Cobbler. Truly, Sir, ALL that I live by, is the AWL: I meddle
with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters, but
with-al, I am indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they
are in great danger, I recover them.

Flavius. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why
dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Cobbler. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself
into more work. But indeed. Sir, we make holiday to see
Caesar, and rejoice in his triumph.

To this specimen of quaint low humour immediately follows that
unexpected and animated burst of indignant eloquence, put into the
mouth of one of the angry tribunes.

Marullus. Wherefore rejoice!--What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive-bonds his chariot-wheels?
Oh you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome!
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long 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 his banks