V w Class. 7:^ Book Ji^JJ-A^ coe^BiGMr i>£P08m ^, A5^ ■c-t / Look you here, Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors. — Act III. Scene 2. ^^t ^caliemg Classics SHAKESPEARE JULIUS C^SAR EDITED WITH A LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE, AN ACCOUNT OF THE THEATRE IN HIS TIME, AND NUMEROUS AIDS TO THE STUDY OF THE PLAY BY SAMUEL THURBER, Jr. NEWTON TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL, NEWTONVILLE MASSACHUSETTS ALLYN AND BACON ^^^^^o' COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY SAMUEL THURBER, Jr. /- FEB2t3'iyi9 Notbjootj Iprcsis J. S. Gushing Co. —Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. FOREWORD In revising my father's edition of '* Julius Caesar," I ^ have been influenced by changed conditions of English r^ teaching in high schools since the time when his work was j- done. The greater number of pupils, the consequent in- adequacy of reference material, the more general and less specialized literary preparation, and the broader aims and ideals of the rising generation, — all these conditions de- mand a different type of annotation from that of twenty- five years ago. My own recent problems in teaching '^ Julius Caesar" with college preparatory, commercial, and technical classes have led me to include in the present edition the following six features not found in my father's work : a fuller and more informational array of notes ; a study of the structural elements of the play ; a discussion of the sources of the tragedy, withnumerous quotations from North's " Plutarch " ; a list of famiUar quotations from '' Julius Caesar " ; an account of Shakespeare, the man, — his life, work, repu- tation, and the theatre for which he wTote ; and finally a list of practical, usable topics for oral and written compo- sition. These six new features will be found in the appen- dix following the text of the play. It is hoped that this additional material will not only in- crease the interest of the student, but that it will also lighten the labor of the teacher. Samuel Thurber, Jr. iii CONTENTS PAGE List of Illustrations '. v Milton's "Shakespeare" vii List of Characters viii, 98 JULIUS C^SAR 1 Appendix The Writing and Publication of *' Julius Caesar " Sources of " Julius Caesar "... Selections from North's " Plutarch " . Familiar Passages in " Julius Caesar " What We Know about Shakespeare . Shakespeare's Plays and Poems Shakespeare's Popularity in His Own Day Shakespeare's Fame since His Death The Theatre of Shakespeare's Day . Books of Interest to Students of Shakespeare Explanatory Notes . . . . Subjects for Oral and Written Compositions 101 103 108 116 119 132 146 151 160 182 185 263 IV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Look you here. Here is himself , marred, as you see, with traitors. — Act III, Scene 2 . . Frontispiece PAGB Speak, what trade art thou ? — Act I, Scene 1 1 Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me, and went surly by. — Act I, Scene 3 16 O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. — Act II, Scene 2 . , . . 34 constancy, be strong upon my side. — Act II, Scene 4 .... 39 And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, Lefs all cry ' ' Peace, freedom, and liberty / " — Act III, Scene 1 . . . .47 Welcome, Mark Antony. — Act III, Scene 1 . . . .49 Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony. — Act III, Scene 2 . . . .56 He shall not Hue ; look, with a spot I damn him. — Act IV, Scene 1 .... 66 Thou shall see me at Philippi. — Act IV, Scene 3 .... 81 List of Illustrations. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. — Act V, Scene 1 Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the spur. — Act V, Scene 3 This was the noblest Roman of them all. — Act V, Scene 5 83 89 . 96 FACING PAGE . 122 Shakespeare's House at Stratford-on-Avon .... The Room where Shakespeare Was Born .... 122 Anne Hathaway's Cottage at Shottery 124 Interior of Anne Hathaway's Cottage 124 Holy Trinity Parish Church, Stratford-on-Avon . . . 130 Inscription on Shakespeare's Tomb ...... 130 Inscription on Shakespeare's Monument, Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon ........ 130 The Globe Theatre . . . 168 , Interior of an Elizabethan Theatre ...... 168 VI SHAKESPEARE What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones The labor of an age in pil^d stones ? Or that his hallowed rehques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a live-long monument. For whilst to the shame of slow-endeavoring art Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; And, so sepiilchred, in such pomp dost lie That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. JOHN MILTON. Vll JULIUS C^SAR. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. Julius C^sar, A Soothsayer. triumvirs CiNNA, a Poet. Another Poet. OCTAVIUS C^SAR, after the LUCILIUS, Marcus Antonius, death of TiTINIUS, friends to M. iEMiLius Lepidus, Julius Messala, Brutus and Caesar. Young Cato, Cassius. Cicero, ^ VOLUMNIUS, PuBLius, senators. Varro, PopiLius Lena, J Clitus, Marcus Brutus, Claudius, servants to Cassius, Strato, Brutus. Casca, conspirators Lucius, Trebonius, against Dardanius, LiGARIUS, Julius Pindarus, servant to Cassius. Decius Brutus, Caesar. « Calpurnia, wife to Caesar. Metellus Cimber, Portia, wife to Brutus. CiNNA, J Senators, Citizens, Guards, At- Flavius and Marullus, tri- tendants, etc. bunes. Scene : Rome; the neighborhood Artemidorus of Cnidos, a of Sardis ; ,the neighborhood teacher of Rhe tor ic. of Philippi, ACT I. Scene I. Rome. A Street. Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners. Flav. Hence ! home, you idle creatures, get you home : Is this a holiday ? what ! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk Upon a laboring day without the sign Of your profession ? Speak, what trade art thou ? 5 Speak, what trade art thou ? — Act I. Scene I. First Com, Why, sir, a carpenter. Mar, Where is thy leather apron and thy rule ? What dost thou with thy best apparel on ? You, sir, what trade are you ? I Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 1. Sec. Com. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou ? answer me directly. Sec, Com, A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience ; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Mar. What trade, thou knave ? thou naughty knave, what trade ? Sec, Com. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me : yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow ! Sec. Com, Why, sir, cobble you. 20 Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ? Sec, Com, 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. Flav, But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ? Sec, Com. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holi- day to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice ? What conquest brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels ? 35 You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, 2 Act I, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 40 Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The Hve-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, 45 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 ? 50 And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey 's blood? Be gone ! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees. Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 55 That needs must light on this ingratitude. Flav. 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 60 Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. \_Exeunt all the Commoners, See, whether their basest metal be not moved ; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. Go you down that way towards the Capitol ; This way will I : disrobe the images, 65 If you do find them decked wdth ceremonies. Mar. May we do so ? You know it is the feast of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter ; let no images Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, 70 3 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2. And drive away the vulgar from the streets : So do you too, where you perceive them thick. >^hese growing feathers plucked from Caesar's wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men 75 And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt, Scene II. A public place. Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, /(^r the course; Cal- PURNIA, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca ; a great crowd following^ among them a Soothsayer. Cces. Calpurnia ! Casca. Peace, ho ! Caesar speaks. Cces. Calpurnia ! CaL Here ! my lord. Cces. Stand you directly in Antonius' way. When he doth run his course. Antonius ! Ant. Caesar, my lord ? Cces. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch 'Calpurnia ; for our elders say. The barren, touched in this holy chase. Shake off their sterile curse. Ant. I shall remember : When Caesar says " do this," it is performed. 10 Cces. Set on ; and leave no ceremony out. [Flourish, Sooth. Caesar I • Cces. Ha ! who calls ? Casca. Bid every noise be still : peace yet again ! Cces. Who is it in the press that calls on me ? 15 4 Act I, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry " Caesar ! " Speak ; Caesar is turned to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. CcEs. What man is that ? Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. Cces, Set him before me ; let me see his face. 20 Cas. Fellow, come from the throng ; look upon. Caesar. CcEs, What say'st thou to me now ? speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cces, He is a dreamer ; let us leave him : pass. \_Sennet. Exeimt all but Brutus and Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course ? 25 Bru. Not I. Cas. I pray you, do. Bru. I am not gamesome : I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires ; 30 I'll leave you. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late : I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have : You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand 35 Over your friend that loves you. Bru. Cassius, Be not deceived : if I have veiled my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Merely upon myself. Vexed I am Of late with passions of some difference, 40 Conceptions only proper to myself. Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors ; But let not therefore my good friends be grieved — . Among which number, Cassius, be you one — 5 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2. Nor construe any further my neglect, 45 Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war. Forgets the shows of love to other men. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion ; By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. 50 Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face ? Bru. No, Cassius ; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things. Cas, 'T is just : And it is very much lamented, Brutus, 55 That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye. That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus 60 And groaning underneath this age's yoke, Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes. Brti. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me ? 65 Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear : And since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass. Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. 70 And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus : Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new protester ; if you know That I do fawn on men and hug them hard, 75 And after scandal them ; or if you know 6 Act I, Scene 2. JuHus Caesar. That I profess myself in banqueting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. \Flourish and shout. Bru. What means this shouting ? I do fear, the people Choose Caesar for their king. Cas. Ay, do you fear it ? 80 Then must I think you would not have it so. Brti, I would not, Cassius ; yet I love him well. But wherefore do you hold me here so long ? What is it that you would impart to me ? If it be ought toward the general good, 85 Set honor in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently : For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honor more than I fear death. Cas, I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 90 As well as I do know your outward favor. Well, honor is the subject of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life ; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be 95 In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Caesar ; so were you : We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter's cold as well as he : For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 100 The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Caesar said to me, " Barest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ? " Upon the word. Accoutred as I was, I plunged in 105 And bade him follow ; so indeed he did. 7 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2 The torrent roared, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy ; But ere we could arrive the point proposed, Caesar cried, ^' Help me, Cassius, or I sink 1 " I, as Tineas, our great ancestor. Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber Did I the tired Caesar : and this man 115 Is now become a god, and Cassius is A wretched creature and must bend his body. If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark 120 How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their color fly. And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans 125 Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried, ^' Give me some drink, Titinius," As a sick girl. Ye gods ! it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world 130 And bear the palm alone. {^Shout. Flourish. Bru. Another general shout 1 I do believe that these applauses are For some new honors that are heaped on Caesar. Cas, Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 135 Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 8 Act I, Scene 2. JuIius Caesar. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 140 But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar : what should be in that " Caesar" ? Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 145 Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit soon as Caesar. Now, in the names of all the gods at once,- Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great ? Age, thou art shamed ! 150 Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! When went there by an age, since the great flood. But it was famed with more than with one man ? When could they say till now, that talked of Rome, That her wide walls encompassed but one man ? 155 Now is it Rome indeed and room enough. When there is in it but one only man. O, you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once that would have brooked The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 160 As easily as a king. Bru, That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; What you would work me to, I have some aim : How I have thought of this and of these times, I shall recount hereafter ; for this present, 165 I would not, so with love I might entreat you. Be any further moved. What you have said I will consider ; what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time Both meet to hear and answer such high things. 170 9 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2. Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this : Brutus had rather be a villager Than to repute himself a son of Rome Under these hard conditions as this time Is like to lay upon us. 175 Cas, I am glad that my weak words Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. Bi'u, The games are done and Caesar is returning. Cas, As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve ; And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you 180 What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. Re-enter Caesar and his Train. Bru. I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train : Calpurnia's cheek is pale ; and Cicero 185 Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being crossed in conference by some senators. Cas, Casca will tell us what the matter is. Cces. Antonius ! 190 Ant. Caesar ? Cces, Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights : Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look ; He thinks too much : such men are dangerous. 195 Ant, Fear him not, Caesar ; he's not dangerous ; He is a noble Roman and well given. C(£s. Would he were fatter ! But I fear him not : Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid 200 10 Act I, Scene 2. JuHus Caesar. So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music ; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort 205 As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous. 210 I rather tell thee what is to be feared Than what I fear ; for always I am Caesar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf. And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. \_Sennet, Exeunt Ccesar and all his Train but Casca, Casca. You pulled me by the cloak ; would you speak with me ? Bru, Ay, Casca ; tell us what hath chanced to-day. That Caesar looks so sad. Casca, Why, you were with him, were you not ? 218 Bru, I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. Casca, Why, there was a crown offered him : and be- ing offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus ; and then the people fell a-shouting. Bru, What was the second noise for ? Casca, Why, for that too. Cas, They shouted thrice ; what was the last cry for ? Casca. Why, for that too. Bru, Was the crown offered him thrice ? ^ Casca, Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other ; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbors shouted. 230 II Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2. Cas. Who offered him the crown ? Casca. Why, Antony. Brii, Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca, I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it : it was mere foolery ; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown; — yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets ; — and, as I told you, he put it by once : but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again ; then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refused it, the rabblement shouted and clapped their chopt hands and threw up their sweaty nightcaps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar re- fused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it ; and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiv- ing the bad air. 249 Cas, But, soft, I pray you : what, did Caesar swound ? Casca, He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless. B^u, 'Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness. Ccus. No, Caesar hath it not ; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. 255 Casca, I know not what you mean by that ; but, I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and dis- pleased them, as they used to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. 260 Bru, What said he when he came unto himself ? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived 12 Act I, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said. If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infir- mity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, '' Alas, good soul!" and forgave him with all their hearts : but there's no heed to be taken of them ; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. 273 Bru, And after that, he came, thus sad, away ? Casca. Ay. Cas, Did Cicero say any thing ? Casca, Ay, he spoke Greek. Cas, To what effect 1 278 Casca, Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again : but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: MaruUus and Flavins, for pulling scarfs off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. 285 Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca ? Casca, No, I am promised forth. Cas, Will you dine with me to-morrow ? Casca, Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating. 290 Cas, Good : I will expect you. Casca. Do so. Farewell, both. \^Exit, Bru, What a blunt fellow is this grown to be ! He was quick mettle when he went to school. 13 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 2. Cas. So is he now in execution 295 Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite. 300 Bru, And so it is. For this time I will leave you : To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you ; or, if you wall, Come home to me, and I will wait for you. Cas, I will do so : till then, think of the world. 305 [Exit Brutus, Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yet, I see, Thy honorable metal may be wrought From that it is disposed : therefore it is meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes ; For who so firm that cannot be seduced ? 310 Caesar doth bear me hard ; but he loves Brutus : If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, He should not humor me. I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw. As if they came from several citizens, 315 Writings all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name ; wherein obscurely Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at : And after this let Caesar seat him sure ; 319 For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit. H Act I, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Scene III. The same. A street. Thunder and lightning. Enter ^ from opposite sides ^ Casca, with his sword drawn^ and Cicero. Cic. Good even, Casca : brought you Caesar home ? Why are you breathless ? and why stare you so ? Casca. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm ? O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 5 Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds : But never till to-night, never till now. Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 10 Either there is a civil strife in heaven. Or else the world, too saucy with the gods. Incenses them to send destruction. Cic. Why, saw you anything more wonderful ? Casca, A common slave — you know him well by sight — Held up his left hand, w^hich did flame and burn Like twenty torches joined, and yet his hand. Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched. Besides — I ha' not since put up my sword — Against the Capitol I met a lion, 20 Who glared upon me, and went surly by. Without annoying me: and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women. Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. 25 And yesterday the bird of night did sit Even at noon-day upon the market place, 15 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 3. Hooting and shrieking. When those prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, " These are their reasons ; they are natural ; " 30 Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me, and went surly by. — Act I. Scene 3. For, I believe, they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon. Cic, Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time : But men may construe things after their fashion. Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow ? Casca. He doth ; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. 16 35 Act I, Scene 3. JuHus Caesar. Cic. Good night, then, Casca : this disturbed sky Is not to walk in. Casca. Farewell, Cicero. \Exit Cicero. 40 Enter Cassius. Cas, Who's there ? Casca. A Roman. Cas. Casca, by your voice. Casca. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this 1 Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men. Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so ? Cas, Those that have known the earth so full of faults. For my part, I have walked about the streets, Submitting me unto the perilous night, And thus unbraced, Casca, as you see. Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone ; And when the cross blue lightning seemed to open 50 The breast of heaven, I did present myself Even in the aim and very flash of it. [heavens ? Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the It is the part of men to fear and tremble, When the most mighty gods by tokens send 55 Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. Cas ^r,Yow are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life That should be in a Roman you do want, Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, 60 To see the strange impatience of the heavens : But if you would consider the true cause Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts. Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, Why old men fool and children calculate, 65 17 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 3. Why all these things change from their ordinance Their natures and preformed faculties, To monstrous quality, why, you shall find That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, To make them instruments of fear and warning 70 Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man Most like this dreadful night. That thunders, Hghtens, opens graves, and roars As doth the lion in the Capitol ; 75 A man no mightier than thyself or me In personal action, yet prodigious grown And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. Casca. 'Tis Caesar that you mean ; is it not, Cassius ? Cas, Let it be who it is : for Romans now 80 Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; But, woe the while ! our fathers' minds are dead, And we are governed with our mothers' spirits ; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. Casca. Indeed, they say the senators to-morrow 85 Mean to establish Caesar as a king ; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land. In every place save here in Italy. Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger then ; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius : 90 Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat : No stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit ; 95 But life, being weary of these worldly bars. Never lacks power to dismiss itself. 18 Act I, Scene 3. JuHus Caesar. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure. \Thunder stilL Casca. So can I : loo So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity. Cas. And why should Caesar be a tyrant then ? Poor man ! I know he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep : 105 He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws : what trash is Rome, What rubbish and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate no So vile a thing as Caesar ! But, O grief. Where hast thou led me ? I perhaps speak this Before a willing bondman ; then I know My answer must be made. But I am armed, And dangers are to me indifferent. 115 Casca. You speak to Casca, and to such a man That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand : Be factious for redress of all these griefs. And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest. Cas. There's a bargain made. 120 Now know you, Casca, I have moved already Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans To undergo with me an enterprise Of honorable-dangerous consequence ; And I do know, by this they stay for me 125 In Pompey's porch : for now, this fearful night, There is no stir or walking in the streets ; 19 Julius Caesar. Act I, Scene 3. And the complexion of the element In favor's like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. 130 Enter Cinna. Casca. Stand close aw^hile, for here comes one in haste. Cas. 'Tis Cinna ; I do know him by his gait ; He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so ? Cin. To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? Cas. No, it is Casca ; one incorporate 135 To our attempts. Am I not stayed for, Cinna ? Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this ! There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. Cas, Am I not stayed for ? tell me. Cin. Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could 140 But win the noble Brutus to our party — Cas, Be you content : good Cinna, take this paper, And look you lay it in the praetor's chair. Where Brutus may but find it ; and throw this In at his window ; set this up with wax 145 Upon old Brutus' statue ; all this done. Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there ? Cin. All but Metellus Cimber ; and he's gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, 150 And so bestow these papers as you bade me. Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. \^Exit Come, .Casca, you and I will yet ere day Cinna. See Brutus at his house : three parts of him Is ours already, and the man entire 155 Upon the next encounter yields him ours. 20 Act II, Scene 1. Julius Cacsar. Casca, O, he sits high in all the people's hearts : And that which would appear offence in us His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness. i6o Cas. Him and his worth and our great need of him You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight ; and ere day We will awake him and be sure of him. \_Exeunt ACT II. Scene I. Rome, Brutus' orchard. Enter Brutus. Bru. What, Lucius, ho ! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say ! I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when ? awake, I say ! what, Lucius ! 5 Enter Lucius. Luc, Called you, my lord ? Bru, Get me a taper in my study, Lucius : When it is lighted, come and call me here. Luc, I will, my lord. \^Exit. Bru. It must be by his death : and for my part, 10 I know no personal cause to spurn at him. But for the general. He would be crowned : How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ; And that craves wary walking. Crown him ? — that ; — 15 And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, 21 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. That at his will he may do danger with. The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from pow^r : and, to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known when his affections swayed 20 More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, j That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, f Whereto the climber-upward turns his face ; ^ But when he once attains the utmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his Ijack, 25 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend : so Caesar may ; Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel Will bear no color for the thing he is. Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented, 30 ^ Would run to these and these extremities : / And therefore think him as a serpent's egg Which, hatched, w^ould, as his kind, grow mischievous. And kill him in the shell. Re-enter Lucius. Luc, The taper burneth in your closet, sir. 35 Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper thus sealed up, and I am sure It did not lie there when I w^ent to bed. \_Gives him the letter. Bru, Get you to bed again ; it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March ? 40 Luc, I know not, sir. Bru, Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Luc, I will, sir. {^Exit, Bru. The exhalations whizzing in the air Give so much light that I may read by them. 45 22 Act II, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. \_Opens the letter and reads. *' Brutus, thou sleep'st : awake, and see thyself. Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress ! Brutus, thou sleep'st : awake ! " Such instigations have been often dropped Where I have took them up. 50 " Shall Rome, etc." Thus must I piece it out : Shall Rome stand under one man's awe ? What, Rome ? My ancestors did from the streets of Rome The Tarquin drive, when he was called a king. " Speak, strike, redress ! " Am I entreated 55 To speak and strike ? O Rome, I make thee promise ; If the redress will follow^ thou receivest Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus ! Re-enter Lucius. Luc, Sir, March is wasted fifteen days. \_Knocking within, Bru, 'Tis good. Go to the gate ; somebody knocks. 60 \_Exit Lucius, Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I have not slept. ?etween the acting of a dreadful thing nd the first motion, all the interim is -^Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : 65 The genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council ; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection. Re-enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, 70 Who doth desire to see you. 23 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. Bru. Is he alone ? Luc, No, sir, there are moe with him. Brii, Do you know them ? Luc, No, sir ; their hats are plucked about their ears. And half their faces buried in their cloaks. That by no means I may discover them 75 By any mark of favor. Bru, Let 'em enter. \^Exit Lucius. They are the faction. O conspiracy, Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free ? O, then, by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 80 To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none, conspiracy ; Hide it in smiles and affability : For if thou path, thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention. 85 Enter the Conspirators^ Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius. Cas, I think we are too bold upon your rest : Good morrow, Brutus ; do we trouble you ? Bru. I have been up this hour, awake all night. Know I these men that come along with you ? Cas, Yes, every man of them : and no man here 90 But honors you; and every one doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius. Bru, He is welcome hither. Cas. This, Decius Brutus. Bru, He is welcome too. 95 24 Act II, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Cas, This, Casca ; this, Cinna ; and this, Metellus Cimber. » Bru. They are all welcome. \ What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night ? Cas, Shall I entreat a word ? loo \_Briitus and Cassius whisper, Dec. Here lies the east : doth not the day break here ? Casca, No. . Cin, ^ O, pardon, sir, it doth ; and yon gray lines\ That fret the clouds are messengers of day. \ Casca, You shall confess that you are both deceived, were, as I point my sword, the sun arises. Which is a great way growing on the south, Weighing the youthful season of the year. Some two months hence up higher toward the north He first presents his fire ; and the high east no Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Cas, And let us swear our resolution. Bru, No, not an oath : if not the face of men, The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse, — 115 If these be motives weak, break off betimes, And every man hence to his idle bed ; So let high-sighted tyranny range on, Till ea ;h man drop by lottery. But if these. As I am sure they do, bear fire enough 120 To kindle cowards and to steel with valor The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen. What need we any spur but our own cause, To prick us to redress ? what other bond Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, 125 25 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. And will not palter ? and what other oath Than honesty to honesty engaged, That this shall be, or we will fall for it ? Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous. Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls 130 That welcome wrongs ; unto bad causes swear Such creatures as men doubt ; but do not stain The even virtue of our enterprise. Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, To think that or our cause or our performance 135 Did need an oath ; when every drop of blood That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, Is guilty of a several bastardy, ^ If he do break the smallest particle ^ Of any promise that hath passed from him. 140 Cas, But what of Cicero ? shall we sound him ? I think he will stand very strong with us. Casca, Let us not leave him out. Cin. No, by no means. I Met. O, let us have him, for his silver hairs Avill purchase us a good opinion, 1 And buy men's voices to commend our deeds : It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands ; Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear. But all be buried in his gravity. Bru, O, name him not: let us not break with him. For he will never follow anything 15 That other men begin. Cas, Then leave him out. Casca. Indeed he is not fit. Dec. Shall no man else be touched but only Caesar ? Cas. Decius, well urged : I think it is not meet, 155 26 Act II, Scene 1. JuHus Caesar. Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, Should outlive Caesar : we shall find of him A shrew^d contriver ; and, you know^, his means. If he improve them, may well stretch so far As to annoy us all : which to prevent, i6o Let Antony and Caesar fall together. ^ Bru. Our course wall seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, ^ Like wrath in death and envy afterwards ; \For Antony is but a limb of Caesar ; Z' 165 Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius^ J^ ^e all stand up against the spirit of Caesar : '^.nd in the spirit of men there is no blood, * O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, And not dismember Caesar I But, alas, 170 Caesar must bleed for it 1 And, gentle friends, Let's kill him boldly, but not wTathfully ; Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds : And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, 175 Stir up their servants to an act of rage, * And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make V Our purpose necessary and not envious : \ Which so appearing to the common eyes. We shall be called purgers, not murderers. i8c And for Mark Antony, think not of him ; For he can do no more than Caesar's arm When Caesar's head is off. Cas, Yet I fear him ; For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar — Bru, Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him : 185 If he love Caesar, all that he can do 27 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar : And that were much he should ; for he is given To sports, to wildness, and much company. Treb. There is no fear in him ; let him not die ; 190 For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. \Clock strikes. Bru. Peace ! count the clock. Cas. The clock hath stricken three. Treb, 'Tis time to part. Cas. But it is doubtful yet. Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no ; For he is superstitious grown of late, 195 Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies : It may be, these apparent prodigies. The unaccustomed terror of this night, And the persuasion of his augurers, 200 May hold him from the Capitol to-day. Dec, Never fear that ; if he be so resolved, I can o'ersway him ; for he loves to hear That unicorns may be betrayed with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, 205 Lions with toils, and men with flatterers; But when I tell him he hates flatterers. He says he does, being then most flattered. Let me work ; For I can give his humor the true bent, 210 And I will bring him to the Capitol. Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Bru. By the eighth hour : is that the uttermost ? Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. Met Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, 215 Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey : 28 Act II, Scene 1. Julius Caesaf. I wonder none of you have thought of him. Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him : He loves me well, and I have given him reasons ; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. [Brutus. Cas. The morning comes upon's : we'll leave you, And, friends, disperse yourselves ; but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. Bru, Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily ; Let not our looks put on our purposes, 225 But bear it as our Roman actors do. With untired spirits and formal constancy : And so good morrow to you every one. \_Exeunt all but Brutus, Boy ! Lucius ! Fast asleep ? It is no matter ; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber : 230 Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies. Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. Enter Portia. Por, Brutus, my lord ! Bru, Portia, what mean you ? wherefore rise you now ? It is not for your health thus to commit 235 Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. For, Nor for yours neither. You've un gently, Brutus, Stole from my bed : and yesternight at supper, Xou suddenly arose, and walked about. Musing and sighing, with your arms across ; 240 And when I asked you what the matter was, You stared upon me with ungentle looks ; I urged you further ; then you scratched your head. And too impatiently stamped with your foot ; 29 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. Yet I insisted, yet you answered not, 245 But, with an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you : so I did, Fearing to strengthen that impatience Which seemed too much enkindled, and withal Hoping it was but an effect of humor, 250 Which sometime hath his hour with every man. It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep. And could it work so much upon your shape As it hath much prevailed on your condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, 255 Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. Bru, I am not well in health, and that is all. For. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health. He would embrace the means to come by it. Bru, Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. 260 Por, Is Brutus sick ? and is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors Of the dank morning ? What, is Brutus sick. And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the wild contagion of the night * 265 And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air To add unto his sickness ? No, my Brutus ; You have some sick offence within your mind. Which, by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of : and, upon my knees, 270 I charm you, by my once commended beauty, , By all your vows of love and that great vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, Why you are heavy, and \yhat men to-night 275 Have had resort to you : for here have been 30 Act II, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness. Bru, Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por, I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, 280 I^ it excepted I should know no secrets That appertain to you ? Am I yourself But, as it were, in sort or limitation. To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed. And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more, 286 Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. 1 Bru, You are my true and honorable wife, y As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart. 290 Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret. I grant I am a woman ; but withal A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife : I grant I am a woman ; but withal A w^oman w^ell-reputed, Cato's daughter. 295 Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so fathered and so husbanded ? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em : I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound 300 Here in the thigh : can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets ? Bru, O ye gods, Render me worthy of this noble wife ! "[^Knocking within. Hark, hark ! one knocks : Portia, go in awhile ; And by and by thy bosom shall partake 305 The secrets of my heart : 31 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 1. All my engagements I will construe to thee, All the charactery of my sad brows : [knocks ? Leave me with haste. {Exit Portia,'] Lucius, who's that Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius. Luc, Here is a sick man that would speak with you. Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. 311 Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius ! how ? Lig, Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. Bru, O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, 'To wear a kerchief 1 Would you w^ere not sick ! 315 Lig, I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honor. Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. Lig, By all the gods that Romans bow before, 320 I here discard my sickness ! Soul of Rome 1 /Brave son, derived from honorable loins ! \Thou, like an exorcist, has conjured up My mortified spirit. Now bid me run. And I will strive with things impossible ; 325 Yea, get the better of them. What's to do ? Bru, A piece of work that would make sick men whole. Lig, But are not some whole that wt must make sick ? Bru. That must we also. W^hat it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going 330 To whom it must be done. Lig, Set on your foot. And with a heart new-fired I follow^ you, To do I know not what : but it sufhceth That Brutus leads me on. Bru, Follow me, then. \_Exeunt, 32 Act II, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. Scene II. Ccesar's House. Thunder and lightning. Enter Caesar, in his night-gown. Cces. Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night : Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, *' Help, ho ! they murder Caesar ! " Who's within ? Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord ? Cces. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, 5 And bring me their opinions of success. Serv, I will, my lord. . \_Exit. Enter Calpurnia. Cal. What mean you, Caesar ? think you to walk forth ? You shall not stir out of your house to-day. Cces. Caesar shall forth : the things that threatened me Ne'er looked but on my back ; when they shall see n The face of Caesar, they are vanished. Cal, Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies. Yet now they fright me. There is one within, Besides the things that we have heard and seen, 15 Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. A lioness hath whelped in the streets ; And graves have yawned, and yielded up their dead ; Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds. In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, 20 Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol ; The noise of battle hurtled in the air. Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. 33 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 2. O Caesar ! these things are beyond all use, 25 And I do fear them. Cces. What can be avoided Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods ? ■ii^ia ^ -^^M^^^^^^^^^m ^^^^^^B^ O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. — Act II. Scene 2. Yet Caesar shall go forth ; for these predictions Are to the world in general as to Caesar. CaL When beggars die, there are no comets seen ; 30 The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. C(Bs. Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. 34 Act II, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; 35 Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come#^- Re-enter Servant. What say the augurers ? Serv. They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast. 40 Cces. The gods do this in shame of cowardice : Caesar should be a beast without a heart, If he should stay at home to-day for fear. No, Caesar shall not : danger knows full well That Caesar is more dangerous than he : 45 We are two lions littered in one day, And I the elder and more terrible : And Caesar shall go forth. Cal. Alas, my lord, Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear 50 That keeps you in the house, and not your own. We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house ; And he shall say you are not well to-day : Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. Cces. Mark Antony shall say I am not well 55 And, for thy humor, I will stay at home. Enter Decius. Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. Dec. Caesar, all hail ! good morrow, worthy Caesar : I come to fetch you to the senate-house. 35 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 2. C^es, And you are come in very happy time, 60 To bear. my greeting to the senators And tell them that I will not come to-day : Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser : I will not come to-day : tell them so, Decius. CaL Say he is sick. Cces, Shall Caesar send a lie ? 65 Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far, To be afeard to tell graybeards the truth ? Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. Dec. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause. Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so. 70 CcBs. The cause is in my will : I will not come ; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But for your private satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know : Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home : 75 She dreamt to-night she saw my statue. Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts. Did run pure blood ; and many lusty Romans Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it : And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, 80 And evils imminent ; and on her knee Hath begged that I will stay at home to-day. Dec, This dream is all amiss interpreted ; It was a vision fair and fortunate: Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, 85 In which so many smiling Romans bathed. Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck Reviving blood^and that great men shall press For tinctures, Jfains, relics and cognizance. This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. 90 3^ Act II, Scene 2. JuHus Caesar. CcES, And this way have you well expounded it. Dec, I have, when you have hear^ what I can say : And know it now : the senate have concluded To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, 95 Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock Apt to be rendered, for some one to say, *' Break up the senate till another time. When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams." If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 100 '*Lo, Caesar is afraid! " Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love To your proceeding bids me tell you this, And reason to my love is liable. Cces. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia ! I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I will go. Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, and Cinna. And look where Pubhus is come to fetch me. Pub. Good morrow, Caesar. Cces, Welcome, Publius. What, Brutus, are you stirred so early too ? no Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy As that same ague which hath made you lean. What is 't o'clock ? Bru, Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. Cces, I thank you for your pains and courtesy. 115 T,! ff' Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 3. Enter Antony. See 1 Antony, that revels long o' nights, Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. Ant. So to most noble Caesar. Cces. Bid them prepare within : I am to blame to be thus waited for. Now, Cinna : now, Metellus : what, Trebonius 1 120 I have an hour's talk in store for you ; Remember that you call on me to-day : Be near me, that I may remember you. Treb. Caesar, I will : \^Aside\ and so near will I be, That your best friends shall wish I had been further. 125 Cces. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me ; And we, like friends, will straightway go together. Bru. \_Aside\ That every like is not the same, O Caesar, The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon ! \_Exeunt. Scene III. A street near the Capitol. Enter Artemidorus, reading a paper. Art. '' Caesar, beware of Brutus ; take heed of Cas- sius ; come not near Casca ; have an eye to Cinna ; trust not Trebonius ; mark well Metellus Cimber : Decius Brutus loves thee not : thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you : Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee ! Thy lover Artemidorus." Here x stand till Caesar pass along, And as a suitor will I give him this. 10 38 Act II, Scene 4. Julius Caesar. My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation. If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live ; If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.. \_Exit. Scene IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus, Enter Portia and Lucius. Por. I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house ; Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone : Why dost thou stay ? constancy, he strong upon my side. — Act II. Scene 4. Luc. To know my errand, ma6J Por. I would have had thee there, and here again, 39 Julius Caesar. Act II, Scene 4. Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. 5 constancy, be strong upon my side, Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue 1 1 have a man's mind, but a woman's might. How hard it is for w^omen to keep counsel ! Art thou here yet ? Luc. Madam, what should I do ? 10 Run to the Capitol, and nothing else ? And so return to you, and nothing else ? For. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth : and take good note What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. 15 Hark, boy ! what noise is that ? Luc. I hear none, madam. For. Prithee, listen well ; I heard a bustling rumor, like a fray. And the wind brings it from the Capitol. Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. Efiter the Soothsayer. For, Come hither, fellow : 20 Which way hast thou been ? Sooth. At mine own house, good lady. For. What is 't o'clock ? Sooth. About the ninth hour, lady. For. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol ? Sooth. Madam, not yet : I go to take my stand. To see him pass on to the Capitol. 25 For. Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not ? Sooth. That I have, lady : if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, I shall beseech him to befriend himself. 40 Act III, Scene 1. JuHus Caesar. Por, Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him ? 30 Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow : The throng that follow Caesar at the heels. Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, Will crowed a feeble man almost to death : 35 I'll get me to a place more void, and there Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. \^Exit. Por. I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is ! O Brutus, The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise 1 40 Sure, the boy heard me : Brutus hath a suit That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord ; Say I am merry : come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee. 45 \_Exeunt severally, ACT III. Scene I. Rome, Before the Capitol ; the Senate sitting above, A crowd of people ; among them Artemidorus a7id the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cas- sius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, a7id others. Cces. \_To the Soothsayer'] The ides of March are come. Sooth. Ay, Caesar ; but not gone. Art. Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. 41 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 1. Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read, At your best leisure, this his humble suit. 5 Art, O Caesar, read mine first ; for mine's a suit That touches Caesar nearer : read it, great Caesar. CcEs, What touches us ourself shall be last served. Art. Delay not, Caesar ; read it instantly. Cces. What, is the fellow mad ? Pub. Sirrah, give place. lo Cas. What, urge you your petitions in the street ? Come to the Capitol. C^SAR goes up to the Senate-House^ the rest following. Pop, I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. Cas. What enterprise, Popilius ? Pop, Fare you well. \_Advances to Ccesar. Bru, What said Popilius Lena ? 15 Cas, He wished to-day our enterprise might thrive. I fear our purpose is discovered. Bru, Look, how he makes to Caesar : mark him. Cas, Casca, Be sudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what shall be done ? If this be known, 20 Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself. Bru, Cassius, be constant : Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes ; For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. Cas. Trebonius knows his time ; for, look you, Brutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way. 26 \_Exeunt Antony and Trebonius, Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber ? Let him go, 42 Act III, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. Brii. He is addressed : press near and second him. 0>/. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. 3° Cces. Are we all ready ? What is now amiss That Caesar and his senate must redress ? Met, Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart : — . \_Kneeling, Cces. I must prevent thee, Cimber. 35 These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might thaw the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood 40 That will be thawed from the true quality With that which melteth fools ; I mean, sweet w^ords. Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. Thy brother by decree is banished : If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, 45 I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied. Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear 50 For the repealing of my banished brother ? Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar ; Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal. Cces. What, Brutus ! 43 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 1. Cas. Pardon, Caesar ; Caesar, pardon ; 55 As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall. To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. Cces. I could be well moved, if I were as you ; If I could pray to move, prayers would move me ; But I am constant as the northern star, 60 Of whose true-fixed and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks, They are all fire and every one doth shine ; But there's but one in all doth hold his place: 65 So in the world ; 'tis furnished well with men. And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive ; Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank, Unshaked of motion : and that I am he, . 70 Let me a little show it, even in this ; That I was constant Cimber should be banished, And constant do remain to keep him so. Cin, O Caesar, — C(xs. Hence ! wilt thou lift up Olympus ? Dec, Great Caesar, — Cces, Doth not Brutus bootless kneel ? 75 Casca. Speak, hands, for me ! \Casca first, then the other conspirators and Marcus Brutus stab CcEsar. Cces, Et tu. Brute ! Then fall, Caesar ! \_Bies, Cin. Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is dead 1 Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. Cas, Some to the common pulpits, and cry out ** Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement 1 " 44 Act III, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Bru. People and senators, be not affrighted ; Fly not ; stand still: ambition's debt is paid. Casca, Go to the pulpit, Brutus. Dec. And Cassius too. 85 Bru. Where's PubUus ? Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's Should chance — Bru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer ; 90 There is no harm intended to your person. Nor to no Roman else : so tell them, Publius. Cas. And leave us, Publius : lest that the people. Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. Bru. Do so : and let no man abide this deed, 95 But we the doers. Re-enter Trebonius. Cas. Where is Antony ? Tre. Fled to his house amazed : Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run As it were doomsday. Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures : That we shall die, we know ; 'tis but the time 100 And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Cas. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death. Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit : So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged 105 ,His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop. And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords : Then walk w^e forth, even to the market-place, 45 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 1 And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, no Let's all cry " Peace, freedom, and liberty ! " Cas, Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown ! Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, 115 That now on Pompey's basis lies along No worthier than the dust ! Cas. So oft as that shall be. So often shall the knot of us be called The men that gave their country liberty. Dec. What, shall we forth ? ' Cas. Ay, every man away : 120 Brutus shall lead ; and we will grace his heels With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. Enter a Servant. Bru. Soft! who comes here ? A friend of Antony's. Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel ; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down ; 125 And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say : Brutus is noble, wise, valiant and honest ; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal and loving : Say I love Brutus, and I honor him; Say I feared Caesar, honored him, and loved him. 130 If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolved How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living ; but will follow 135 The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state 46 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 1. With all true faith. So says my master Antony. Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ; I never thought him worse. 140 Tell him, so please him come unto this place, He shall be satisfied, and, by my honor. Depart untouched. Serv, I'll fetch him presently. \_Exit. Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend. Cas. I wish we may : but yet have I a mind 145 That fears him much ; and piy misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose. Bru, But here comes Antony. Re-enter Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony. Ant. O mighty Caesar ! dost thou lie so low ? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 150 Shrunk to this little measure ? Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend. Who else /must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Caesar's death's hour, nor no instrument 155 Of half that' worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard. Now whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke. Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, 160 I shall not find myself so apt to die : No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Caesar, and by you cut off. The choice and master spirits of this age. Bru. O Antony, beg not your death of us. 165 48 Act III, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done : Welcome, Mark Antony. — Act III. Scene i. Our hearts you see not ; they are pitiful ; 170 And pity to the general wrong of Rome — As fire drives out fire, solpity pity — Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony : Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts 175 Of brothers' temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. 49 Julius Caesar. . Act III, Scene 1. Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's In the disposing of new dignities. Bru, Only be patient till we have appeased i8o The multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then we will deliver you the cause. Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded. Ant, I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand : 185 First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you ; Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand ; Now, Decius Brutus, yours ; now yours, Metellus ; Yours, Cinna ; and, my valiant Casca, yours ; Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius. 190 Gentlemen ^11, — alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground. That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer. That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true : 195 If then thy spirit look upon us now. Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, .Most noble ! in the presence of thy corse ? 200 Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood. It would become me better than to close In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me, JuHus ! Here wast thou bayed, brave hart ; 205 Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand. Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy lethe. O world, thou wast the forest to this hart ; 50 Act III, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. f^ 'And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. \ How Hke a deer strucken by many princes, ' 210 Dost thou here he ! Cas, Mark Antony, — Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius ; The enemies of Caesar shall say this ; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. Cas, I blame you not for praising Caesar so ; 215 But what compact mean you to have with us ? Will you be pricked in number of our friends, Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Ant. Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, Swayed from the point, by looking down on Caesar. 220 Friends am I with you all and love you all. Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. Bru, Or else were this a savage spectacle : Our reasons are so full of good regard 225 That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, You should be satisfied. Ant, That's all I seek : And am moreover suitor that I may Produce his body to the market-place ; And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, 230 Speak in the order of his funeral. Bru, You shall, Mark Antony. / Cas. Brutus, a word with you. \Aside to Brutus^ You know not what you do : do not consent That Antony speak in his funeral : Know you how much the people may be moved 235 By that which he will utter? 51 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 1. Bru, By your pardon ; I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Caesar's death : What Antony shall speak, I will protest He speaks by leave and by permission, 240 And that we are contented Caesar shall Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more than do us wrong. Cas. I know not what may fall ; I like it not. Bru, Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. 245 You shall not in your funeral speech blame us. But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, And say you do't by our permission ; Else shall you not have any hand at all About his funeral : and you shall speak 250 In the same pulpit whereto I am going. After my speech is ended. Ant, Be it so ; 1^0 desiremo more. Bru, Prepare the body then, and follow us. \Exeunt all but Antony, Ant, O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, 255 That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ! Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood ! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, — 260 Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips. To beg the voice and utterance of niy tongue, — A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ; 265 52 Act III, Scene 1. JuHus Caesar. Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadful objects so familiar, That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quartered with the hands of war ; All pity choked wdth custom of fell deeds : 270 And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell. Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice Cry " Havoc," and let slip the dogs of w^ar ; That this foul deed/ shall smel| above the earth 275 With carrion men, groaning for burial. Enter a Servant. You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not ? Serv. I do, Mark Antony. Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming ; 280 And bid me say to you by word of mouth — O Caesar ! — \Seeing the body. Ant. Thy heart is big ; get thee apart and weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes. Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, 285 Began to water. Is thy master coming ? Se7V. He lies to-night withm seven leagues of Rome. Ant. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced : Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octavius yet ; 290 Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile : Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse Into the market-place : there shall I try. In my oration, how the people take Julius Caesar. Act IIL Scene 2. The cruel issue of these bloody men ; 295 According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius of the state of things. Lend me your hand. {^Exeunt with Ccesar's body, y-y- >^':2 'Scene II. J^yorum. Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens. Citizens. We will be satisfied ; let us be satisfied. Bru. Then follow me, and give me ^audience, friends. Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers. Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here ; 5 Those that will follow Cassius, go with him ; And public reasons shall be rendered Of Caesar's death. First Cit I will hear Brutus speak. Sec, Cit, I will hear Cassius ; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered. 10 \Exit Cassius^ with some of the Citizens. Brutus goes into the pulpit. Third Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended : silence ! Bru. Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear : beHeve me for mine honor, and have respect to mine honor, that you may be- lieve : censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my 54 Act III, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. answer : — Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, ,than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men ? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honor him : but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love ; joy for his fortune ; honor for his valor ; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. 33 AIL None, Brutus, none. Bru, ' Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The ques- tion of his death is enrolled in the Capitol ; his glory not extenuated, wherein he >\'as worthy^ nor his offences en- forced, for which he suffered death. Enter Antony a7id others^ with Cesar's body. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, — that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. 46 All. Live, Brutus i live, live ! First Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. Sec. Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors. Third Cit. Let him be Caesar. 55 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 2. Caesar's better parts 50 Fourth Cit Shall be crowned in Brutus. First Cit. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamors. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony. — Act III. Scene 2. £ru. My countrymen, — Sec, Cit. Peace, silence ! Brutus speaks. First Cit. Peace, ho ! Bru. Good countrymen, let me depart alone. And, for my sake, stay here with Antony : Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech Tending to Caesar's glories ; which Mark Antony, 56 55 Act III, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. By our permission, is allowed to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, 60 Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. [£xtf, Firs.t Cit Stay, ho ! and let us hear Mark Antony. Third Cit Let him go up into the public chair ; We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up. Ant For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you. 65 \^Goes into the pulpit. Fourth Cit. What does he say of Brutus ? Third Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake, He finds himself beholding to us -all. Fourth Cit 'Tv^ere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. First Cit. This Caesar v^as a tyrant. Third Cit, Nay, that's certain : We are blest that Rome is rid of him. 70 Sec. Cit. Peace ! let us hear what Antony can say. Ant. You gentle Romans, — p.^ Citizens. Peace, ho 1 let us hear him. ' Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears ; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them ; 75 The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious : If it were so, it was a grievous fault. And grievously hath Caesar answered it. 80 Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, — For Brutus is an honorable man ; So are they all, all honorable men, — Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me : 85 57 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 2. But Brutus says he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : Did this in Caesar seem ambitious ? 90 . When that the poor have cri-ed, Caesar hath wept : \1 Ambition should be made of /sterner stuffs: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; ^ And Brutus is an honorable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal 95 I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse : was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honorable man. • I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 100 But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause : What cause witKholds you then to mourn for him ? \^ O judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts, \ And men have lost their reason. Bear with me ; 105 My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me. First Cit. Methinks there is much reason in his say- ings. Sec, Cit, If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had /great wrong. Third Cit, [ Has he, masters ? no I fear there willa worse come in his place. Fourth Cit, Marked ye his words ? He would not take the crown ; Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious. First Cit, If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 58 Act III, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. V Sec, at. Poor soul ! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 115 Third Cit. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. Fourth Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. Ant. But yesterday the word of Caesar might have stood against the world ; now lies he there, [And none so poor to do him reverence. 120 b masters, if I were disposed to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong. Who, you all know, are honorable men : I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose 125 To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honorable men. But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar ; I found it in his closet ; 'tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament — 130 Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read — And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, 135 Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue. Fourth Cit. We'll hear the will : read it, Mark Antony. All. TThe will ! the will ! we will hear Caesar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it ; It is not meet you know how^ Caesar loved you. 141 You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad : 59 Julius Caesar. Act ill, Scene 2. 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ; 145 For, if you should, O, what would come of it ! Fourth Cit. Read the will ; we'll hear it, Antony ; You shall read us the will, Caesar's will. Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay awhile ? I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it : 150 I fear I wrong the honorable men Whose daggers have stabbed Caesar ; I do fear it. Fourth Cit, They were traitors : honorable men ! All. The will! the testament ! Sec. Cit. They were villains, murderers : the will ! read the will. 156 Ant. You will compel me, then, to read the will ? Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend ? and will you give me leave ? 160 All. Come down. Sec. Cit. Descend. \_He comes down from the pulpit. Third Cit. You shall have leave. Fourth Cit. A ring ; stand round. First Cit. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body. Sec. Cit. Room for Antony, most noble Antony. 166 Ant. Nay, press not so upon me ; stand far off. Several Cit. Stand back. Room ! Bear back. Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember 170 The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii : Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made : 175 60 Act III, Scene 2. JuHus Caesar. Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed ; And as he plucked his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it, I As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ; i8o For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel : Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him ! This was the most unkindest cut of all ; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, llngratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, 185 iQuite vanquished him : then burst his mighty heart ; Afid, in his mantle muffling up his face. Even at the base of Pompey's statue. Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 190 Then I, and you, and all of us fell down. Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you w^hen you but behold 195 Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here. Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors. First Cit. O piteous spectacle ! Sec, Cit, O noble Caesar ! Third Cit. O woful day! 200 Fourth Cit, O traitors, villains ! First Cit, O most bloody sight ! Sec. Cit. We will be revenged. AIL Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slriy ! Let not a traitor live ! 205 Ant, Stay, countrymen. First Cit. Peace there ! hear the noble Antony. 61 Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 2. Sec. Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. 211 They that have done this deed are honorable : What private griefs they have, alas, I know not. That made them do it : they are wise and honorable. And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 215 I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man. That love my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him : 220 For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth. Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ; J tell you that which you yourselves do know ; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me : but were I Brutus, 226 And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. 230 All. We'll mutiny. First Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus. Third Cit. Away then ! come, seek the conspirators. Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen ; yet hear me speak. AIL Peace, ho ! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony ! Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what : Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves ? 237 Alas, you know not : I must tell you then : You have forgot the will I told you of. 62 Act III, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. AIL Most true : the will ! Let's stay and hear the will. 240 Ant Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. Sec. Cit Most noble Caesar ! We'll revenge his death. Third Cit. O royal Caesar ! 245 Ant Hear me with patience. All. Peace, ho ! Ant Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbors and ne^^^-planted orchards, On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you, 250 And to your heirs for ever ; common pleasures, To w^alk abroad and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar I when comes such another ? First Cit, Never, never. Come, away, away ! We'll burn his body in the holy place, 255 And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. Take up the body. Sec, Cit Go fetch fire. Third Cit Pluck down benches. Fourth Cit, Pluck down forms, windows, anything. [Fxeunt Citizens with the body. Ant, 'Now let it work, mischief, thou art afoot, 261 Take thou what course thou wilt ! ' Enter a Servant. How now, fellow ! Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome. Ant Where is he ? Serv. He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house. 265 Ant, And thither will I straight to visit him : ^7> d Julius Caesar. Act III, Scene 3. He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us any thing. Serv. I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius Are rid hke madmen through the gates of Rome. 270 Ant Behke they had some notice of the people. How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. ^ \Exeunt, Scene III. A street. Enter Cinna the poet. Cin. I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Caesar, And things unlucky charge my fantasy : I have no will to wander forth of doors, Yet something leads me forth. Enter Citizens. First Cit What is your name ? 5 Sec. Cit. Whither are you going? Third Cit. Where do you dwell ? Fourth Cit Are you a married man or a bachelor ? Sec. Cit, Answer every man directly. First Cit. Ay, and briefly. , 10 Fourth Cit. Ay, and wisely. Third Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best. Cin. What is my name ? Whither am I going ? Where do I dwell ? am I a married man or a bachelor ? Then, to answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and truly : wisely I say, I am a bachelor. 16 Sec, Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry : you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed ; directly. Cin. Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral. 20 64 Act IV, Scene 1. JuHus Caesar. First Cit As a friend or an enemy ? Cin. As a friend. Sec. Cit. That matter is answered directly. Fourth Cit. For your dwelling, briefly. Cin, Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. 25 Third Cit, Your name, sir, truly. Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna. First Cit. Tear him to pieces ; he's a conspirator. Cin, /I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet. Fourth Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses. 31 Cin. I am not Cinna the conspirator. Fourth Cit, It is no matter, his name's Cinna ; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going. Third Cit. /Tear him, tear himl Come, brands, ho! fire-brands: to Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all: some to Decius' house, and some to Casca's ; some to Ligarius' : away, go ! \Exeu7it, ACT IV. Scene I. A house in Rome. Antony, Octavius, ^/z^Lepidus, seated at a table. Ant. These many, then, shall die; their names are pricked. Oct. Your brother too must die ; consent you, Lepi- dus ? Lep. I do consent — Oct, Prick him down, Antony. * Lep. Upon condition Publius shall not live. Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. 5 65 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 1. Ant, He shall not live ; look, with a spot I damn him. But Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house ; Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in legacies. .^ ImP ■ f^.' rt J| ll ^2 ^m ^ w He shall not Hue ; look, with a spot I damn him. — Act IV. Scene i. Lep. What, shall I find you here ? lo Oct Or here, or at the Capitol. \_Exit Lepidus. Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man, Meet to be sent on errands : is it fit, The three-fold world divided, he should stand One of the three to share it ? , Oct, So you thought him, 15 And took his voice who should be pricked to die. In our black sentence and proscription. Ant. Octavius, I have seen more days than you: And though we lay these honors on this man. To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, 20 66 Act IV, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, To groan and sweat under the business, Either led or driven, as we point the w^ay ; And having brought our treasure where we will, Then take we down his load and turn him off, 25 Like to the eiftpty ass, to shake his ears. And graze in commons. Oc/. You may do your will ; But he's a tried and valiant soldier. Ant. So is my horse, Octavius ; and for that I do appoint him store of provender: 30 It is a creature that I teach to fight, To wind, to stop, to run directly on. His corporal motion governed by my spirit. And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so ; He must be taught, and trained, and bid go forth ; 35 A barren-spirited fellow ; one that feeds On abjects, orts, and imitations, Which, out of use and staled by other men, Begin his fashion : do not talk of him, But as a property. And now, Octavius, 40 Listen great things : Brutus and Cassius Are levying powders : w^e must straight make head : Therefore let pur alliance be combined. Our best friends made, our means stretched ; And let us presently go sit in council, 45 How covert matters may be best disclosed, And open perils surest answ^er^d. Oct. Let us do so : for we are at the stake, And bayed about with many enemies ; And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, 50 MiUions of mischiefs. \Exeunt 67 f Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 2. Scene II. Camp near Sardis, Before Brutus'^ tent. Drum, Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers : TiTiNius and Pindarus meeting them, Bru, Stand, ho ! Lucil. Give the word, ho ! and stand. Bru. What now, Lucilius ! is Cassius near ? LuciL He is at hand ; and Pindarus is come To do you salutation from his master. 5 Bru. He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus, In his own change, or by ill officers, Hath given me some worthy cause to wish Things done, undone ; but if he be at hand, I shall be satisfied. Pin, I do not doubt lo But that my noble master will appear Such as he is, full of regard and honor. Bru, He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius, How he received you : let me be resolved. Lucil. With courtesy and- with respect enough ; 15 But not with such familiar instances, Nor with such free and friendly conference. As he hath used of old. Bru, Thou hast described A hot friend cooling : ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay, 20 It useth an enforced cefemony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith ; But hollow men, like horses hot at hand. Make gallant show and promise of their mettle ; But when they should endure the bloody spur, 25 68 Act IV, Scene 2. Julius Caesar. They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades. Sink in the trial. Comes his army on ? Lucil. They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered ; The greater part, the horse in general. Are come with Cassius. \^Low march within, Bru, Hark ! he is arrived. 30 March gently on to meet him. Enter Cassius a7id his powers, Cas. Stand, ho ! Bru. Stand, ho ! Speak the word along. First Sol. Stand ! Sec, Sol. Stand ! 35 Third Sol. Stand ! Cas. Most noble brother, you have done me wrong. Bru. Judge me, you gods I wrong I mine enemies ? And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother ? Cas, Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs ; 40 And when you do them — Bru. Cassius, be content ; Speak your griefs softly : I do know you well. Before the eyes of both our armies here, Which should perceive nothing but love from us, Let us not wrangle : bid them move away ; 45 Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs. And I will give you audience. Cas. Pindarus, Bid our commanders lead the charges off A little from this ground. Bru. Lucilius, do you the like ; and let no man 50 Come to our tent till we have done our conference. Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door. \Exeunt. 69 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 3. Scene III. Brutus' tent Enter Brutus and Cassius. Cas, That you have wronged me doth appear in this : You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; Wherein my letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man, were slighted off. 5 Bru, You wronged yourself to write in such a case. Cas, In such a time as this it is not meet That every nice offence should bear his comment. Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm, 10 To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers. Cas, I an itching palm ! You know that you are Brutus that speaks this. Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, 15 And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. Cas. Chastisement ! B7U. Remember March, the ides of March remember: Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, 20 And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes. And sell the mighty space of our large honors 25 For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. 70 Act IV, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Cas. Brutus, bait not me ; I'll not endure it: you forget yourself, To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I, 30 Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions. Bru. Go to ; you are not, Cassius. Cas. I am. Bru. I say you are not. Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself ; 35 Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, slight man ! Cas. Is't possible ? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler ? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ? 40 Cas. O ye gods, ye gods ! must I endure all this ? Bru. All this ! ay, more : fret till your proud heart break ; Go show your slaves how choleric you are. And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge. Must I observe you ? must I stand and crouch 45 Under your testy humor ? By the gods. You shall digest the venom of your spleen. Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter. When you are waspish. Cas. Is it come to this ? 50 Bru. You say you are a better soldier : Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well : for mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cas. You wrong me every way ; you wrong me, Brutus ; 71 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 3. I said, an elder soldier, not a better : 56 Did I say, better ? Bru. If you did, I care not. Cas, When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Bru. Peace, peace ! you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. I durst not ! 60 Bru. No. Cas, What, durst not tempt him ! Bru, For your life you durst not. Cas, Do not presume too much upon my love ; I may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru, You have done that you should be sorry for. 65 There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ; For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me : 70 For I can raise no money by vile means : By heaven, I had rather coin my heart. And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection : I did send 75 To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me : was that done like Cassius \ Should I have answered Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous. To lock such rascal counters from his friends, 80 Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ; Dash him to pieces ! 