SCENE I.— RoHB. —A Stbbbt

Enter Flavius , Màrullus , and a Rabble of CitMKif s.

Flav, Hence I home, you idle créatures, get yott hemo ; Is this a holiday? Whatt know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not ^alk Upon a labouring day> without the siga Ofyour profession ?^Speak^ whattradè art ^hofi?

1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

JUfar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rul^î What dost thou with thy best stppair^i oaî->- " - You, Sir; what trade are youî

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workmanT I am buty as you would say, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou ? Aqswef noie 4iff<)^ï*

2 CU^ A \ni^i Sir» that I ]Mpo l may vae.willtL a àa£fr conscience; which is, indeed. Sir, a mender of bad soals.

Mar^ Wba^ tirade» thp^ l»v^V0 1 tbm «AU#hl9 kaaiie, what trade?

JULES CÉSAR