Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners
Flavius. 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?
First Commoner. Why, sir, a carpenter.
Marullus. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, sir, what trade are you?
Second Commoner. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.
Marullus. But what trade art thou? answer me directly.
Second Commoner. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
Marullus. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
Second Commoner. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
Marullus. What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!
Second Commoner. Why, sir, cobble you.
Flavius. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
Second Commoner. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman’s matters, nor women’s matters, but with awl. 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.
Flavius. But wherefore art not in thy shop today? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?