72 Act IV, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Cas. I denied you not. Bru, You did. Cas.' I did not : he was but a fool That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart : A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, 85 But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru, I do not, till you practise them on me. Cas. You love me not. Bru. I do not like your faults. Cas, A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru, A flatterer's would not, though they do appear 90 As huge as high Olympus. Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come ; Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world ; Hated by one he loves ; braved by his brother ; 95 Checked like a bondman ; all his faults observed. Set in a note-book, learned, and conned by rote. To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger. And here my naked breast ; within, a heart 100 Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth ; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : Strike, as thou didst at Caesar ; for I know. When thou didst hate him w^orst, thou lovedst him better 105 Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. Bru. Sheathe your dagger : Be angry when you wdll, it shall have scope ; Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. 73 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 3. O Cassius, you are yok^d with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire, no Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark And straight is cold again. Cas, Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him ? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. 115 Cas. Do you confess so much ? Give me your hand. Bru. And my heart too. Cas. O Brutus ! Bru. What's the matter ? Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humor which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful ? Bru. Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth, 120 When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. Poet. [ Within^ Let me go in to see the generals ; There is some grudge between 'em : 'tis not meet They be alone. Lucil. [ Within^ You shall not come to them. 125 Poet. [ Within..'\ Nothing but death shall stay me. Enter Vo^X,^ followed by Lucilius, Titinius, ^;^^ Lucius. Cas. How now ! what's the matter ? Poet. For shame, you generals ! what do you mean ? Love, and be friends, as two such men should be ; For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye. 130 Cas. Ha, ha ! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme ! Bru. Get you hence, sirrah ; saucy fellow, hence 1 Cas. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion. 74 Act IV, Scene 3. ^ Julius Caesar. Bru, I'll know his humor, when he knows his time : What should the wars do with these jigging fools ? 135 Companion, hence ! Cas. Away, away, be gone ! \_Exit Poet. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. Cas, And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. \_Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius, Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine ! Exit Lucius. Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry. 141 Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use. If you give place to accidental evils. Bru. No man bears sorrow better : Portia is dead. 145 Cas. Ha! Portia! Bru. She is dead. Cas, How scaped I killing when I crossed you so ? O insupportable and touching loss ! Upon what sickness ? Bru. Impatient of my absence, 150 And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong : for with her death That tidings came : with this she fell distract. And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. Cas. And died so ? Bru. Even so. Cas. O ye immortal gods ! 155 Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper. r""^ Bru. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [^Drinks. Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. 75 Julius Caesar. ^ Act IV, Scene 3. Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup ; 159 I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. \_Drinks, Bru. Come in, Titinius ! \_Exit Lucius. Re-enter Titinius, with Messala. Welcome, good Messala. Now sit we close about this taper here. And call in question our necessities. Cas, Portia, art thou gone ? Bru, No more, I pray you. Messala, I have here received letters, 165 That young Octavius and Mark Antony Come down upon us with a mighty power, Bending their expedition toward Philippi. Mes, Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor. Bru. With what addition ? 170 Mes. That by proscription and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, Have put to death an hundred senators. Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree ; Mine speak of seventy senators that died 175 By their proscriptions, Cicero being one. Cas. Cicero one ! Mes. Cicero is dead. And by that order of proscription. Had you your letters from your wife, my lord ? Biu. No, Messala. 180 Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her ? Bru. Nothing, Messala. Mes. That, methinks, is strange. Bru. Why ask you ? hear you aught of her in yours ? Mes. No, my lord. 76 Act IV, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. 185 Mes, Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. Bru, Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala : With meditating that she must die once I have the patience to endure it now. 190 Mes, Even so great men great losses should endure. Cas, I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently ? 195 Cas. I do not think it good. Bru. Your reason ? Cas. This it is : 'Tis better that the enemy seek us : So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence ; whilst we, lying still. Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness. 200 Bru. Good reasons must of force give place to better. The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground Do stand but in a forced affection. For they have grudged us contribution : The enemy, marching along by them, 205 By them shall make a fuller number up. Come on refreshed, new-added, and encouraged ; From which advantage shall we cut him off, If at Philippi we do face him there. These people at our back. Cas. Hear me, good brother. 210 Bru. Under your pardon. You must note beside, That we have tried the utmost of our friends, 77 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 3. I Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe : The enemy increaseth every day ; We, at the height, are ready to decline. 215 There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; Omittedj all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat ; 220 And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. Cas. Then, with your will, go on ; We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. Bru, The deep of night is crept upon our talk. And nature must obey necessity ; 225 Which we wall niggard with a little rest. There is no more to say ? Cas, No more. Good night : Early to-morrow will we rise and hence. Bric, Lucius! \jEnter Lucius^ My gown. \_Exit Lucius^ Farewell, good Messala : Good night, Titinius : noble, noble Cassius, 230 Good night, and good repose. Cas, O my dear brother ! This was an ill beginning of the night : Never come such division 'tween our souls ! Let it not, Brutus. Bru. Everything is well. Cas. Good night, my lord. Bru. Good night, good brother. 235 Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus. Bru. Farewell, every one. [^Exeunt all but Brutus. 78 Act IV, Scene 3. JuHus Caesar. Re-enter Iajcivs, with the gown. Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument ? Luc, Here in the tent. Bru, What, thou speak'st drowsily ? Poor knave, I blame thee not ; thou art overwatched. Call Claudius and some other of my men ; 240 I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent. Luc. Varro and Claudius ! Enter Varro and Claudius. Var, Calls my lord ? Bru. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep ; It may be I shall raise you by and by 245 On business to my brother Cassius. Var. So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure. Bru, I will not have it so : lie down, good sirs ; It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. . Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so ; 250 I put it in the pocket of my gow^n. [ Varro and Claudius lie down, Luc, I was sure your lordship did not give it me. Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile. And touch thy instrument a strain or two ? 255 L.UC. Ay, my lord, an't please you. Bru. It does, my boy : I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. Luc. It is my duty, sir. Bric. I should not urge thy duty past thy might ; I know young bloods look for a time of rest. 260 79 Julius Caesar. Act IV, Scene 3. Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. Bru. It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; I will not hold thee long ; if I do live, I will be good to thee. \^Music^ and a song. (This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, 265 ^Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music ? Gentle knave, good night ; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee : If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument ; I'll take it from thee ; and, good boy, good night. 270 Let me see, let me see ; is not the leaf turned down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. Enter the Ghost of Caesar. How ill this taper burns ! Ha ! who comes here ? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. 275 It comes upon me. Art thou any thing ? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil. That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare ? Speak to me what thou art. Ghost, Thy evil spirit, Brutus. Bru. Why comest thou ? 280 Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. Bru. Well ; then I shall see thee again ? Ghost. Ay, at Philippi. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. \_Exit Ghost. Now I have taken heart thou vanishest : 285 111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy, Lucius 1 Varro I Claudius ! Sirs, awake ! Claudius ! 80 Act IV, Scene 3. J uHus Caesar. Luc, The strings, my lord, are false. Bru. \ He thinks he still is at his instrument. 290 Lucius, awake ! Luc. My lord ? Bru, Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out ? Thou shah see me at PhilippL — Act IV. Scene 3. % Luc, My lord, I do not know that I did cry. 294 Bru, Yes, that thou didst : didst thou see any thing ? Luc, Nothing, my lord. . Bru, Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah, Claudius I [ To Varro] Fellow thou, awake ! 81 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 1. Var. My lord ? Clau. My lord ? 300 Bru. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep ? Va7\ Clati. Did we, my lord ? Bru. Ay : saw you any thing I Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing. Clau. Nor I, my lord. Bru. Go and commend me to my brother Cassius ; Bid him set on his powers betimes before, 305 And we will follow. Var. Clau. It shall be done, my lord. \Exeunt, ACT V. Scene I. The plains of Philippi. Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army. Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered : You said the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions ; It proves not so : their battles are at hand ; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, 5 Answering before we do demand of them. Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it : they could be content To visit other places ; and come down With fearful bravery, thinking by this face .lo To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage ; But 'tis not so. • Enter a Messenger. Mess. Prepare you, generals : The enemy comes on in gallant show ; 82 Act V, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately. Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field. Oct Upon the right hand I ; keep thou the left. Now, Antony y our hopes are answered, — Act V. Scene i. Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent : Oct. I do not cross you ; but I will do so. Bru. Cas. Oct, Ant. 19 \March. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army ; ciLius, TiTiNius, Messala, and others. Lu- They stand, and would have parley. Stand fast, Titinius : we must out and talk. Mark Antony, shall w^e give sign of battle ? No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth ; the generals would have some words. Oct. Stir not until the signal. Bru. Words before blows : is it so, countrymen ? 83 25 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 1. Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do. Bru, Good words are better than bad strokes, Octa- vius. Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words : Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart, 31 Crying " Long live ! hail, Caesar ! " Cas. Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown ; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees. And leave them honeyless. Ant. Not stingless too. 35 Bru. O, yes, and soundless too ; For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, % And very wisely threat before you sting. Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar : 40 You showed your teeth like apes, and fawned like hounds. And bowed like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet ; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers ! Cas. Flatterers ! Now, Brutus, thank yourself : 45 This tongue had not offended so to-day. If Cassius might have ruled. Oct. Come, come, the cause : if arguing make us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look ; 50 I draw a sword against conspirators ; When think you that the sword goes up again ? Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds Be well avenged, or till another Caesar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. 55 84 Act V, Scene 1. Julius Caesar. Bru, Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands, Unless thou bring'st them with thee. Oct. So I hope ; I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. Brii. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain. Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable. 60 Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honor, Joined with a masker and a reveller ! Ant, Old Cassius still ! Oct. Come, Antony, away. Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth : If you dare fight to-day, come to the field ; 65 If not, when you have stomachs. [Exeunt Octaviiis^ Antony^ and their army. Cas. Why, now," blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark 1 The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. Bru. Ho, Lucilius ! hark, a word wath you. Liicil. \_Standmg forth.'] My lord ! \_Brutus and Lucilius converse apart. Cas. Messala. Mes. \^ Standing forth 7\ What says my general ? Cas. Messala, This is my birthday ; as this very day 71 Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala : Be thou my witness that against my will, As Pompey was, am I compelled to set Upon one battle all our liberties. 75 You know that I held Epicurus strong And his opinion : now I change my mind, And partly credit things that do presage. Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched, 80 85 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 1. Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ; Who to PhiUppi here consorted us : This morning are they fled away and gone ; And in their steads do ravens, crows and kites Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us, 85 As we were sickly prey : their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. Mes. Believe not so. Cas, I but believe it partly ; For I am fresh of spirit and resolved 90 To meet all perils very constantly. Bru, Even so, LuciHus. Cas. Now, most noble Brutus, The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may, Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age ! But since the affairs of men rest still incertain, 95 Let's reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together : What are you then determined to do? Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy 100 By which I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself : I know not how, But I do find it cowardly and vile. For fear of what might fall, so to prevent The time of life : arming myself with patience 105 To stay the providence of some high powers That govern us below. Cas. Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph Thorough the streets of Rome ? 86 Act V, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Bru. No, Cassius, no : think not, thou noble Roman^ That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ; m He bears too great a mind. But this same day Must end that work the ides of March begun ; And whether we shall meet again I know not. Therefore our everlasting farewell take : 115 For ever, and for ever, farewell Cassius ! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile ; If not, why then this parting was well made. Cas. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus ! If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed ; 120 If not, 'tis true 'this parting was well made. Bru, Why, then, lead on. O, that a man might know The end of this day's business ere it come 1 But it sufficeth that the day will end. And then the end is known. Come, ho ! away ! [^Exeunt. Scene II. The same. The field of battle. Alarum, Enter Brutus and Messala. Bru. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills Unto the legions on the other side. \_Loud alarum. Let them set on at once ; for I perceive But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing. And sudden push gives them the overthrow. 5 Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down. \Exeunt. Scene III. Another part of the Held. Alarums, Enter Cassius and Titinius. Cas. O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly ! Myself have to my own turned enemy : 87 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 3. This ensign here of mine was turning back ; I slew the coward, and did take it from him. Titin, O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early ; 5 Who, having some advantage on Octavius, Took it too eagerly : his soldiers fell to spoil, Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed. Enter Pindarus. Pin, Fly further off, my lord, fly further off ; Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord : 10 Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off. Cas. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius ; Are those my tents where I perceive the fire ? Titin, They are, my lord. Cas. Titinius, if thou lovest me. Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him, 15 Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops And here again ; that I may rest assured Whether yond troops are friend or enemy. TiHn. I will be here again, even with a thought. \_Exit Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill ; 20 My sight was ever thick ; regard Titinius, And tell me what thou not'st about the field. \_Pindarus ascends the hill. This day I breathed first : time is come round. And where I did begin, there shall I end ; My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news ? 25 Pin. \_Ahove.'\ O my lord ! Cas. What news ? Pin. \_Above.~\ Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the spur; Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him. 30 88 Act V, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. Now, Titinius ! Now some light. O, he lights too. He's ta'en. [SAou/.^ And, hark ! they shout for joy. Cas, Come down, behold no more. Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the spur, — Act V. Scene 3. O, coward that I am, to live so long, To see my best friend ta'en before my face ! 35 \_Pindarus descends. Come hither, sirrah : In Parthia did I take thee prisoner ; And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, That whatsoever I did bid thee do. Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath ; Now be a freeman : and with this good sword, 41 89 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 3. That ran through Caesar's bowels, search this bosom. Stand not to answer : here, take thou the hilts ; And, when my face is covered, as 'tis now. Guide thou the sword. \_Findarus stabs him,'] Caesar, thou art revenged, 45 Even with the sword that killed thee. \_.Dies, Fin, So, I am free ; yet would not so have been, Durst I have done my will. O Cassius ! Far from this country Pindarus shall run, Where never Roman shall take note of him. \_ExiL Re-enter Titinius with Messala. Mes, It is but change, Titinius ; for Octavius 51 Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, As Cassius' legions are by Antony. Titin. These tidings will well comfort Cassius. Mes, Where did you leave him ? Titin. All disconsolate, 55 With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill. Mes, Is not that he that lies upon the ground ? Titin, He lies not like the living. O my heart ! Mes. Is not that he ? Titin, No, this was he, Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting sun, 60 As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night. So in his red blood Cassius' day is set ; The sun of Rome is set ! Our day is gone ; Clouds, dews, and dangers come ; our deeds are done ! Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. 65 Mes, Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy's child, Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 90 Act V, Scene 3. Julius Caesar. The things that are not ? O error, soon conceived, Thou never comest unto a happy birth, 70 But kill'st the mother that engendered thee. Tithi. What, Pindarus ! where art thoU; Pindarus ? Mes. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears : I may say, thrusting it ; 75 For piercing steel and darts envenomed Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus As tidings of this sight. Titin. Hie you, Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while. \_Exit Messala. Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius ? 80 Did I not meet thy friends ? and did not they Put on my brows this wreath of victory. And bid me give it thee ? Didst thou not hear their shouts ? Alas, thou hast misc6nstrued every thing ! But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow ; " 85 Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace. And see how I regarded Caius Cassius. By your leave, gods : this is a Roman's part : Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart. [ Kills himself. Alarum. Re-enier Messala, with Brutus, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius. Bru, Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie ? 91 Mes. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it. Bru. Titinius' face is upward. Cato. He is slain. 91 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 4. Bru. O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet ! Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords 95 In our own proper entrails. \^Low alarums. Cato. Brave Titinius ! Look, whether he have not crowned dead Cassius ! Bru, Are yet two Romans living such as these ? The last of all the Romans, fare thee w^ell ! It is impossible that ever Rome 100 Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man than you shall see me pay. I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time. Come, therefore, and to Thasos send his body : His funerals shall not be in our camp, 105 Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come ; And come, young Cato ; let us to the field. Labeo and Flavins, set our battles on : 'Tis three o'clock ; and, Romans, yet ere night We shall try fortune in a second fight. \_Exeunt no Scene IV. Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter ^ fightings Soldiers of both armies ; then Brutus, young Cato, Lucilius, and others. Bru, Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads ! Cato. What bastard doth not ? Who will go with me ? I will proclaim my name about the field ; I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend ; 5 I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I ; Brutus, my country's friend ; know me for Brutus ! \^Exit. 92 Act V, Scene 4. JuHus Caesar. LuciL O young and noble Cato, art thou down ? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ; lo And mayst be honored, being Cato's son. First Sold. Yield, or thou diest. LuciL Only I yield to die ; There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight ; [ Offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honored in his death. First Sold. We must not. A noble prisoner ! 15 Sec. Sold. Room, ho ! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. First Sold. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general. Enter Antony. Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord. Ant, Where is he ? LuciL Safe, Antony ; Brutus is safe enough : 20 I dare assure thee that no enemy Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus : The gods defend him from so great a shame ! \Vhen you do find him, or alive or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himself. 25 Ant, This is not Brutus, friend ; but, I assure you, A prize no less in worth : keep this man safe ; Give him all kindness ; I had rather have Such men my friends than enemies. Go on, And see whether Brutus be alive or dead ; 30 And bring us word unto Octavius' tent How every thing is chanced. \Exeunt 93 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 5. Scene V. A7iother part of the field. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and VOLUMNIUS. Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. Cli, Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord. He came not back : he is or ta'en or slain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus : slaying is the word ; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. [ Whispering. 5 Cli. What, I, my lord ? No, not for all the world. Bru, Peace, then ! no words. Cli. I'll rather kill myself. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius. [ Whispering, Dar. Shall I do such a deed ? Cli. O Dardanius ! Dar. O Clitus 1 10 Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee ? Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief. That it runs over even at his eyes. Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius ; list a word. 15 Vol. What says my lord ? Bru. Why, this, Volumnius : The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me Two several times by night ; at Sardis once, And this last night here in Philippi fields ; I know my hour is come. Vol. Not so, my lord. 20 Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes ; Our enemies have beat us to the pit ; \_Low alarums. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, 94 Act V, Scene 5. Julius Caesar. Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, 25 Thou know'st that we two went to school together : Even for that our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. \Alarum still, Cli. Fly, fly, my lord ; there is no tarrying here. 30 Bru, Farewell to you ; and you ; and you, Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep ; Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen, My heart doth joy that yet in all my life I found no man but he was true to me. 35 I shall have glory by this losing day. More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. So, fare you w^ell at once ; for Brutus' tongue Hath almost ended his life's history : 40 Night hangs upon mine eyes ; m^y bones would rest, That have but labored to attain this hour. \_Alarum. Cry within^ '' Fly, fly, fly 1 " Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. Bru. Hence ! I will follow. \_Exeunl Clitus^ Dardanius^ and Volumnius. I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord : Thou art a fellow of a good respect ; 45 Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it : Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato ? Stra. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord. Bru. Farewell, good Strato. ^Buns on his sword. Caesar, now be still : 50 I killed not thee with half so good a will. \^Dies. 95 Julius Caesar. Act V, Scene 5. Alarum, Retreat, Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, LuciLius, a7id the army, - ' Oct What man is that ? Mes, My master's man. Strato, where is thy master? Stra, Free from the bondage you are in, Messala : The conquerors can but make a fire of him ; 55 For Brutus only overcame himself, This was the noblest Roman of them all — Act V. Scene 5, And no man else hath honor by his death. LuciL So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. / 96 Act V, Scene 5. Julius Caesar. Oct, All that served Brutus, I will entertain them. 60 Fellow, wilt thou. bestow thy time with me ? Stra. Ay, if Messala.will prefer me to you. Oct. Do so, good Messala. Mes. How died my master, Strato ? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. 65 Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee. That did the latest service to my master. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators, save only he. Did that they did in envy of great Caesar ; 70 He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, '* This was a man ! " 75 Oct. According to his virtue let us use him. With all respect and- rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most hke a soldier, ordered honorably. So call the field to rest ; and let's away, 80 To part the glories of this happy day. \_Exeunt. 97 A LIST OF THE PERSONS OF THE DRAMA, WITH THE SCENES IN WHICH THEY APPEAR Julius C^sar I, 2; II, 2; III, i. OCTAVIUS C^SAR, a triutnvir after the death ^/Julius Caesar . IV, i ; V, I, 5. Marcus Antonius, a triumvir after the death of ]\x\m?> C2Q%2iX . I, 2; II, 2; III, I, 2; IV, i; V, h 4, 5- M. ^MiLius Lepidus, a trium- vir after the death of Caesar. Ill, i; IV, i. Cicero, a senator I, 2, 3. PuBLius, a senator II, 2; III, I. PopiLius Lena, a senator . . Ill, i. Marcus Brutus, a conspirator . I, 2; II, i, 2; III, i, 2; IV, 2, 3; V, I, 2, 3, 4, 5. Cassius, a conspirator . . . . I, 2, 3; II, I; III, I, 2; IV, 2, 3; V, I, 3. Casca, a conspirator . . . . I, 2, 3; II, i, 2; III, i. Trebonius, « «^r . . . II, I, 2; III, I. LiGARlus, a conspirator . . . II, I, 2. Decius Brutus, a conspirator . I, 2; II, I, 2; III, I. Metellus Qi^i-^^-^^ a conspirator II, i, 2; III, I. CiNNA, a conspirator . . . . I, 3; II, I, 2; III, I. Flavius, a tribune I, i. M.