Julius Caesar — Act 1, Scene 1

original text and modern English, side by side

Rome. A street · Flavius, Carpenter, Marullus, Cobbler

In the streets of Rome, the tribunes Flavius and Marullus break up a crowd of workmen who have taken the day off to cheer Julius Caesar's triumphal return. Marullus shames them for celebrating the defeat of Pompey, whom they idolized only recently, and the tribunes send them home and go off to strip Caesar's decorations from the public statues. The scene opens the play by showing that Caesar's rise is already frightening powerful Romans.

Enter Flavius, Marullus and a throng of Citizens.

Flavius

Hence!

Get out of here!

home, you idle creatures, get you home.

Go home, you lazy things, go home.

Is this a holiday?

Is today some kind of holiday?

What, know you not,

Being mechanical, you ought not walk

Upon a labouring day without the sign

Of your profession?

Don't you know that working men aren't allowed to walk around on a workday without the tools of their trade?

Speak, what trade art thou?

You there — speak up. What's your trade?

Carpenter

Why, sir, a carpenter.

Why, sir, I'm a carpenter.

Marullus

Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?

Then where's your leather apron and your ruler?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?

What are you doing in your Sunday best?

You, sir, what trade are you?

And you, sir — what's your trade?

Cobbler

Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a

cobbler.

Well, sir, compared to a really skilled craftsman I'm only what you'd call a cobbler.

Marullus

But what trade art thou?

But what is your trade?

Answer me directly.

Give me a straight answer.

Cobbler

A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience, which is

indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

A trade, sir, that I hope I can practise with a clear conscience — I'm a mender of bad soles.

Marullus

What trade, thou knave?

What trade, you rascal?

Thou naughty knave, what trade?

You good-for-nothing rascal, what trade?

Cobbler

Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me;

Please, sir, don't lose your temper with me.

yet, if you be out, sir, I

can mend you.

Though if you're worn out, sir, I can repair you.

Marullus

What mean’st thou by that?

What's that supposed to mean?

Mend me, thou saucy fellow!

Repair me, you cheeky fellow?

Cobbler

Why, sir, cobble you.

Why, sir, patch you up.

Flavius

Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

So you're a cobbler, are you?

Cobbler

Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl;

Honestly, sir, my whole living comes from 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.

I don't meddle in other tradesmen's business, or in women's business either — though I do handle their footwear. I'm a surgeon to worn-out shoes: when they're past saving, I bring them back.

As proper men as ever trod upon neat’s leather have gone upon my

handiwork.

The finest men who ever walked in leather have walked on my handiwork.

Flavius

But wherefore art not in thy shop today?

Then why aren't you in your shop today?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Why are you leading these men through the streets?

Cobbler

Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work.

To wear out their shoes, sir, and get myself more work.

But

indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his

triumph.

But the truth is, we're taking the day off to see Caesar and celebrate his victory.

Marullus

Wherefore rejoice?

Celebrate what?

What conquest brings he home?

What conquest is he bringing home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

What conquered kings are trailing behind him to Rome in chains to decorate his chariot wheels?

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

You blocks of wood, you stones, you things worse than lifeless!

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,

Knew you not Pompey?

Oh, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, have you forgotten 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 livelong day with patient expectation,

To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome.

Again and again you climbed up onto walls and battlements, onto towers and windows, even onto chimney tops, with your babies in your arms, and you sat there all day long waiting patiently just to watch great Pompey ride through 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 when you caught the first glimpse of his chariot, didn't you all roar together loud enough to make the Tiber shake in its banks as the echo came back off its hollow shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?

And now you put on your finest clothes?

And do you now cull out a holiday?

Now you declare a holiday?

And do you now strew flowers in his way,

That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood?

Now you scatter flowers in the path of the man who comes in triumph over Pompey's murdered sons?

Be gone!

Get out of here!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Run home, drop to your knees, and pray the gods spare you the punishment such ingratitude is bound to bring down on you.

Flavius

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.

Go on, go on, good countrymen — and to make up for this offence, gather every poor man like yourselves, take them down to the banks of the Tiber, and cry into the river until even the lowest water rises to touch the highest shore.

Exeunt Citizens.

Flavius

See whether their basest metal be not mov’d;

See how even the coarsest of them is shaken?

They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

They slink off without a word, ashamed.

Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

You go that way, towards the Capitol;

This way will I.

I'll go this way.

Disrobe the images,

If you do find them deck’d with ceremonies.

Strip the decorations off the statues wherever you find them dressed up for the celebration.

Marullus

May we do so?

Are we allowed to?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Today is the feast of Lupercal, remember.

Flavius

It is no matter;

It doesn't matter.

let no images

Be hung with Caesar’s trophies.

Don't let any statue be hung with Caesar's victory trophies.

I’ll about

And drive away the vulgar from the streets;

I'll go round driving the crowds off the streets —

So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

you do the same wherever you find them packed together.

These growing feathers pluck’d from Caesar’s wing

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Pull these new feathers out of Caesar's wing and he'll fly no higher than the rest of us;

Who else would soar above the view of men,

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

otherwise he'll rise out of sight above everyone and keep us all cowering like slaves.

Exeunt.

Julius Caesar Act 1, Scene 1 summary

Who appears in this scene

Flavius, Carpenter, Marullus, Cobbler — Rome. A street.

Famous lines in Julius Caesar Act 1, Scene 1, explained

“You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! / O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, / Knew you not Pompey?” (line 34): Marullus attacks the crowd for cheering Caesar's defeat of Pompey — the same Pompey they once waited all day in the streets to see. Calling them blocks and stones says they are less responsive than rock: at least stone doesn't change its mind. The insult introduces one of the play's central anxieties, that the Roman mob has no loyalty and will swing to whoever is winning — a fact Antony will exploit in Act 3 with far better results than Marullus gets here.
“These growing feathers pluck’d from Caesar’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.” (line 71): Flavius compares Caesar to a bird whose wing feathers are growing in, and the honors the people heap on him are those feathers. Pull them out — strip the statues, break up the crowds — and he stays at a normal height instead of soaring beyond anyone's reach. In four lines Flavius states the conspirators' entire argument before we have even met Brutus or Cassius: Caesar is not yet a tyrant, but if he keeps rising unchecked, everyone else becomes a slave. Note that Flavius and Marullus are silenced for exactly this act, which we learn in 1.2.

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About this translation: the original text follows the public-domain Project Gutenberg Globe edition; the modern English translation was written in-house for Polytranslator and is reviewed on an ongoing basis (last revised August 2026). Free to print and photocopy for classroom use. Cite as: “Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene 1. Polytranslator side-by-side translation, polytranslator.com/shakespeare/julius-caesar/act-1-scene-1.”

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