my
handiwork.
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FLAVIUS
But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
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FLAVIUS
But why aren’t you in your shop today? Why are you
leading these men through the streets?
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30 |
COBBLER
Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get myself into more
work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar and to
rejoice in his triumph.
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COBBLER
Well, to wear out their shoes and get myself more work. Seriously,
though, we took the day off to see Caesar, sir, and celebrate his
triumph.
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35 40 45 |
MURELLUS
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things,
O you hard hearts, you cruèl men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong 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 Tiber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
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MURELLUS
Why would you celebrate it? What victory does he bring home? What
foreign lands has he conquered and captive foreigners chained to his
chariot wheels? You blockheads, you unfeeling men! You hard hearts,
you cruel men of Rome, didn’t you know Pompey? Many times
you climbed up on walls and battlements, towers and
windows—even chimney tops—with your babies
in your arms, and sat there patiently all day waiting to see great
Pompey ride through the streets of Rome. And when you caught a
glimpse of his chariot, didn’t you shout so loud that the
river Tiber shook as it echoed? And now you put on your best
clothes? And now you take a holiday?
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