^.^^5\A^3^, a tribune . . . .1,1. Artemidorus, a sophist of Cnidos . II, 3; III, I. A Soothsayer I, 2; II, 4; HI, I. CiNNA, a poet Ill, 3. A Poet IV, 3. LuciLius, a friend to Brutus and Cassius IV, 2, 3; V, I, 3, 4, 5. TiTiNius, a f'iend to Brutus and Cassius IV, 2, 3; V, i, 3. 98 List of Characters. Messala, a friend to Brutus and Cassius IV, 3; V, I, 2, 3, 5. Young Cato, a friend to Brutus and Cassius V, 3, 4. VOLUMNIUS, a friend to Brutus ^«^ Cassius V, 3, 5. Varro, servant to Brutus . . . IV, 3. Clitus, servant to Brutus . . . V, 5. Claudius, servant to Brutus . . IV, 3. Strato, servant to Brutus . . V, 3, 5. Lucius, servant to Brutus ... 11, i, 4; IV, 2, 3. Dardanius, servant to Brutus . V, 5. PiNDARUS, servant to Cassius . IV, 2; V, 3. Calpurnia, wife to Caesar . . I, 2; II, 2. Portia, wife to Brutus . . . I, 2; II, i, 4. Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, etc. SCENE. — During a great part of the Play at Rome; after- wards AT Sardis, and near Philippi. 99 APPENDIX THE WRITING AND PUBLICATION OF JULIUS CiESAR Shakespeare produced his plays and poems during a period of about twenty years, which is almost equally divided by the close of the i6th century. *' Tulius Caesar" must have been written be-^ ®?. ® -' . . ''Julius tween 1598 and 1603. Most critics agree now caesar" in in assigning it to the year 1601. It therefore Shake- stands almost exactly at the middle of the spe^e's dramatist's career, and is the first of those great tragedies, "Hamlet," '^Othello," ''King Lear,'' '' Macbeth," '' Antony and Cleopatra," which have given their author world-wide and enduring fame. In 1601 all the popular comedies had been wTitten ; wdth the excep- tion of " Romeo and Juliet " none of the tragedies had appeared. Thus " Julius Caesar " marks an important turning-point in Shakespeare's life and dramatic work. From external and internal evidence the play belongs to the same period as " Hamlet." The language of these two great tragedies has several points of marked „, , resemblance. As Brandes and other critics tion of have pointed out, there is also an interesting ''Julius similarity in the chief characters of the two ^^^^''^^„ plays. " Brutus and Hamlet are both thrust into action from a . life of contemplation : Brutus is an idealist ; Hamlet, a scholar and dreamer. Both are unfit for the work they are called upon to do, and both, in the end, bungle it badly ; Hamlet from delay and uncertainty, lOI Appendix. Brutus from mistaken judgment. The study of the ideahst thrown into the world of action must have appealed to Shakespeare's imagination, and those critics do not seem far afield who consider Brutus the sketch from which Hamlet is built up."^ A passage in ^'Hamlet" which enumerates the prodigies that preceded Caesar's death, an allusion to Roman suicides, and the statement by Polonius, " I did enact Julius Caesar : I was killed i' the Capitol; Brutus killed me," — all seem to indicate that *' Julius Caesar " was written, if not in the same year, cer- tainly not long before the greatest of all Shakespeare's tragedies, '^Hamlet." As far as we know, '^ Julius Caesar" was never printed in the poet's lifetime. As was the case with nineteen of The first ^'^ other plays, it first appeared in print in publication the Folio of 1623 (see page 133), where it of '' Julius stands among the tragedies before " Macbeth " CsBsar." ^^j following ^^ Coriolanus " and ^'Timon of Athens." The fact that the play is remarkably short has been accounted for by supposing that the copy which came into the hands of the publishers, Heminge and Con- dell, had been cut down and adapted for stage purposes. There are some reasons, moreover, for thinking that this shortening was done by Shakespeare's friend, Ben Jonson. Whether this is so or not, the text is remarkably free from doubtful passages and evident misprints. The fact, also, that the poet's diction in 1601 was simpler,'his style more flowing, and to modern readers easier than it became in the later tragedies, makes " Juhus Caesar " one of the least difficult plays for young people to read. 1 George C. D. Odell, Shakespeare's " Julius Caesar," page xviii. 102 SOURCES OF JULIUS C^SAR Young persons studying a Shakespearian play for the first time are often surprised, and sometimes even dis- tressed, to learn that the stories of the drama- tist's works were not original with him. Ori^i- Originality 1- r 1 1 1 1 • i- . r of plot un- nality of plot seems to them the chief requisite important of greatness ; a worker in second-hand material falls under their scorn ; they begin to wonder just why this borrower of other men's ideas has been rated so highly and so profoundly admired by their elders. This is not strange. Action, movement, complication of events, — all that goes to make up a plot, — is interesting and there- fore important to boys and girls. They are naturally more concerned with w^hat the hero does^ than how he does it, or how he talks, or w^hat he is like. Moreover, in our novel-reading, inventive age, — in our age of '^movies" and of everything new and startling, — it is not surprising that false values are given to things just because they are original. It is difficult even for mature people to see that originality of plot in story or play is really the least im- portant element in the final test of its worth. They must be reminded that any one with a Httle clever inventive- ness can work out a complicated and entirely new series of events. Thousands of short stories and novels appear every year in our magazines with plots that are skilfully woven and often remarkably original. Beyond that they have nothing to recommend them, so that after a mo- ment's curiosity to see " how they come out," they are completely neglected and soon forgotten. The fact that 103 Appendix. in plot and action they are ^^ something new " and clever gives them no claim whatsoever to the enduring fame of literature. It is therefore not a sign of weakness or of a shallow mind to find Shakespeare making use of material already at his disposal. On the contrary, it is evi- speare not dence of wisdom and good judgment. He a writer of was above bothering his head with new plots original ^^ amuse his audiences. All his mind and skill and strength were needed for more essen- tial things. Old plays, Italian novels, Plutarch's Lives, chronicles of English history, furnished him with incidents and characters with which to work. The best elements of these he skilfully chose, made over, and combined ; but next to nothing did he himself invent. The force of his wonderful genius was spent in drawing character so clearly and so true to human nature that the men and women of his plays became distinct personalities that have lived now for three hundred years in the hearts of the people. Falstaff, Portia, Shylock, Rosalind, Hamlet, Desdemona, Macbeth, Juliet, Lear, — these are as real as any who have lived in the annals of history. Then again, the lan- guage and the poetry of the plays, the sentiments, the wit, and above all the artistic blending of thought and charac- ter and action, are his and his alone. The sources of the stories which Shakespeare used no one ever reads. They are commonplace, flat, and unworthy of our interest. Yet these same stories remoulded, polished, and filled with the inspiration of Shakespeare's genius, have become master- pieces of literature. It is well that Shakespeare was not attracted to the in- venting of elaborate and original plots, for he must have 104 Sources. been busy enough as it was. In their demand for novelty in stage attractions audiences then required a new play, on an average, every sixteen or seventeen Advantages days. Intense rivalry existed between the of using old various companies of actors. In their struggle material for popularity, which meant their daily bread, ^ ^^^* playwrights turned off their work with astonishing rapid- ity. Thus in the twenty years of his London activity Shakespeare wrote, in whole or in part, about forty plays. ^' Driven by the necessity of speed on the one hand, and by anxiety to catch the popular fancy on the other, is it any wonder that he never stopped to devise a plot ? What need was there that he should do so ? The manager of the company had many an old play which, at one time or another, had been submitted to the test of public ap- proval. ... To such plays, if selected for revision, a cer- tain amount of popularity was thus assured in advance ; and as for the plot, — the barest skeleton sufficed for Shakespeare. He knew that he could remodel it into fair proportions and relume it with life. Of all that goes to make up one of his dramas, the plot in itself, in its mere outlines, is of less importance than any other element in it. Of course, in the nature of things, it is not to be sup- posed that after he had selected the old play to be re- juvenated he either adhered to it closely, or refused hints from other sources. Old ballads, books of travels, histo- ries, the gossip of the day, — all were put under contribu- tion. As Emerson says : ' Every master has found his materials collected, and his power lay in his sympathy with his people, and in his love for the materials he WTought in.' " ^ 1 Dr. H. H. Furness: New Variorum Edition, " Merchant of Venice." 105 Appendix. In ^* Julius Caesar/' though Shakespeare is not writing history or chronicle, he is dramatizing a chapter of his- ,,- . tory. The theme of his tragedy is the fall of Caesar," a Caesar, — the conspiracy, the assassination, and historical the fate of the men who brought about his rage y. death. The poet, to be sure, treats historical facts with great freedom. Exactness of time and place give way to the necessity of making a good story ; for his purpose is not primarily to educate his audience in details of Roman history, but rather to make an interesting, stir- ring play. Yet the spirit and ideals of the times are well portrayed in the drama; indeed, the person may well count himself fortunate whose introduction to the times of Caesar is Shakespeare's drama rather than the pages of a textbook of history. The history of Julius Caesar had probably been seen on the stage, in several different forms, before Shakespeare's time. A Latin play on this subject was performed at Oxford in 1582, from which the poet's '^ Et tu, Brute " may have been taken. References are also found to other plays dealing with the same theme, though it is extremely doubt- ful whether Shakespeare was at all influenced by them. His chief source of '' Julius Caesar" was Plu- speare's tarch's lives of Caesar, Brutus, and Antony, use of written in Greek in the first century a.d., and Plutarch's translated into French by Jacques Amyot, Bishop of Auxerre, in 1559. Twenty years later, when Shakespeare was seven years old, this French edition was translated into English by Sir Thomas North, and it was this version of Plutarch that the poet read and used when writing his play. Probably in no other of his works did he follow his sources so closely. Many expres- 106 Sources. sions he took word for word from North, and several pas- sages are little more than the language of the biographer turned into stately blank verse. The structure of the play, however, is wholly the poet's own. So, too, are the life, the color, the movement, the imaginative powder, the lines that have become familiar quotations, — every- thing that makes the tragedy a work of art and a master- piece of literature. The sources from which he drew his facts are seldom read. Except to the student of the poet's methods they are of but little interest to-day ; whereas the play, which Shakespeare's genius made out of them, lives and gives pleasure to young and old in the twentieth cen- tury, as it did in the days of Queen Elizabeth three hun- dred years ago. 107 SELECTIONS FROM NORTH'S PLUTARCH The following two short passages from ^or\h''s Plutarch will suffice to show how closely Shakespeare often followed the words of the biographies which he used when writing his play. 1. // rejoiceth 7ny heart that not one of my friends hath failed me at ?ny need. . . . For as for me, I think myself happier than they that have overcome, considering that I leave a perpetual fame of virtue and honesty, the which our enemies the conquerors shall never attain unto by force or money, etc. In V, 5, Z?)~Z^'> w^ fi^^ these words cast into verse and ennobled by Shakespeare. Countrymen, My heart doth joy that yet in all my life I found no man but he was true to me. I shall have glory by this losing day More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. 2. For it was said that Antonius spake it openly divers times that he thought that of all them that had slain Caesar, there was none but Brutus only that was moved to do it, as thinking the act commendable of itself; but that all the other conspirators did conspire his death for some private malice or envy that they otherwise did bear against him. In the play we have these four lines : — All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar ; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. V, 5, 69-72. Following are a number of the more interesting pas- sages in North's Plutarch which the poet followed closely, T08 Plutarch. or from which he took an idea. It will be a profitable study to compare word for word these selections with the corresponding lines in the play. Nothing can show more clearly the method of the dramatist, or the skill which he used in working over his prose material into poetry of the highest type. 1. Caesar sat to behold that sport upon the pulpit for orations, in a chain of gold, apparelled in triumphant manner. Antonius, who was Consul at that time, was one of them that ran this holy course. So when he came into the market-place, the people made a lane for him to run at liberty, and he came to Caesar, and presented him a diadem wreathed about with laurel. Whereupon there rose a certain cry of rejoicing, not very great, done only by a few appointed for the purpose. But when Caesar refused the diadem, then all the people together made an outcry of joy. Then Antonius offering it him again, there was a second shout of joy, but yet' of a few. But when Caesar refused it again the second time, then all the whole people shouted. Caesar, having made this proof, found that the people did not like of it, and thereupon rose out of his chair and commanded the crown to be carried unto Jupiter in the Capitol. After that there were set up images of Caesar in the city, with diadems upon their heads like kings. Those the two tribunes, Flavius and Marullus, went and pulled down, and furthermore, meeting with them that first saluted Caesar as king, they committed them to prison. F\ut2irch, /ulms Ccesar. Shakespeare, I, 2. 2. Furthermore, there was a certaine Soothsayer, that had given Caesar warning long afore, to take heed of the day of the Ides of March (which is the fifteenth of the moneth), for on that day he should be in great danger. That day being come, Caesar going unto the Senate-house, and speaking merrily to the sooth- sayer, told him, ^'The Ides of March be come." ** So they be," softly answered the soothsayer, '^but yet are they not past." P\ut?irch, /ulms CcBsar. Shakespeare, I, 2, and III, i. 109 Appendix. 3. Then going to bed the same night, as his manner was, and lying with his wife Calpurnia, all the windows and doors of his chamber flying open, the noise awoke him, and made him afraid when he saw such light ; but more, when he heard his wdfe Calpurnia, being fast asleep, weep and sigh, and put forth many fumbhng lamentable speeches ; for she dreamed that Caesar was slain, and that she had him in her arms. . . . Insomuch that Caesar, rising in the morning, she prayed him, if it were possible, not to go out of the doors that day, but to adjourn the session of the Senate until another day. And if that he made no reck- oning of her dream, yet that he would search further of the soothsayers by their sacrifices, to know what should happen him that day. Thereby it seemed that Caesar likewise did fear or suspect somewhat, because his wife Calpurnia until that time was never given to any fear and superstition, and that then he saw her so troubled in mind with this dream she had. But much more afterwards, when the soothsayers having sacrificed many beasts one after another, told him that none did like them ; then he determined to send Antonius to adjourn the session of the Senate. Plutarch, /^//^i" CcEsar, Shakespeare, II, 2. 4. But when they had opened Caesar's testament, and found a liberal legacy of money bequeathed unto every citizen of Rome, and that they saw his body (which was brought into the market- place) all be mangled with gashes of swords, then there was no order to keep the multitude and common people quiet, but they plucked up forms, tables, and stools, and laid them all about the body ; and setting them afire, burnt the corse. Then when the fire was well kindled, they took the fire-brands, and went unto their houses that had slain Caesar, to set them afire. Other also ran up and down the city to see if they could meet with any of them, to cut them in pieces : howbeit they could meet with never a man of them, because they had locked themselves up safely in their houses. There was one of Caesar's friends called Cinna, that had a marvellous strange and terrible dream the night IIO Plutarch. before. He dreamed that Caesar bade him to supper, and that he refused, and would not go ; then that Caesar took him by the hand, and led him against his will. Now Cinna, hearing at that time that they burnt Caesar's body in the market-place, notwith- standing that he feared His dream, and had an ague on him besides, he went into the market-place to honour his funerals. When he came thither, one of mean sort asked him what his name was? He was straight called by his name. The first man told it to another, and that other unto another, so that it ran straight through them all, that he was one of them that mur- thered Caesar (for indeed one of the traitors to Caesar was also called Cinna as himself), wherefore taking him for Cinna the murtherer, they fell upon him with such fury that they presently despatched him in the market-place. Plutarch, Julius CcEsar. Shakespeare, HI, 2 and 3. 5. Now Caesar, on the other side, did not trust him over- much, nor was without tales brought unto him against him, howbeit he feared his great mind, authority, and friends. Yet, on the other side also, he trusted his good nature and fair condi- tions. For intelligence being brought him one day that Antonius and Dolabella did conspire against him, he answered "That these fat long-haired men made him not afraid, but the lean and whitely-faced fellows,^' meaning by that Brutus and Cassius. Plutarch, Brutus, Shakespeare, I, 2. 6. But for Brutus, his friends and countrymen, both by divers procurements and sundry rumours of the city, and by many bills also, did openly call and procure him to do that he did. For under the image of his ancestor Junius Brutus (that drave the kings out of Rome) they wrote, " Oh, that it pleased the gods thou wert now alive, Brutus ! " and again, *^ That thou wert here among us now ! '^ His tribunal or chair where he gave audience during the time he was praetor was full of such bills : " Brutus, thou art asleep, and art not Brutus indeed." Plutarch, Brutus, Shakespeare, II, i-. Ill Appendix. 7. Brutus, who went to see him being sick in his bed, and said unto him, '' Ligarius, in what time art thou sick? '' Ligarius rising up in his bed, and taking him by the right hand, said unto him, " Brutus," said he, " if thou hast any great enterprise in hand worthy of thyself, I am whole/' Plutarch, Brutus. Shakespeare, II, 2. 8. Then perceiving her husband was marvellously out of quiet, and that he could take no rest, even in her greatest pain of all she spake in this sort unto him : " I being, O Brutus," said she, ^^ the daughter of Cato, was married unto thee ; not to be thy bed-fellow and companion in bed and at board only, like a harlot, but to be partaker also with thee thy good and evil fortune. Now for thyself, I can find no cause of fault in thee touching our match ; but for my part, how may I shew my duty towards thee and how much I would do for thy sake, if I cannot constantly bear a secret mischance or grief with thee, which requireth secrecy and fidelity? I confess that a woman's wit commonly is too weak to keep a secret safely, but yet, Brutus, good education and the company of virtuous men have some power to reform the defect of nature. And for myself, I have this benefit moreover, that I am the daughter of Cato and wife of Brutus. This not- withstanding, I did not trust to any of these things before, until that now I have found by experience that no pain or grief what- soever can overcome me." With those words she shewed him her wound on her thigh, and told him what she had done to prove herself. Brutus was amazed to hear what she said unto him, and lifting up his hands to heaven, he besought the gods to give him the grace he might bring his enterprise to so good pass, that he might be found a husband worthy of so noble a wife as Porcia ; so he then did comfort her the best he could. Plutarch, Brutus. ^ Shakespeare, II, i. 9. When this was done, they came to talk of Caesar's will and testament and of his funerals and tomb. Then Antoniusj thinking good his testament should be read openly, and also I 12 Plutarch. that his body should be honourably buried, and not in hugger- mugger, lest the people might thereby take occasion to be worse offended if they did otherwise, Cassius stoutly spake against it. But Brutus went with the motion and agreed unto it, wherein it seemeth he committed a second fault. For the first fault he did was when he would not consent to his fellow-conspirators that Antonius should be slain ; and therefore he was justly accused that thereby he had saved and strengthened a strong and griev- ous enemy of their conspiracy. The second fault was w^hen he agreed that Caesar's funerals should be as Antonius would have them, the which indeed marred all. For first of all, when Caesar's testament was openly read among them, whereby it appeared that he bequeathed unto every citizen of Rome 75 drachmas a man, and that he left his gardens and arbours unto the people, which he had on this side of the river Tiber, in the place W'here now the temple of Fortune is built, the people then loved him, and were marvellous sorry for him. Afterwards, when Caesar's body was 'brought into the market-place, Antonius making his funeral oration in praise of the dead, according to the ancient custom of Rome, and perceiving that his words moved the common people to compassion, he framed his elo- quence to make their hearts yearn the more, and taking Caesar's gown all bloody in his hand, he laid it open to the sight of them all, shewing what a number of cuts and holes it had upon it. Therewithal the people fell presently into such a rage and mutiny, that there was no more order kept amongst the common people. For some of them cried out, '^Kill the murtherers !" others plucked up forms, tables, and stalls about the market- place, as they had done before at the funerals of Clodius, and having laid them all in a heap together, they set them on fire, and thereupon did put the body of Caesar, and burnt it in the midst of the most holy places. And furthermore, when the fire was thoroughly kindled, some here, some there, took burning firebrands, and ran with them to the murtherers' houses that killed him, to set them on fire. Howbeit the conspirators, for- 113 Appendix. seeing the danger before, had wisely provided for themselves and fled. Plutarch, Brutus, Shakespeare, III, 2. 10. About that time Brutus sent to pray Cassius to come to the city of Sardis, and so he did. Brutus, understanding of his coming, went to meet him with all his friends. There both their armies being armed, they called them both Emperors, Now as it commonly happened in great affairs between two per- sons, both of them having many friends and so many captains under them, there ran tales and complaints betwixt them. Therefore, before they fell in hand with any other matter, they went into a little chamber together, and bade every man avoid, and did shut the doors to them. Then they began to pour out their complaints one to the other, and grew hot and loud, ear- nestly accusing one another, and at length fell both a-weeping. Their friends that were without the chamber, hearing them loud within, and angry between themselves, they were both amazed and afraid also, lest it would grow to further matter, but yet they were commanded that no man should come to them. Plutarch, Brutus. Shakespeare, IV, 3. 11. This Phaonius at that time, in despite of the doorkeepers, came into the chamber, and with a certain scoffing and mocking gesture, which he counterfeited of purpose, he rehearsed the verses which old Nestor said in Homer: My lords, I pray you hearken both to me. For I have seen moe years than suchie three. Cassius fell a-laughing at him ; but Brutus thrust him out of the chamber, and called him dog, and counterfeit Cynic. Howbeit his coming in brake their strife at that time, and so they left each other. Plutarch, Brutus, Shakespeare, IV, 3. 12. So, being ready to go into Europe, one night very late (when all the camp took quiet rest) as he was in his tent with a 114 Plutarch. little light, thinking of weighty matters, he thought he heard one come in to him, and casting his eye towards the door of his tent, that he saw a wonderful strange and monstrous shape of a body coming towards him, and said never a word. So Brutus boldly asked what he was, a god or a man, and what cause brought him thither? The spirit answered him, " I am thy evil spirit, Brutus, and thou shalt see me by the city of Philippes." Brutus being no otherwise afraid, replied again unto it, " Well, then I shall see thee again." Plutarch, Briitus. Shakespeare, IV, 3. 13. Now the night being far spent, Brutus as he sat bowed towards Clitus, one of his men, and told him somewhat in his ear : the other answered him not, but fell a-weeping. Thereupon he proved Dardanus, and said somewhat also to him ; at length he came to Volumnius himself, and speaking to him in Greek, prayed him for the studies' sake which brought them acquainted together, that he would help him to put his hand to his sword, to thrust it in him to kill him. Volumnius denied his request, and so did many others; and amongst the rest, one of them said, there was no tarrying for them there, but that they must needs fly. Then Brutus, rising up, "We must fly indeed," said he, " but it must be with our hands, not with our feet." Having so said, he prayed every man to shift for himself, and then he went a little aside with two or three only, among the which Strato was one with whom he came first acquainted by the study of rhetoric. He came as near to him as he could, and taking his sword by the hilt with both his hands, and falling down upon the point of it, ran himself through. Others say that not he, but Strato (at his request) held the sword in his hand, and turned his head aside, and that Brutus fell down upon it, and so ran himself through, and died presently. Plutarch, Brutus, Shakespeare, V, 5 . 115 FAMILIAR PASSAGES IN JULIUS CiESAR When you first take a play of Shakespeare's in hand, you soon begin to have the feehng that you have read this before, though you know you have not. The fact is, Shakespeare expressed the general mind and common feeling of us all in phrases so packed with meaning, so full of insight into human nature, so happy in figure and choice of words, that we have adopted them and added them to our stock of everyday language. Only the Bible has contributed more of these stock phrases to modern Enghsh speech. The result is that we are constantly quoting words and even whole lines from Shakespeare's plays without knowing it. Some of these unconscious quotations are ''the king's Enghsh," ''sweets to the sweet," " at a pin's fee," " what's in a name ? " " last, but not least," " single blessedness," " the short and long of it," "forever and a day," "in my mind's eye," "the game is up," "what's done is done," '* the pink of courtesy," "parting is such sweet sorrow," "I'll not budge an inch," etc. With the exception of "Hamlet," "Macbeth," and " The Merchant of Venice," none of the plays have con- tributed a greater number of familiar phrases to our speech to-day than " Julius Caesar." Here are some of the most interesting. Others may be found in Bartlett's "Familiar Quotations." It will interest you to try to place them by recalling when and where and by whom they were spoken. How many of them had you heard before you studied the play ? Learn as many of them as you can. ii6 Familiar Passages. I The dogs of war. 2. It was Greek to me. 3. He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men. 4. This was the noblest Roman of them all 1 5. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather. 6. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 7. Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights. 8. Beware the ides of March. 9. The choice and master spirits of this age. 10. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat does this our Caesar feed. That he is grown so great ? 11. A friend should bear his friend's infirmities. 12. We must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. 13. Et tu. Brute ! 14. Men at some time are masters of their fates. 15. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 16. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream. 17. I only speak right on. 18. The last of all the Romans, fare thee well I 19. But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there And none so poor to do him reverence. 20. If we do meet again, why, we shall smile ; If not, why then this parting was well made. 21. There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. 117 Appendix. 22. Honour is the subject of my story. 23. Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look ; He thinks too much : such men are dangerous. 24. Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears. 25. The livelong day. 26. I had rather be a dog and bay the moon Than such a Roman. 27. This was the most unkindest cut of all. 28. Though last, not least in love. 29. Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. 30. 'Tis a common proof That lowliness is young ambition's ladder. 31. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. 32. I am no orator as Brutus is, But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man. 33. O, that a man might know The end of this day's business ere it comes. 34. An itching palm. 35. Who is here so base that would be a bondman ? ;^6, Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. 37. Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. ;^S. The evil that men do lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones. 39. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. 40. A dish fit for the gods. 118 WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT SHAKESPEARE The facts that we know with absolute certainty about William Shakespeare can be given in a few meagre para- graphs. Some bare, prosaic records in Strat- -, - . ford and in the Stationers' Register in Lon- known don, a few signatures, a will, a deed or two, about an application for a coat-of-arms, an occasional Shake- - , . ,. . speare. mention of his name m court proceedings, in lists of actors, and in the works of fellow authors, — this is about all we have as the basis for a life of one of the greatest men that the world has produced. Traditions and quaint fanciful stories exist, as we might expect, in infinite number and variety. Many of .these date back to the poet's own time, and therefore may have in them at least an element of truth. By far the greater number, however, gained popularity nearly a century after his death, when the curiosity of an age intensely interested in the drama began to look back and talk about the most marvellous of all the makers of plays. Few of these later traditions can be relied upon. Yet from the few scrappy facts that we have, supplemented by the earlier legends, and above all by a study of the plays themselves, it is possible to make a story of the poet's life, which, though by no means complete, is full enough to give us a fairly clear understanding of his growth in fame and business prosperity, and his development as a dramatist. It is not strange that we know so little about Shake- speare. His age was not one of biographical writing. To-day a man of not one tenth part of his genius is be- sought by reporters for interviews concerning his life ; 119 Appendix. he is persuaded by admiring friends to write his mem- oirs ; as his end approaches, every important newspaper „„ in the land has an article of several columns Why we know so ready to prmt the instant that word of his death little about comes over the wire. Three hundred and fifty Shake- years ago nothing of this kind was possible. speare. Newspapers and magazmes, genealogies and contemporary history did not exist. Encyclopaedias, dic- tionaries of names, directories, ^'blue-books," and volumes of '' Who's Who " had not been dreamed of. Personal cor- respondence was meagre, and what few letters were written seldom were preserved. Above all, a taste for reading the lives of men had not been formed. In fact, it was not until fifty years after Shakespeare's time that the art of biograph- ical writing in England was really born. When we remem- ber, in addition to these facts, that actors and playwrights then held a distinctly inferior position in society, and by the growing body of Puritans were looked upon with con- tempt and extreme disfavor, it is not surprising that no special heed was paid to the life of Shakespeare. On the contrary, it is astonishing that we know as much as we do about him, — fully as much as we know about most of the writers of his time, and even of many who lived much later. In the records of the i6th century there are numer- ous references to Shakespeares living in the midland , , counties of England, especially in Warwick- father, John shire. For the most part, they seem to have Shake- been substantial yeomen and plain farmers of speare. sound practical sense rather than men of learn- ing or culture. Some of them owned land and prospered. Such a one was John Shakespeare, who moved to Strat- I20 Shakespeare's Life. ford-on- A von about 1550 and became a dealer in malt and corn, meat, wool, and leather. He is referred to some- times as a glover and a butcher. Probably he was both, and dealt besides in all the staples that farmers about the village produced and brought to market to sell. The fact that he could not write, which was nothing unusual among men of his station in the i6th century, did not prevent his prospering in business. For more than twenty years after the earliest mention of his name in the Stratford records, he is spoken of frequently "and always in a way to show us that his financial standing in the community was steadily increasing. He seems also to have been a man of affairs. From one office to another he rose until in 1568 he held the position of High Bailiff, or Mayor of Stratford. Eleven years earlier his fortunes had been increased by his marriage to Mary Arden, the daughter of a prosperous farmer of the neighboring village of Wilmcote, who be- queathed to his daughter a house, with fifty acres of land, and a considerable sum of money. It is not fair, there- fore, to speak of the father of William Shakespeare, as some have done, as ^' an uneducated peasant," or as "a provincial shopkeeper." At the time of the birth of his illustrious son he was one of the most prominent men in Stratford, decidedly well-to-do, respected and trusted by all. The year before John Shakespeare brought his bride from Wilmcote to Stratford-on-Avon, he had purchased a house in Henley Street, and there he and „, , . . . The house his wife were living when their, children were j^ which born. It was a cottage two stories high, with Shake- dormer windows, and of timber and plaster spearewas construction. Though frequently repaired and built over during the three hundred and fifty years that 121 Appendix. have passed, it still remains in general appearance much the same as it looked in 1556. Simple, crude, plain, -^ it is nevertheless the most famous house in England, if not in the world. Noted men and women from all parts of the earth have visited Stratford to see it. Essays, stories, and poems have been written about it. Preserved in the care of the Memorial Society, it is the shrine of the liter- ary pilgrim and the Mecca of tourists who flock during the summer to the quaint old village ou the Avon. For here, in a small bare room on the second floor, William Shakespeare was born. How little we know of Shakespeare, compared with even a minor poet of the 19th century, is shown by the D t of the ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^ certain of the exact date poet's birth, on which the greatest of all poets was born. April 23, The records of Holy Trinity Church in Strat- 1564. £^^j show that the child was baptized on April 26, 1564, and since it was the custom at that time for the baptism of children to take place on the third day after birth, it has been generally agreed that William was born on April 23, and that date is celebrated as his birthday. Tradition tells us, and probably truthfully, that it was also on this date, April 23, in 16 16, that he died. Of the poet's boyhood we know next to nothing. It is a mistake, however, to assume that he lacked educational opportunities. There was in Stratford an ex- ake- cellent free Grammar School such as a bailiff's speare's ... boyhood ^^^ would attend, and to which it is reasonable and school- to suppose that the boy was sent. Here he i^^V^^'^'^' ^^"^^^^ chiefly Latin, for education then in England consisted almost entirely of the classics, especially Vergil, Ovid, Horace, and the comedies 122 Shakespeare's House at Stratford-on-Avon The Room where Shakespeare was Born Shakespeare's Life. of Plautus and Terence. The comment of Ben Jonson, his fellow dramatist of later years, that Shakespeare had '' small Latin and less Greek," should not be taken too literally. Compared with the profound scholarship of a college-trained man like Jonson, the Stratford boy had, to be sure, but little knowledge of the classics. Yet there is every evidence to show that he understood both Latin and French pretty well, and that he knew the Bible thor- oughly. It is clear, too, that by nature he was a boy of remarkable powers of observation and keenly retentive memory, who used every opportunity about him for ac- quiring information and ideas. Whether he went to school or not would have made but little difference to one whose mind possessed rare powers of developing and training itself. Like Burns and Lincoln, he was educated more by people and the world of Nature about him than by books and formal teaching. Ordinarily a boy of the i6th century would remain at the Grammar School from seven to fourteen, but there is a well-founded tradition that Shakespeare left _,. ^ Five years m 1597, when he was thirteen years old, and in Stratford never attended school again. About this time after leav- the records show that his father's financial dif- j^.^^'^^^^!: 1577-1682. Acuities began. Another pair of hands was needed at home to help in the support of the family, and William w^as the oldest son. Just how he was occupied, however, between his fourteenth and eighteenth years we cannot say. Probably he assisted his father in his declin- ing business. One of the bits of Stratford gossip, collected by the antiquarian Aubrey, states that he was ^^ in his younger years a school-master in the country," and another tells us that ^* when he was a boy he exercised his father's 123 Appendix. trade. When he killed a calf, he would doe it in a high style and make a speech/' It may be, as another reference seems to imply, that he was employed in the office of a lawyer. But we must not put too much confidence in these traditions, which, like all stories passed on by word of mouth, grew and changed as the years went by. As much as we should like to know of his employment, his reading, and all the circumstances that were developing his mind and character during these five important years, we must remember that " there is no reason why anything should have been recorded ; he was an obscure boy living in an inland village, before the age of newspapers, and out of relation with people of fashion and culture. During this period as little is known of him as is known of Cromwell during the same period ; as little, but no less. This fact gives no occasion either for surprise or scepticism as to his marvellous genius ; it was an entirely normal fact con- cerning boys growing up in unliterary times and in rural communities."^ The first really authentic record we have of Shakespeare after his school days is that of the baptism of his daughter „. Susanna, on May 26, 1583. The previous year, riageto when only eighteen, he had married Anne Anne Hath- Hathaway, the daughter of a farmer in the away, 1682. neighboring village of Shottery. This pictur- esque hamlet was reached then from Stratford, as it is to- day, by a delightful foot-path through the wide and fertile fields of Warwickshire. Perhaps no other spot connected with the poet's life, except the house in which he was born, is dearer to people's hearts than the quaint old thatched- 1 H. W. Mabie : " William Shakespeare, Poet, Dramatist, and Man," page 51. 124 Anne Hathaway' s Cottage at Shottery Interior of Anne Hathaway' s Cottage Shakespeare's Life. roof building known as "Anne Hathaway's cottage "; for it still stands, at least in part, as it was when the " youth- ful lover went courting through the meadows, past the * bank where the wild thyme blows,' to Shottery.'' Two years after the birth of Susanna, in February, 1585, twins were born, and soon after the youthful husband and father left his native town to seek his fortunes in London. It would be most interesting to know when and how and just why Shakespeare left Stratford, but no documents have been found that throw any certain light upon this portion of his life. It has generally igg^^jj^- been assumed that he found his way to the Stratford: metropolis soon after the birth of his twins. ^^ poach- Probably he walked by the highway through J?^ ^^ Oxford and Wycombe, or if he rode it was on horseback, purchasing a saddle-horse at the beginning of his journey, as was the custom then, and selling it upon his arrival in the city. There is an old tradition that, with other young men of the village, he had been involved in a poaching escapade upon the estate of Sir Thomas Lucy. In the first regular biography of Shakespeare written by Nicholas Rowe in 1709, nearly a hundred years after the poet's death, the story of this adventure is given as an actual fact. '^ He had, by a misfortune common enough among young fellows, fallen into ill company, and among them some that made a frequent practice of deer-stealing, engaged him with them more than once in robbing a park that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, near Stratford. For this he was prosecuted by that gentleman, as he thought, somewhat too severely ; and, in order to revenge that ill-usage, he made a ballad upon him, and though this, probably the first essay of his poetry, be lost, 125 Appendix. yet it is said to have been so very bitter that it redoubled the prosecution against him to that degree that he was obliged to leave his business and family in Warwickshire and shelter himself in London." No trace of this ballad has been found ; indeed, the whole story rests on gossip, and must not be taken too literally. It is supported, in a way, by the fact that Justice Shallow in '' The Merry Wives of Windsor " is unquestionably a humorous sketch, or cari- cature, of Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote Hall, thus sug- gesting that whether he had been prosecuted and harried out of town by his wealthy neighbor or not, the youthful poet had some personal reasons for ridiculing the head of the Lucy family. Still another account explains Shakespeare's departure from Stratford by stating that he joined a company of , strolling players. Though this may possibly too narrow have been the means of his finding congenial a field for travelling companions, it seems more natural Shake- ^^ suppose that he left his native villap:e much speare. as a boy to-day leaves a remote country town and goes to the city to seek his fortune. His father's affairs, we know, had been steadily declining ; his own family was growing ; business in many trades through the midland counties was poor ; any ambitious and high- spirited youth would have become restless and discon- tented. Vyhat was more natural, under these circumstances, than the breaking of home-ties and moving to London for its larger opportunities ? The traditions that Shakespeare, upon his arrival in the capital about 1587, was employed in a printer's shop and a lawyer's office, are extremely doubtful. It seems much more likely that he became connected with the 126 the London theatres. Shakespeare's Life. theatre at once, either as a call-boy in the building itself, or as one of those who held the horses on which gallants of the city rode to the play-house. That he Shake- should have turned to the theatre rather than '„ ' speares to business to get a foothold in London is not first connec- strange. Companies of players had frequently tion with visited Stratford in his boyhood. Indeed, the people of his native town seem to have been exceptionally fond of the drama, a fact, as Mr. Mabie has pointed out, *^ of very obvious bearing on the educa- tion of Shakespeare's imagination and the bent of his mind toward a vocation." As a lad of eleven he probably saw the pageant at Kenilworth Castle, in honor of Queen Elizabeth's visit to the Earl of Leicester. The processions and gorgeous costumes of this occasion, the tableaux and scenes set forth by the actors from the city must have made a profound impression on the mind of the imagina- tive boy. Moreover, it was a time of widespread interest in everything dramatic. When Shakespeare w^as born in 1564, there was not a single building in London devoted to the presentation of plays. At the time of his death, fifty- two years later, there were at least nine. The develop- ment of the drama from simple morality plays and historical pageants given in tavern-yards and on village greens, to " Julius Caesar " and " Hamlet," covered the period of the poet's youth; so that when he arrived in London, more than ever before or since in English history, the theatre was of compelling interest and attraction. The six years after his arrival in London are a blank. We must imagine him rapidly rising through various posi- tions at the Rose or the Curtain, for a young man of his genius and enterprise would not long remain obscure. 127 Appendix. It is certain that he became an actor before he wrote for the stage. By 1592, however, he had evidently earned suffi- His earliest cient fame as a playwright to stir the jealousy work as of Robert Greene, a rival author, who in that actor and ygg^j- refers bitterly to him as "in his owne con- •Dlavwrifflit ceit the only Shakes-scene in a countrie," and then parodies a line from an early play that is attributed to Shakespeare. While as an actor he was learning stage- craft in the best possible school, he was undoubtedly trying his prentice hand by mending old plays and con- tributing bits to the work of his older companions. These earliest dramatic writings may have been numer- ous, but they are either entirely lost or hidden in plays credited to other men. His progress from a clerk in a country store to a writer of drama is thus admirably de- scribed by Sidney Lee : "A young man of two-and- twenty, burdened with a wife and children, he had left his home in the Httle country town of Stratford-on-Avon in 1586 to seek his fortune in London. Without friends, without money, he had, like any other stage-struck youth, set his heart on becoming an actor in the metropolis. Fortune favoured him. He sought and won the humble office of call-boy in a London playhouse ; but no sooner had his foot touched the lowest rung of the theatrical ladder than his genius taught him that the topmost rung was within his reach. He tried his hand on the revision of an old play, and the manager was not slow to recognize an unmatched gift for dramatic writing.^ It was not until 1593, when Shakespeare was twenty- nine, that he appeared openly in the field of authorship. On April 18 of that year his long poem '^ Venus and 1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Ehzabethan Playgoer," page 32. 128 Shakespeare's Life. Adonis " was entered at Stationers' Hall for publication. It was printed by Richard Field, a Stratford man who had come to London somewhat earlier than ,^ - , The first the poet, and though published without a name books on the title-page, the dedication to the Earl published of Southampton was signed " WiUiam Shake- ^^^erhis . name, speare." The same is true of ^^Lucrece," which was registered in May of 1594. These two long poems must have had wide popularity, for they are often praised by critics of the day, and in the poet's own life- time several editions of both were issued. They were the means by which Shakespeare became known as an author, for though some of his dramatic work may have been printed before this, plays were not regarded then as literature to be read, whereas these poems were issued under the poet's supervision for the reading public, and were thus *' the first fruits of his conscious artistic life." Both as actor and playwright, Shakespeare's fame rap- idly increased after 1594; in fact, the eight years that follow^ed saw him rise to the height of his powers. His name stands first on the list of ^^o^^ess in . . fame and ^' principal Comedians " who acted Jonson's fortune. *' Ev^ry Man in his Humour " in 1598. Francis Meres in his " Palladis Tamia," published in the same year, speaks of the ''mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakespeare," and then proceeds to name twelve of his plays and compare him favorably with the Roman drama- tists Seneca and Plautus. Even if this list is incomplete we see that already before 1598 he had written three of his most charming comedies, one of them " The Merchant of Venice," and at least one of the tragedies that ranks '- among his very greatest. From then until his retirement 129 Appendix. to Stratford fourteen years later, there are frequent refer- ences to his plays which appeared with astonishing rapid- ity. The dates when they were written and first acted are often uncertain, but before 1612 he had produced more than twenty dramas which together constitute the most marvelous body of literary work that ever came from a human mind. As an actor he did not continue to excel. If we may trust the sentiments of the sonnets, it is clear that he thoroughly disliked this part of his profession. Probably after 1604 he ceased to appear on the stage altogether. Financially it is certain that he was prosperous. We know, for one thing, that he owned shares in several London theatres, notably the Globe, where many of his own plays were first presented to enthusiastic London audiences. Then his successful appHcation to the Col- lege of Heralds in 1599, on behalf of his father, for a grant of coat-of-arms ; his purchase of several pieces of property in his native town ; the records of lawsuits to recover debts which were owed him ; numerous references which show us that he was looked upon as a man of means and standing ; his friendship wdth Ben Jonson and other learned men of his day, — these facts, with the traditions of later generations, all convince us that the author of ^' Hamlet " and ^* Macbeth " was a successful man of affairs, as well as one of the most prominent and best- loved dramatists of his time. Although Shakespeare made London his home after 1584 or 1585, it is probable that he often visited Stratford where his family continued to reside. An old legend states that he frequently put up at the Crown Inn in Oxford on his way to and fro. Documents exist, moreover, which 130 Holy Trinity Parish Church, Stratford-on-Avon Good frend for Iesvs sNf.E. for be are, TO Dice 'RE DVST ENCLOASEDKARL^. Blest be f man i spared -nts stones, AND CVRST BE HE ^ MOVES MY BONES- Inscription on Shakespeare's Tomb lVDlC!OpYLr/M,GEN!0 SoCRATEMyvKTE MaRONEM IeHHA 'rKGIT.PQlVLVs'MA^.REi; OlYMIVS HABET 'Stay Passenger v/hy goes t hovby soFASTy READ IF HO/ CANST, WHOM ENVKMS Dl^'H HATi PLAST, mri i\ Tiis HONvpErg^ 6hakspeahE:N)^'R who he , Q/ICK NAIVRE DIDE:WHC)SE NAI€J)0TI DECK t T()r'1RE . Far mork.ten cosT: Sieh ait ,^ He har wr i tt, Lea/es living are bv r page /eg serve his wit 'f\ Inscription on Shakespeare's Monument, Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon . Shakespeare's Life. show that he was constantly investing money in real estate in his native village, to which he seems to have looked forward as a pleasant retreat after the I^etirement from Lon- strenuous days of actor, theatre-manager, and ^^^ j612 playwright were over. Probably the breaking off of London ties was gradual ; but it is doubtful whether he was much in the city after 1612, the year in which '* Henry VIII," the last of his plays, was written. He now appears in the records as '* William Shakespeare, Gent, of Stratford-on-Avon " ; and there he lived with his well-won honors, respected and loved, for four years. In the early spring of 161 6, Shakespeare's youngest daughter, Judith, was married. A month later he made his will, and on April 25 the register of Christ -q^^^-^ •„ Church in Stratford shows that he was buried. Stratford, According to the lettering on the monument April 23, 1616 he died on April 23, and that date, the date of his birth fifty-two years before, has been generally ac- cepted as the day of his death. He was buried in the chancel of the fine old church, not far from the spot where he had been christened, and over the place where he lies may still be seen the quaint lines which tradition tells us he himself wrote to be inscribed above him : — Good Frend for Iesus Sake Forbeare, To DiGG THE Dust Encloased Heare : Blest be Y^ Man Y* Spares thes Stones, And Curst be he Y^ Moves My Bones. Whether the poet wrote these threatening words or not, no sexton has disturbed his remains, and the grave of William Shakespeare in the beautiful church by the river he loved has remained unopened. SHAKESPEARE'S PLAYS AND POEMS One of the problems of Shakespearean scholars for more than a century has been to determine the exact D'ffi If yell's in which the various plays were written. of deter- For just as we have no details of the poet's life, mining the so are the records of his work either extremely dates of the ^leagre or entirely lacking. Not a single manuscript of anything that Shakespeare wrote has been preserved. The fire which burned the Globe theatre to the ground in 1613 may have destroyed the original pages of all the dramas : and yet, interesting and precious as they would be to us to-day, it is doubt- ful whether we can attribute to their loss our lack of knowledge as to just when each was written. We must remember that in Ehzabethan times plays were not con- sidered literature to be read. After they had served their purpose on the stage and passed out of popular favor, they were set aside and wholly neglected. As long as there was the slightest chance of their being in demand at the theatre, the author and companies of actors did their best to keep them out of print altogether, apparently in the belief that attendance at the playhouse would suffer if the drama in book form was in the hands of the people. Moreover, among the most cultivated men of the day, and especially among the growing body of Puritans, there was a strong prejudice against the whole theatrical business. By them, actors were held in low esteem, and plays were looked upon as things of light, or even questionable, character. The modern conception that regards the drama as a high and artistic form of literature had not been born. 132 Plays and Poems. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that dur- ing his own Ufetime only sixteen of Shakespeare's thirty- seven plays appeared in print. These editions, which are known to-day as the Quartos, were small, cheaply-made, paper-bound pamphlets usually The Quarto sold for a sixpence each. It is generally be- ^^ piays lieved that they were issued without the poet's consent, and probably even against his wishes. Several of them were undoubtedly printed from shorthand notes taken slyly at a performance in the theatre. Others may have been set up from the soiled and tattered copies of a needy actor who had been secretly bribed to part with them. The confusion and strange blunders in the text sho^ us that these Quartos were the careless and hasty work of piratical printers ; indeed, it is almost certain that Shakespeare himself did not revise or in any way prepare a single one of them for the press. Inexact and inadequate as are the pirated Quarto editions, they would probably be the only plays of Shake- speare known to us to-day had it not been for ^^ j.-^.^^ a remarkable book that appeared seven years Folio after his death. In 1623 two of the poet's edition of friends put forth in a single volume his com- ® ^ ^^^' plete dramatic works. These men, John Heminge and Henry Condell, — names which are forever linked with Shakespeare's, — were actors in the same company with him, and, with Burbage, were joint owners of the Globe Theatre. The great dramatist, as a token of lifelong friendship, in his will bequeathed to them and to Burbage the sum of twenty-six shillings and eight pence to buy rings ; and they in turn collected and edited his plays *' to keepe the memory of so worthy a friend and fellow ^33 Appendix. alive." It is a large volume of 901 pages in two columns of fine print, and on the title-page, besides a crude en- graving of the poet, are these words : Mr. William SHAKESPEARES COMEDIES, HISTORIES, & TRAGEDIES Published according to the True Original Copies. London Printed by Isaac laggard, and Ed. Blount. 1623. This is perhaps the most important volume in the whole range of English literature, for in it appeared for the first time in print twenty of Shakespeare's plays, among them ^^The Tempest," ^'Twelfth Night," "Julius Caesar," " Macbeth," '' Cymbeline," and others of the dramatist's masterpieces. Heminge and Condell had access to stage copies of these plays which in another generation might have been lost or destroyed by fire ; so that their work, coming when it did, saved for us a large portion of the finest poetry and deepest wisdom of Shakespeare's mind. It is no wonder that the 156 extant copies of this notable book are preserved as priceless treasures ; for no other single volume ever did a greater service to literature than this Folio of 1623. Although Heminge and Condell must have known in many cases the exact years in which Shakespeare was at work upon his various plays, they did not consider such Plays and Poems. information of sufficient interest to include it in their edition. Well might we spare some of the tiresome eulogies, which they printed in their preface, for a page or two of facts that they so easily might have included. As it stands, however, the First Folio helps but little in arranging the chronology of the comedies and tragedies. And yet, in spite of all difficulties, by painstaking research scholars have come to a pretty general agreement upon the dates of composition of most of the plays. The evi- dence which they have used may be divided into two kinds, external and internal, — that is, evi- Dates of dence found outside of the plays, and evidence composi- found within the works themselves. External tion: evidence consists of such information as has external evidence been obtained from records of performances in diaries and letters ; quotations and allusions in other books ; entries in the register of the Stationers' Company, which for nearly three hundred years regulated the publi- cation of all books in England ; records of the Master of Revels at Court, and of course the dates on the title-pages of the Quartos themselves. A good illustration of this sort of evidence is the journal of a certain Dr. Simon Forman, in which he mentions the fact that in 1610 and 161 1 he witnessed performances of ^'Macbeth," ^* Cym- beline," and '' The Winter's Tale " at the Globe. An- other is the celebrated passage in the '' Palladis Tamia," or '^ Wit's Treasury," of Francis Meres, which was pub- hshed in 1598 ** As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy and Tragedy among the Latines, so Shakespeare among y® English is the most excellent in both kinds for the stage ; for Comedy, witness his Getlerne of Verona^ his Errors^ his Love labors lost, his Love ^3S Appendix. labours wonne, his Midsummers night dreame, & his Mer- chant of Venice: for Tragedy, his Richard the 2, Richard the j^ Henry the 4^ King John^ Titus Andronicus^ and his Romeo and Juliet^ Such references as these give a defi- nite year, later than which the plays referred to could not have been written. With a starting point thus settled, it is often possible to work backward and fix definitely the date of composition. Internal evidence, though seldom as exact as external, and therefore more difficult to interpret, is much more abundant. It may be nothing more than a composi- reference in the mouth of an actor to events tion: or books the dates of which are known, such internal ^^ ^^le words in the Prologue to " Henry V '' evidence. . . that refer to the expedition of the Earl of Essex to Ireland in 1599. More often it deals with con- siderations of the metre, language, and form of the work itself. By studying such matters as classical allusions, the use of Latin words, kinds of figures of speech, puns, variations of verse and prose, and many other changing pecuharities of the poet's method, scholars have been able to trace the development of Shakespeare as a writer, and thus assign many of his plays to their probable year on no other evidence than their style. For instance, the date of ^' Julius Caesar " is generally agreed to be not earlier than 1601 from the poet's use of the word '^eternal" in the phrase ^^ the eternal devil." As late as 1600 Shakespeare was using *' infernal" in such expressions, but after that year he began to use *' eternal," owing probably to the increasing objection among Puritans of London to the use of profanity on the stage. Even such a simple matter as the number of rhyming lines in a play may help to 136 • Plays and Poems. place it approximately. In '' Love's Labour's Lost," the earliest of the comedies, there are 1028 rhymes; whereas in ^^The Winter's Tale" and ^' The Tempest," written twenty years later, there are none and two respectively. It is therefore safe to assume that as Shakespeare's style developed he used rhyme less and less, so that tragedies with but few rhyming lines, such as " Antony and Cleo- patra " and ^' Coriolanus," may be assigned, if on no other ground, to the later years of his life. Such matters of structure and style are by no means always certain. They are delicate to handle and require sound judgment and long experience. Yet it is by this sort of internal evi- dence, rather than by external facts, that the chronology of the plays has been determined. The following table gives the result of research and comparison, of proof and conjecture, on the part of Shake- spearean scholars. There still remain, of course, many differences of opinion ; some of ^^^bable •^ , -11 r dates of the the dates are less certam than others ; a few pjays. are almost entirely the result of guesswork. Yet when we consider the meagre data upon which stu- dents have built their conclusions, their lack of agreement seems remarkably slight and insignificant. Of the thirty-seven plays in the following table, the sixteen which appeared in Quarto editions during the poet's life were *' Titus Andronicus," 1594; p, *' Richard II," '^Richard III," and ^* Romeo panted and Juliet," 1597 ; [' 1 Henry IV " and " Love's before Labour's Lost," 1598; '^ The Merchant of ^^^^• Venice," "Henry V," "Much Ado About Nothing," " 2 Henry IV," and "A Midsummer Night's Dream," 1600 ; " The Merry Wives of Windsor," 1602 ; " Hamlet," 5 a < H c O B o en 1 1=1 I— 1 > H-l > (U CO > c H- 1 o s o 3 l-H rH cS a > V > a; > w Q o U 1 > o i2 2 u w o >> s o C o > O C! 6 a O o S Q >-• a; £ S < a; o P 's H y > o O en > CJ bjo c o o < o < 4-» o < <2 -a o tuo < > On OS ON ON 00 On 1 Q O <2 t- H 138 O O c 2 -s W3 (U < o c o B H a a. U c >-^ G O < c3 1— 1 > c. U § 'o 'a; (U Oh s H OJ G IS < 1 N 5 1 in 5 1 5 1 1 o vD 1- H- 1- ■1 H > 139 Appendix. 1603 ; ** King Lear," 1608 ; " Troilus and Cressida/' and *' Pericles," 1609. In addition to these, a Quarto of ** Othello " was printed in 1622. The other twenty plays were not published, so far as we know, until 1623, when Heminge and Condell included them in the First Folio. The periods shown in the table are, of course, wholly artificial. Shakespeare himself had no such division of p . - - his works in mind, and it is dangerous for us Shake- to-day to press very far the suggestion of speare's de- clearly defined compartments for the plays, velopment. ^j^^ development of the dramatist, like that of any artist, was gradual. Changes in style, in method, in views of life took place not in a single year, but were the result of slowly expanding power and growth of character. In that growth there w^ere no sudden breaks or unaccountable transformations. The mind that created *' Hamlet" in 1602 was the same mind that created *' Twelfth Night " in 1600, no matter how black the line that separates them into two different periods. Yet a glance at the divisions in the table reveals two or three interesting facts. When Shakespeare has gained a foothold in the London theatres he first turns his hand to old plays, touching them up, remodelling, and improving. This is his of experi- natural work as an apprentice playwright. As ineiit,1590- he gains confidence and strikes out for him- self, he experiments with all the forms of play- writing that then are known. Thus in ^' Love's Labour's Lost " we find one of the very few w^orks the plot of which is his own invention ; in ^^ The Comedy of Errors " and *' The Two Gentlemen of Verona " he imitates the Latin comedies of Plautus ; in '' Richard III " and '' King John " 140 Plays and Poems. he attempts historical tragedy, and in ^* Romeo and JuHet " he gives us tragedy, full of romance and passion, drawn from Italy whence so many of his stories of later years are to come. The four years from 1590 to 1593 are evi- dently years of feeling about, testing himself, and experi- menting. Naturally he writes with great rapidity : he is full of enthusiasm and the impetuous rush of youth. All that he does shows signs of a beginner and an unsettled purpose. We therefore do not expect to find highly fin- ished work. As a matter of fact, with the exception of *' Romeo and Juliet" and "Richard III," none of the plays of this early period are acted on the stage to-day or often read. It is now that Shakespeare writes his two long story poems, — "Venus and Adonis " in 1593 and " Lucrece " in I qq4. In them he retells classical Wends -^ . . The poems, taken chiefly from the Roman poet Ovid. Their elaborate and florid language reminds us of similar narrative poems of the period. In their spirit and style they resemble the early plays, but in one important respect they differ : they are published with their author's name on the title-page. Unlike the Quartos of the dramas, Shake- speare prepares these poems for the press. Their popu- larity surpasses even that of the comedies. Seven editions of "Venus and Adonis" are issued between 1593 and 1602, and five of " Lucrece " between 1594 and 1616. Among the reading public of his day he becomes more widely known by them than by his work for the stage. He is now, in the eyes of the learned world, an author and creator of real literature. By 1594 the years of apprenticeship are over; Shake- speare has found where his powers lie. He is still young 141 Appendix. and ardent ; the sadder and more serious thin*gs of life have not yet come to him ; he sympathizes with the The great demands of the London populace to be amused, comedies, The results are the last of the histories and 1594-1600. seven years of comedies, — the fullest, and we may well believe, the happiest' time of his life as a dramatist. His power of expression, his skill in con- structing a play, — above all, his keen insight into human nature, — develop with astonishing rapidity, until he is the favorite playwright of his day. In wit and enthusi- asm, in pure poetry and ^^ gusto," in creation of interesting and delightful character, the plays from ^^ A Midsummer Night's Dream" to *' Twelfth Night" stand unmatched. Not one of them has faded after three hundred years : they still are acted and read with profit and pleasure. Together they form *'the rich period of unsurpassable comedy." But youth and rollicking fun, high spirits and unbroken happiness, do not last. With the end of the century comes The great ^ turning-point in Shakespeare's life. Per- tragedies, haps it is personal grief and suffering ; possi- 1601-1609. ^3iy [^ ig pQQ^ health and for the first time the thought that his own death may not be far away ; pos- sibly it is disappointment in his friends or his ambitions ; or it may be simply a deeper wisdom coming with maturer years that now begins to make him think more and more of the greater and more serious things of life. The pas- sions, the temptations, the moral struggles of mankind now absorb his interest. Naturally, comedy and history are inadequate for the expression of these deeper thoughts and emotions. With "Julius Caesar" begin the great tragedies, that '' series of spectacles of the pity and terror 14.2 Plays and Poems. of human suffering and human sin without parallel in the modern world." ^ Even the three comedies of these years are comedies only in name. Throughout them there is the atmosphere of suffering and sin. Their theme and spirit are more in keeping with " Hamlet " and ^' King Lear " than with the merrymaking and joyous fun of '' As You Like It " and '' A Midsummer Night's Dream." Thus every play of this period has a tragic motive, for during its nine years the mind and heart of the poet are con- cerned with the saddest and deepest things of human life. In 1609, toward the close of this period of tragedy, Shakespeare prints his volume of sonnets, one hundred and fifty-four in number. Some of them must _ . The sonnets, have been written much earlier. Their style and youthful spirit show that ; but besides, as early as 1598, Francis Meres spoke of Shakespeare's " sugred Son- nets among his private friends." Yet many of them show such power, such masterful handling of profound thought, such noble poetic form, that they seem to come from the years that produced " Hamlet " and " Othello." Probably the poet has been writing them off and on ever since he came to London, and now in 1609 he puts them at last into book form, It is well that he does so ; for to-day every one who enjoys poetry reads them with delight. Unlike " Venus and Adonis " and " Lucrece " they do not fade ; they are among the most perfect sonnets in our lan- guage, and they contain some of the finest lines that ever came from Shakespeare's pen. Here are two of the most admired : 1 " The Facts about Shakespeare," Neilson and Thorndike. The Mac= millan Company, 1915. H3 Appendix. 29. When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state. Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. 116. Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds. Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken; Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come ; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. The storm and stress of tragedy, however, does not con- tinue to the end. In the last years Shakespeare turns 144 Plays and Poems. away from the bitterness and sorrow of life, and leaves us as his final message three romantic comedies of de- lightful charm. The calm and quiet humor of ^rj^g j^ter these plays is very different from the boisterous comedies, farce of "The Merry Wives of Windsor" and 1610-1612. the buffoonery of the clowns in the earlier dramas ; but their beauty and sweetness and idealism make a happy and fitting close to the poet's work. In "Henry VTII," which shows brilliant flashes of his genius, and in " The Two Noble Kinsmen," which is not generally included among his plays, he writes in collaboration with John Fletcher, or with some other of the younger dramatists of these later years. He has made his fortune ; he knows that his work is done ; he is looking fondly toward his Stratford home, and so he turns over his place to other men. First, — imitating, feeling his way, experimenting, rap- idly and eagerly trying everything about him ; then seven full years of whole-souled joy of living, enthu- Suixinisiry. siasm, laughter, and fun; then deeper emo- tions and profound thought upon the saddest and most serious things of life ; then a happier time of calm reflec- tion and repose, followed by retirement from active work in London to the peaceful village home on the Avon ; then, after four quiet years, the end. Thus, in a way, we begin to understand the development of Shakespeare's mind and character by a study of the years in which he wrote his plays and poems. 145 SHAKESPEARE'S POPULARITY IN HIS OWN DAY There somehow exists a quite general feeHng that Shakespeare's genius was not properly appreciated in his own time ; that dramatists, now ranked far «^««^^ below him, were more popular with audiences speare ' ^ ^ widely ap- in the days of Queen Elizabeth and King predated in James I. Whether this notion comes from the ... . scarcity of facts which we have concerning the poet's life, it is hard to say. Certainly such a belief must be ranked among the most unfortunate of popular errors. There is ample evidence to show that he was not only popular with uneducated London trades- men and apprentices who thronged the pit of the Globe, but in the best critical judgment of the day he was con- sidered the first of poets and dramatists. '' Throughout his lifetime," says Sidney Lee, ^'and for a generation afterwards, his plays drew crowds to pit, boxes, and gal- lery alike. It is true that he was one of a number of popular dramatists, many of whom had rare gifts, and all of whom glowed with a spark of genuine literary fire. But Shakespeare was the sun in the firmament : when his light shone, the fires of all contemporaries paled in the playgoer's eye."^ Many bits of evidence have come down to us that show how high a place in people's hearts the plays of Shake- Evidences speare held in their author's lifetime. For of his popu- instance, when he had been in London but ten larity. years he was summoned by Queen Elizabeth to play before her and the court at Greenwich in the 1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Ehzabethan Playgoer." 146 Popularity. Christmas holidays. The favor which King James showed his tragedies is well known. ''Hamlet" was acted several times in the first year of its production., both in London and at Oxford and Cambridge. Four editions were printed in eight years, — an unusual demand for those times. Moreover, the name of Shakespeare ap- pears in the works of contemporary authors more than that of any other dramatist, and almost invariably it is coupled with praise and admiration. He is the " mellif- luous '' and '' honey-tongued " poet. One sets him above Plautus and Seneca; another prefers him to Chaucer, Gower, and Spenser ; another declares that '' he puts them all down, ay, and Ben Jonson, too." In the preface of the first complete edition of his plays, published seven years after his death, the compilers, who were his fellow-actors and friends, wrote of him that he was one '' who as he was a happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His mind and hand went together ; and what he thought, he uttered with that easinesse that w^ee have scarse received from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our province, who onely gather his works and give them you, to praise him. It is yours that reade him. And there we hope, to your divers capacities, you will finde enough both to draw and hold you ; for his wit can no more lie hid than it could be lost. Reade him, therefore ; and againe and againe ; and if then you doe not like him, surely you are in some manifest danger not to understand ^™-" BenJon- A part of the introductory material of this son's praise First FoHo edition of the plays consists of o^ Shake- poems of praise contributed by the poet's admirers. Among the most famous are the noble lines H7 Appendix. of Ben Jonson, scholar, poet, and dramatist. Here are the words of a thoughtful critic who knew the theatre from the stage and from the audience, — a man who had been associated with Shakespeare throughout hi^ London career and who understood, better than any other, his place in the hearts of English people. TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND WHAT HE HATH LEFT US To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame ; While I confess thy writings to be such, As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. Soul of the age ! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage ! My Shakespeare, rise ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further to make thee a room : Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give. That I not mix thee so my brain excuses, — I mean wath great, but disproportioned Muses ; For if I thought my judgment were of years, I should commit thee surely with thy peers. And tell how far thou didst our Lyly outshine. Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe's mighty line. And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek From thence to honour thee I would not seek 148 Popularity. For names, but call forth thund'ring ^schylus, Euripides and Sophocles to us, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead. To life again to hear thy buskin tread, And shake a stage ; or when thy socks were on, Leave thee alone for a comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time ! And all the Muses still w^ere in their prime, When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm ! Nature herself was proud of his designs, And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines. Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit. The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please ; But antiquated and deserted lie. As they were not of Nature's family. Yet must I not give Nature all ; thy Art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion ; and that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses' anvil, turn the same, And himself with it, that he thinks to frame ; Or for the laurel he may gain to scorn ; For a good poet's made, as well as born. 149 Appendix. And such wert thou ! Look how the father's face Lives in his issue, even so the race Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines In his well turned and true filed lines, In each of which he seems to shake a lance, As brandished at the eyes of ignorance. Sweet Swan of Avon ! what a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza and our James ! But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere Advanced, and made a constellation there I Shine forth, thou Star of Poets, and with rage Or influence chide or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourned like night. And despairs day but for thy volume's light. Even without these lines and numerous other bits of unqualified praise from contemporary pens, the fact that the plays were financially successful, and that from them their author made for those times a small fortune, shows us that Shakespeare was truly appreciated by all sorts of people in his own day. Before his death he had taken the place which he now holds, — that of the foremost of English poets and dramatists. [50 SHAKESPEARE'S FAME SINCE HIS DEATH During the three hundred years since Shakespeare's death the popularity of his plays on the stage has natu- rally varied somewhat with the changing taste «, , of the times. Toward the end of his life a speareon decline in the drama had begun, so that the the stage generation which followed was more pleased ^"^^® 1616. by the coarse blood-and-thunder tragedies of Webster, Ford, and Massinger than by the more profound and more artistic work of Shakespeare. Certain ones of the plays that very early ceased to be popular on the stage have never since come into favor. Most of the histories, two or three of the earUest comedies, " All's Well That Ends Well," '^ Measure for Measure," ''Pericles," ''Timon of Athens," "Troilus and Cressida," and " Coriolanus " have seldom been acted since they were first produced. The subjects of some of these are not suitable to present in a modern theatre ; in others, as in the histories, there is not enough action or dialogue to satisfy an audience to-day. Yet these make but a small portion of the poet's work. With the exception of the twenty years, 1 640-1 660, when all theatres in England were closed under the censorship of Cromwell's Puritan Government, there never has been an age that has not had the opportunity to see its fore- most actors in the greater comedies and tragedies that came from Shakespeare's pen. During the reign of Charles II, in the period known as the Restoration, and for the forty years that followed, literary taste was at its lowest mark. Naturally Shake- speare suffered at a time when the coarse and artificial If Appendix. plays of Wycherley, Vanbrugh, and Farquahar fascinated both the nobility and the common people of London. His dramas, to be sure, were still presented f ^Shak^^ ^^ ^^^ stage, but they were generally worked speare over, or even rewritten, to suit the strange during the fancies of the age. With music, new scenes, Restora- ^^^ ^^^ characters they were mutilated almost tion, 1660- , , . , J . ■ . 1740. beyond recognition. From one point of view they were spoiled ; yet it is significant that even to the theatre-goers of 1680 they still had enough vitality and imaginative power to be made the foundation of popular and successful entertainments. Dryden, the chief poet of the time, admired the genius of their author, and wrote prefaces for them in their renovated form. Betterton, the greatest actor of the age, was regarded at his best as the Prince in " Hamlet," a part which he played on many occasions, and always to enthusiastic houses. Sam- uel Pepys, who kept a remarkable diary between 1661 and 1669, records in his journal three hundred and fifty-one visits to the London theatres during these eight years. On forty-one of these occasions he saw plays by Shake- speare, or plays based upon them. Though Pepys was entirely unable to appreciate the poetry and all the finer qualities of what he heard, — he speaks in especially slighting terms of the comedies, — still it is interesting to know that he had even the opportunity, in eight short years, to witness fourteen different works of the great Elizabethan dramatist. This, too, in England's darkest age of literary appreciation ! The middle of the eighteenth century saw a new and genuine enthusiasm for Shakespeare. Scholars began to study his life and his work. New editions were published, 152 Fame. with notes and comment. The plays were revived on the stage in their original and true form. A great interest in all that he had said and thought was born, — an mterest which grew through the years that actors in followed, and still is growing. The foremost Shake- actors of all times have turned to him for their speare's plays, most ambitious work, and the crowning of their professional achievement. Perhaps the greatest of them all was David Garrick. " From his first triumph in Richard III, in 1741, to his farewell performance of Lear in 1776, he won a series of signal successes in both tragedy and comedy, in Hamlet, Lear, Macbeth, Richard III, Falconbridge, Romeo, Hotspur, lago, Leontes, Posthu- mus, Benedick, and Antony. Garrick's services to Shake- speare extended beyond the parts which he impersonated. He revived many plays, and though he garbled the texts freely, yet in comparison with earlier practice he really had some right to boast that he had restored the text of Shakespeare to the stage. Further, his example led to an increased popularity of Shakespeare in the theatre and afforded new incentives for other actors. Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Gibber, and Mrs. Pritchard were among the women who acted with Garrick. Macklin, by his revival of Shy- lock as a tragic character, Henderson, by his impersona- tion of Falstaff, and John Palmer in secondary characters, as lago, Mercutio, Touchstone, and Sir Tobey, were his contemporaries most famous in their day."^ After Gar- rick came Mrs. Kemble, Edmund Kean, Mrs. Siddons, Macready, and Booth, — names remembered to-day chiefly in connection with the Shakespearean roles which they nobly played. 1 Neilson and Thorndike : " The Facts about Shakespeare," page 174. 153 Appendix. Conditions have not changed in our own time. The greatest actors of our own generation, Sir Henry Irving, Ellen Terry, Helena Modjeska, Ada Rehan, speare on Forbes Robertson, Beerbohm Tree, Julia Mar- tlie stage lowe, and Edward Sothern, have been seen at to-day. ^j^^jj. ^^^^ jj^ ^Yie comedies and tragedies of Shakespeare. Even in the twentieth century, with musi- cal comedies, vaudeville, and moving-pictures to contend with, his plays are presented in greater number than are the plays of any other man who has ever lived. Nor are they revived merely for the sake of sentiment. They draw large audiences of all sorts of people. They still pay as purely business undertakings. *' The Merchant of Venice," ^^ Julius Caesar," *^ Hamlet," ^^ Macbeth," ^^ Twelfth Night," ''As You Like It," ''A Midsummer Night's Dream," '' Romeo and Juliet," '' The Taming of the Shrew," and ''The Merry Wives of Windsor" still earn money for actors and theatre-managers as they did three centuries ago. What is far more important, they still give pleasure and amusement, they still stir laughter and tears and awaken the imagination as they did at the Globe in London in the lifetime of their creator. Shakespeare, we know, wrote his plays to be acted : to him they were distinctly stage productions to be seen and g, . heard at the theatre. So little did he think of speare's their being read that he apparently had no plays read, concern about them in their book form. To- ^\^d^^^^ day, on the contrary, though they still are presented on the stage, it is in school and college classrooms, in libraries, and in homes that they are chiefly known. New editions are constantly appear- ing. Plays and novels that were popular twenty years 1 54 Fame. ago are out of print and difficult to find ; the works of Shakespeare, in a dozen different forms, are in every book-store of England and America. Quite apart from their acting qualities, they have come to be regarded as the highest type of literature in our language. This is not the place to give an extensive criticism of Shakespeare's works, nor a full analysis of the reasons w^hy the world regards them so highly apart from "wiiyShake- their value as stage performances. It will be speare enough to remind the student that in nothing li^^s. that has ever been written do we find a clearer or more faithful portrayal of all the varying moods and emotions of human nature. The characters which Shakespeare has created hve in our minds both as individuals and as types of the ideal. He strips away the petty things from life and shows us the eternal elements underneath. He has that wonderful and rare quality called universality ; for he expresses the thoughts and feelings of us all, — the things which we know to be great and true. Somewhere in his plays everyone finds himself, and the discovery, though he may not realize it at the time, makes a lasting impression. For Shakespeare is the supreme teacher : he suggests, but does not preach, the art of living. Other men have done all this. But Shakespeare has left us his wisdom and his interpretation of life in a more beautiful and stately diction, in phrasing more apt and pleasing, in poetry of greater imaginative power, than has ever come from the mind of man. More books have been written about Shakespeare than about any other person who ever lived.^ This is not surpris- 1 For titles of those books on Shakespeare most interesting to students and teachers, see page 182. 155 Appendix. ing when we consider that the interest in his plays, which has existed now for three centuries, is world-wide, and when we remember that the language in which he wrote often needs explanation and comment to make it perfectly clear to the average reader to-day. Almost every English and American poet of note has left a tribute to the greatest of all poets. Perhaps the best known are Milton's famous Epitaph, printed on page vii of this volume, and Ben Jon- son's lines contributed to the First Folio in 1623, which are given on page 148. Here are a few other short poems, or selections from poems, which give honor and praise to those characteristics that have made Shakespeare the in- spiration and the guiding-star of poets since Elizabethan times. James Thomson For lofty sense, Creative fancy, and inspection keen Through the deep windings of the human heart. Is not wild Shakespeare thine and Nature's boast ? Summer — 1727. William Collins The temper of our isle, though cold, is clear ; And such our genius, noble though severe. Our Shakespeare scorn'd the trifling rules of art. But knew to conquer and surprise the heart ! In magic chains the captive thought to bind. And fathom all the depths of human kind ! On our Late Taste in Music — 1747. 156 Fame. Thomas Gray Far from the sun and summer gale In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face : the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smiled. " This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy ; Of horror that, and thrilling fears. Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." The Progress of Poesy — 1757. Henry Alford We stood upon the tomb of him whose praise, Time, nor oblivious thrift, nor envy chill. Nor war, nor ocean with her severing space. Shall hinder from the peopled world to fill ; And thus, in fulness of our heart, we cried : God's works are wonderful — the circling sky, The rivers that wdth noiseless footing glide, Man's firm-built strength, and woman's liquid eye ; But the high spirit that sleepeth here below, More than all beautiful and stately things, Glory to God the mighty Maker brings ; To whom alone ^twas given the bounds to know Of human action, and the secret springs Whence the deep streams of joy and sorrow flow. Sir atford'Mpon- Avon — 1837 157 Appendix. Elizabeth Barrett Browning There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world : O eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time ! A Visio n of Poets — 1 844 Leigh Hunt . . . Humanity's divinest son, That sprightliest, gravest, wisest, kindest one . . . Thoughts of the Avon — 1S44. Robert Browning — I DECLARE our Poct, him Whose insight makes all others dim : A thousand Poets pried at life. And only one amid the strife Rose to be Shakespeare. Christmas Eve and Easter Day — 1850. Hartley Coleridge Great poet, 'twas thy art To know thyself, and in thyself to be Whatever love, hate, ambition, destiny. Or the firm, fatal purpose of the heart. Can make of Man. Yet thou wert still the same. Serene of thought, unhurt by thy own flame. To Shakespeare — i^S^' 158 Fame. William Wetmore Story . . . Shakespeare, whose strong soul could climb Steeps of sheer terror, sound the ocean grand Of Passion's deeps, or over Fancy's strand Trip with his fairies, keeping step and time. His, too, the power to laugh out full and clear^ With unembittered joyance, and to move Along the silent, shadowy paths of love As tenderly as Dante, whose austere, Stern spirit through the worlds below, above, Unsmiling strode, to tell their tidings here. The Mighty Makers, II— 1851. Matthew Arnold Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality ; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure Didst tread on earth unguess'd at. — Better so ! All pains the immortal spirit must endure. All weakness which impairs, all griefs which bow, Find their sole speech in that victorious brow. Shakespeare — 1867, 159 THE THEATRE OF SHAKESPEARE'S DAY When Shakespeare left Stratford and went to London, theatres were in their infancy. The first one had been Popularity built in 1576, when he was a lad of twelve, of the first and on his arrival in the city there were but theatres. three small wooden structures devoted to the production of plays. Enthusiasm for the drama, however, was aglow. With the sanction of Queen Elizabeth, her- self a lover of pageants and revels, and under the patron- age of the powerful Earls of Leicester, Southampton, and Rutland, the popular demand for this form of amusement grew with amazing rapidity. Theatres shot up one after another until in 1633 there were at least nineteen in Lon- don, *^ a number," says Brandes, *^ which no modern town of 300,000 inhabitants can equal." Poets, courtiers, scholars, — everyone who could write, - — turned to the making of plays. The art which Shakespeare found in its crude and humble beginnings, in the short period of his active life, that is, between 1585 and 16 10, developed through every stage to its highest form, so that never in the three hun- dred years that have since elapsed has the drama of the Elizabethan days been surpassed. In this development Shakespeare was ** a pioneer — almost the creator or first designer — as well as the practised workman in unmatched perfection."^ Though the first theatre in England was not erected until Shakespeare was twelve years old, long before his time there had been many different kinds of simple plays. The instinct to act out a story had existed from the child- 1 Sidney Lee: "Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Playgoer." 160 The Theatre. hood of the race. With the earliest telling of legends and folktales by minstrels and bards there had often been occasion for dramatic recital, dialogue, and pj^yg action. For centuries, too, there had been the before solemn mysteries and quaint old moralities, t^^e^tres Mummers and bands of strolling players had wandered over Europe throughout the Middle Ages. The drama, therefore, which flowered in the last half of the sixteenth century, was not a new and sudden birth, but rather came as the natural outgrowth of centuries of crude and humble plays. In the beginning these had been closely connected with the service of the church ; in fact, they had been a means of religious instruction rather than a form of amusement. To understand this more clearly, let us compare their origin with that of the Greek drama in earlier ages still. Many, many centuries before Shakespeare was born, — five or six hundred years B.C., — the God Dionysus, or Bacchus, was worshipped in Greece at country festivals by boisterous groups of men who chanted and marched and exchanged bantering jests as they danced about the altar and acted out legends connected with the god. These actors, who represented the sat3^r followers of Di- onysus, generally were clad in goatskins, whence we have our word '* tragedy," from the Greek tragos, a rjij^^ ^^y\. goat, and tragodia, a goat-song. From these gious origin simple beginnings sprang the drama of Greece, of the Greek which produced ^schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. The religious element persisted in ancient times much longer than in England, for the plays of the Greek dramatists who correspond to Shakespeare were still a form of worship. In the center of the orchestra i6i Appendix. stood the altar of Dionysus, about which the chorus moved in solemn procession, chanting and reciting ; before the performance began there were sacrifices to the god, and the plays were given in the spring on the days of the Diony- sian festival. Greek tragedy was therefore not merely an entertainment, but a serious religious function. Begin- ning as a popular form of Nature worship, it finally be-, came a means of expression for the most serious and finest of Greek thought and wisdom. As it spread from Athens to other towns, little by little it ceased to be a religious affair, until at last, as it gradually lost its vitality and splendor, its relation to the worship of Dionysus entirely disappeared. In similar fashion, comedy (from comos, a band of revellers, and ode^ a song) developed from the ruder, more rustic elements in the worship of the same god, though here, as we might expect, the religious ele- ■ ment did not persist as long as it did in its greater and more serious cousin, tragedy. More than eighteen hundred years later, in England, we find the beginnings of the drama again closely related to Enfflish worship. At a time when few of the common drama be- people could read, the priests in the churches gins in the found no method of teaching their congre- gations the stories of the Bible so effective as the use of objects and pictures which appealed to the eye. The effectiveness of their teaching was enormously in- creased when they added movement, action, and talk to their picture lessons. Indeed, it was but a step from the impressive and beautiful service of the Mass to a dramatic presentation, in simple form, of the most solemn scenes in religious history. '' In this manner the people not only heard the story of the Adoration of the Magi and of the 162 The Theatre. Marriage in Cana, but saw the story in tableau. In course of time the persons in these tableaux spoke and moved, and then it was but a logical step to the repre- sentation dramatically, by the priests before the altar, of the striking or significant events in the life of Christ."^ Thus in the services of the church at Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter were laid the foundations of our modern drama. These earliest performances, rj^^ ^^^_ which were called Mysteries, dealt wholly with teries and Bible stories, from the Creation to the Day Miiracle of Judgment, and with the life of Christ ; but as they became more and more popular with the masses, a broader field of subjects was sought, and lives of saints were used for dramatic material in the Miracle Plays of a century later. Not only were the priests the authors of both these simple forms of drama, but with the choir boys they were also the actors. For many years these plays were given on Holy Days and Saints' Days, either at the altar in the church itself, or in the enclosure just outside its walls. Their object continued to be largely religious instruction. In the Miracle plays, however, there were opportunities for a good deal of grotesque amusement. Incidents in the lives of the saints were not always serious or spiritual. The Devil gradually became more or less of a comic character. As the performances grew less solemn and awe-inspiring, the attitude of the people toward them changed. No longer did they attend them to worship, but rather to see a show and be amused. Gradually, therefore, they became separated from the service of the church, until finally they were banished once for all from the sacred walls, and but a few years after they had been 1 W. H. Mabie : " William Shakespeare: Poet, Dramatist, and Man." 163 Appendix. given at the altar they were being denounced by the priests as base and wicked things. Indeed, the feeling that pla)^s are devices and temptations of Satan, which still exists, may be traced to the time, four centuries ago, when the drama lost favor with the Church. The Mysteries and Miracle Plays did not decline in popularity when they were abandoned by the various re- Trade- ligious orders. On the contrary, with the Guilds and greater freedom and larger opportunity which the plays. separation from the church gave them, they increased rapidly in the people's favor. They were now taken up by the trade-guilds which, by the fifteenth cen- tury, developed elaborate and systematic methods of pre- senting them. Often different groups of tradesmen, such as the weavers' guild or the goldsmiths' guild, would unite, each band or '' company " presenting an act or scene in the play to be undertaken. Huge, two-story covered wagons, somewhat like our large rrioving-vans to-day, took the place of stage and property-rooms. The actors dressed in the enclosed part of the vehicle, and then mounted a ladder or some rough stairs to the top story, or roof, where they performed their parts. Announced by heralds, — sometimes even by proclamation of the Mayor, — these pageants, as they were called, were drawn through the town on holidays and occasions of special festival. In the course of its progress the moving-stage would stop several times, — at the corners of the principal streets, in a public square, often at the doors of a church or cathe- dral. Then the crowd which had been following in its wake gathered about it to witness again the drama of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden, of Noah, the flood and the ark, of Pilate and Herod, or one of the 164 The Theatre. numberless other stories with which they had been famil- iar from childhood. Miracle Plays and Mysteries were followed by the Moralities in which abstract qualities such as Pleasure, Slander, Rage, Perseverance, and the Seven Deadly Sins took the place of characters from ^^^^ the Bible. This was a long stride forward. Now the field of subjects was greatly enlarged. Origi- nality both in writing plays and in producing them was now first in demand. Opportunity had come at last for the creation of character, and for the use of everyday life on the stage. " Everyman," which has often been acted in our time, is a good example of what the Moralities at their best could be. Like the Miracle plays they were gener- ally given by the guilds in marketplaces, enclosures of castles, and inn-yards where people could watch them from windows and balconies, as well as from the ground about the portable stage. Heavy, crude, and dull as these old plays now seem to us, they were intensely enjoyed by the populace of those far-away simpler times. From the eagerness and excitement with which they awaited their coming to town, or travelled long distances to see them, it is evident that a love of acting was inborn in the hearts of the people which sooner or later would develop a more finished and artistic drama. None of the performers in the Mysteries or Miracle Plays had been professional actors ; but now with the Moralities came the opportunity for men to Acting as a make a business of acting. As religious sub- profession; jects gradually disappeared from the pageant companies stage, actors by profession came into exist- ence. Wandering minstrels and story-tellers, mummers 165 Appendix. and strolling players, began to join together in troops for protection and companionship. '' From the days of Henry VI onwards, members of the nobility began to en- tertain these companies of actors, and Henry VII and Henry VIII had their own private comedians. A ' Mas- ter of the Revels ^ was appointed to superintend musical and dramatic entertainments at court." A little later a statute of Parliament declared that " all actors who were not attached to the service of a nobleman should be treated as rogues and vagabonds, or in other words, might be whipped out of any town in which they appeared. This decree, of course, compelled all actors to enter the service of one great man or other, and we see that the aristocracy felt bound to protect their art. A large number of the first men in the kingdom, during Elizabeth's reign, had each his company of actors. The player received from the nobleman, whose * servant ' he was, a cloak bearing the arms of the family. On the other hand, he received no salary, but was simply paid for each performance given before his patron. We must thus conceive' Shakespeare as bearing on his cloak the arms of Leicester, and after- wards of the Lord Chamberlain, until about his fortieth year. From 1604 onwards, when the company was pro- moted by James I to be His Majesty's Servants, it was the Royal arms that he wore."^ For many years these companies of professional actors had no regular buildings in which to give their perform- The first ances. Their plays were presented before theatres in their noble patrons in the great halls of their London. castles, and occasionally at court for the amusement of the king or queen. As late as Shake- 1 Georg Brandes : " William Shakespeare," page 99. 166 The Theatre. speare's boyhood they were witnessed by the common people in the yards of taverns, in the open streets, or on village greens. If the actors played in London, either in the guild-halls or out of doors, they first had to obtain a license -from the Lord Mayor for each performance, and then they were obliged to surrender half of their receipts to the city treasury. These trying conditions, with the growing popularity of the drama among all classes, finally led in 1576 to the erection of the first building for acting purposes. This was called the Theatre. The following year the Curtain was erected ; in 1587, the Rose ; in 1594, the Swan; and in 1599, ^^^ Globe. Once begun they shot up with wonderful rapidity. When Shakespeare arrived in the city there were but three playhouses ; in 161 1, when he retired to Stratford, there were probably ten or twelve. In one sense London even then did not possess a theatre, for the early playhouses were not in the city at all. They were built on a tract of open land ^^ -^^^^ across the Thames, at the further end of Lon- tion of don Bridge, outside the walls and well beyond *^® ^^st the jurisdiction of the Mayor. The capital ®^^^®s. was then a town of small dimensions, barely a mile square, with a population of nearly 200,000 crowded together in houses which were constructed largely of wood. The streets were narrow, crooked, and muddy. Adequate means of fighting fire and disease did not exist. The Corporation was therefore strongly opposed to the erection of dangerous and inflammable structures upon the few vacant spaces within the walls. Moreover, among the Puritans, who were coming to be a large and influential body, opposition to the drama was growing more marked 167 Appendix. and open ; so that the companies of actors were obhged to put up their theatres well beyond the reach of the city's laws. Let us now pay a visit to the Globe, to us the most in- teresting of all the theatres, for it is here that Shake- The Globe speare's company acts, and here many of his Theatre: P^^ys are first seen on the stage. We cross its exter- the Thames by London Bridge with its lines of na ap- crowded booths and shops and thronp:s of pearance. . ... busthng tradesmen ; or if it is fine weather we take a small boat and are rowed over the river to the southern shores. Here on the Bankside, in the part of London now called Southwark, beyond the end of the bridge, and in the open fields near the Bear Garden, stands a roundish, three-story wooden building, so high for its size that it looks more like a clumsy, squatty tower than a theatre. As we draw nearer we see that it is not exactly round after all, but is somewhat hexagonal in shape. The walls seem to slant a little inward, giving it the appearance of a huge thimble, or cocked hat, with six flattened sides instead of a circular surface. There are but few small windows and two low shabby entrances. The whole structure is so dingy and unattractive that we stand before it in wonder. Can this be the place where '^ Hamlet," ''The Merchant of Venice," and " JuHus Caesar " are put on the stage 1 Our amazement on stepping inside is even greater. The first thing that astonishes us is the blue sky over our The Globe heads. The building has no roof except a Theatre: narrow strip around the edge and a covering the in- ^t the rear over the back part of the stage. The front of the stage and the whole center of the theatre is open to the air. Now we see how the in- l68 The Theatre. terior is lighted, though with the sunshine must often come rain and sleet and London fog. Looking up and out at the clouds floating by, we notice that a flag is flying from a short pole on the roof over the stage. This is most im- portant, for it is announcing to the city across the river that this afternoon there is to be a play. It is bill-board, newspaper notice, and advertisement in one : and we may imagine the eagerness with which it is looked for among the theatre-loving populace of these later Elizabethan years. When the performance begins the flag will be lowered to proclaim to all that ^' the play is on.'' Where, now, shall we sit? Before us on the ground level is a large open space, which corresponds to the orchestra circle on the floor of a modern play- „ ,. ^ -^ Seating ar- house. But here there is only the flat bare rangements earth, trodden down hard, with rushes and in the straw scattered over it. There is not a sim *^®^t^® • the pit. of a seat! This is the ''yard," or, as it is sometimes called, " the pit," where, by paying a penny or two, London apprentices, sailors, laborers, and the mixed crowd from the streets may stand jostling together. Some of the more enterprising ones may possibly sit on boxes and stools which they bring into the building with them. Among these " groundlings " there will surely be bustling confusion, noisy wrangling, and plenty of danger from pickpockets ; so we look about us to find a more comfort- able place from w^hich to watch the performance. On three sides of us, and extending well around the stage, are three tiers of narrow balconies. In tj^Q some places these are divided into compart- balconies ments, or boxes. The prices here are higher, ^^^ boxes, varying from a few pennies to half a crown, according to 169 Appendix. the location. By putting our money into a box held out to us, — there are no tickets, — we are allowed to climb the crooked wooden stairs to one of these compartments. Here we find rough benches and chairs, and above all a little seclusion from the throng of men and boys below. Along the edge of the stage we observe that there are stools, but these places, elevated and facing the audience, seem rather conspicuous, and besides the prices are high. They will be taken by the young gallants and men of fashion of London, in brave and brilliant clothes, with light swords at their belts, wide ruffled collars about their necks, and gay plunies in their hats. It will be amusing to see them show off their fine apparel, and display their wit at the expense of the groundlings in the pit, and even of the actors themselves. We are safer, however, and much more comfortable here in the balcony among the more sober, quiet gentlemen of London, who with me- chanics, tradesmen, nobles, and shop-keepers have come to see the play. The moment we entered the theatre we were impressed by the size of the stage. Looking down upon it from the balcony, it seems even larger and very near us. If it is like the stage of the Fortune it is square, as shown in the illustration facing page i68. Here in the Globe it is probably narrower at the front than at the back, tapering from the rear wall almost to a point. Whatever its shape, it is only a roughly-built, high platform, open on three sides, and extending halfway into the ^'yard." Though a low railing runs about its edge, there are no footlights, — all performances are in the afternoon by the light of day which streams down through the open top, — and strangest of all there is no curtain. At each 170 The Theatre. side of the rear we can see a door that leads to the *' tir- ing-rooms/' where the actors dress, and from which they make their entrances. These are the "green-rooms " and wings of our theatre to-day. Between the doors is a cur- tain that now before the play begins is drawn together. Later when it is pulled aside, — not upward as cur- tains usually are now^, — we shall see a shallow recess or alcove which serves as a secondary, or inner stage. Over this extends a narrow balcony covered by a roof which is supported at the front corners by two columns that stand well out from the wall. Still higher up, over the inner stage, is a sort of tow^er, sometimes called the " hut," and from a pole on this the flag is flying which summons the London populace from across the Thames. Rushes are strewn over the floor ; there are no drops or wdngs or walls of painted scenery. In its simplicity and bareness it reminds us of the rude stage of the strolling players. Indeed, the whole interior of the building seems to be but an adaptation of the tavern-yard and village-green. How, we wonder, can a play like " Julius Caesar " or "The Merchant of yenice " be staged on such a crude affair as this ! What are the various parts of it for ? Practically all actiner is done, w^e shall ^® ° ^ ® ^ ° mam stage, see, on the front of the platform well out among the crowd in the pit, with the audience on three sides of the performers. All out-of-door scenes will be acted here, from a conversation in the streets of Venice or a dialogue in a garden, to a battle, a procession, or a banquet in the Forest of Arden. Here, too, with but the slightest alteration, or even with no change at all, interior scenes will be presented. With the " groundlings " crowded close up to its edges, and with young gallants 171 Appendix. sitting on its sides, this outer stage comes close to the people. On it will be all the main action of the drama : the various arrangements at the rear are for supplemen- tary purposes and certain important effects. The inner stage, or alcove beyond the curtain, is used in many ways. It may serve for any room somewhat removed from the scene of action, such as a "Uses of the 4. j t^. ^^ • j ^ inner stage Passage-way or a study. It often is made to represent a cave, a shop, or a prison. Here Othello, in a frenzy of jealous passion, strangles Desde- mona as she lies in bed ; here probably the ghost of Cae- sar appears to Brutus in his tent on the plains of Philippi ; here stand the three fateful caskets in the mansion at Bel- mont, as we see by Portia's words, " Go, draw aside the curtains^ and discover The several caskets to this noble Prince." Tableaux and scenes within scenes, such as the short play in '' Hamlet " by which the prince " catches the con- science of the king," are acted in this recess. But the most important use is to give the effect of a change of scene. By drawing apart and closing the curtain, with a few simple changes of properties in this inner compart- ment, a different background is possible. By such a slight variation of setting at the rear, the platform in the pit is transformed, by the quick imagination of the spectators, from a field or a street to a castle hall or a wood. Thus, the whole stage becomes the Forest of Arden by the use of a little greenery in the distance. Similarly, a few trees and shrubs at the rear of the inner stage, when the curtain is thrown aside, will change the setting from the court-room in the fourth act of '' The Merchant of Venice," to the 172 The Theatre. scene in the garden at Belmont which immediately follows. The balcony over the inner stage serves an important purpose, too. With the windows, which are often just over the doors leading to the tiring-rooms, it . US6S of tll6 gives the eiiect of an upper story m a house, balcony of walls in a castle, a tower, or any elevated over the position. This is the place, of course, where stage. Juliet comes to greet Romeo who is in the garden below. In " Julius Caesar " when Cassius says, *^ Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill; And tell me what thou notest about the field," the soldier undoubtedly climbs to the balcony, for a mo- ment later, looking abroad over the field of battle, he re- ports to Cassius what he sees from his elevation. Here Jessica appears when Lorenzo calls under Shylock's win- dows, " Ho ! who's within ? " and on this balcony she is standing when she throws down to her lover a box of her father's jewels. '' Here, catch this casket ; it is worth the pains," she says, and retires into the house, appearing below a moment later to run away with Lorenzo and his masquerading companions. Besides these simple devices, if we look closely enough we shall see a trap-door, or perhaps two, in the platform. These are for the entrance of apparitions and demons. They correspond, in a way, to the balcony by giving the effect of a place lower than the stage ^^^^^33 level. Thus in the first scene of " The Tem- pest," which takes place in a storm at sea, the notion of a ship may be suggested to the audience by sailors Appendix. entering from the trap-door, as they might come up a hatchway to a deck. If it is a play with gods and goddesses and spirits, we may be startled to see them appear and disappear through the air. Evidently there is machinery of some sort in the hut over the balcony which can be used for lowering and raising deities and creatures that live above the earth. On each side of the stage is a flight of steps leading to the balcony. These are often covered, as plainly shown by Mr. Godfrey's reconstruc- tion of the Fortune Theatre facing page i68. Here sit councils, senates, and princes with their courts. Macbeth uses them to give the impression of ascending to an upper chamber when he goes to kill the king, and down them he rushes to his wife after he has committed the fearful murder. What astonishes us most, however, is the absence of scenery. To be sure, some slight attempt has been made to create scenic illusion. There are, perhaps, the staffe ^ ^^^ trees and boulders, a table, a chair or two, and pasteboard dishes of food. But there is little more. In the only drawing of the interior of an Elizabethan theatre that has been preserved, — a sketch of the Swan made in 1596, — the stage has absolutely no furniture except one plain bench on which one of the actors is sitting. Here before us in the Globe the walls may be covered with loose tapestries, black if the play is to be a tragedy, blue if a comedy ; but it is quite possible that they are entirely bare. A placard on one of the pillars announces that the stage is now a street in Venice, now a courtroom, now the hall of a stately mansion. It may be that the Prologue, or even the actors themselves, will tell us at the opening of an act just where the scene is laid and what we are to imagine the platform to represent. 174 The Theatre. In '' Henry V,*' for instance, the Prologue at the begin- ning not only explains the setting of the play, but asks forgiveness of the audience for attempting to put on the stage armies and battles and the '' vasty fields of France.'' " But pardon, gentles all, The flat unraised spirit that hath dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object. Can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt ? O, pardon ! since a crooked figure may Attest in little place a million ; And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work. Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confined two mighty monarchies, Whose high-upreared and abutting fronts The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder. Piece out our imperfections w^ith your thoughts ; Into a thousand parts divide one man, And make imaginary puissance. Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth, For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times. Turning the accompHshment of many years Into an hour-glass." In '* As You Like It " it is an actor who tells us at the opening of the second act that we are now to imagine the Forest of Arden before us. In the first sentence which 175 Appendix. the banished Duke speaks, he says, ^^ Are not these woods more free from peril than the envious court ? " and a mo- ment later, when Touchstone and the runaway maidens first enter the woods, Rosalind exclaims, ^' Well, this is the Forest of Arden ! " A hint, a reference, a few simple contrivances, a placard or two, — these are enough. ^' Imaginary forces " are here in the audience keenly alive, and they will do the rest. By means of them, without the illusion of scenery, the bare wooden stage will become a ship, a garden, a palace, a London tavern. Whole armies will enter and retire by a single door. Battles will rage, royal processions pass in and out, graves will be dug, lovers will woo, — and all with hardly an important alter- ation of the setting. Lack of scenery does not limit the type of scenes that can be presented. On the contrary, it gives almost unlimited opportunities to the dramatist, for the spectators, in the force and freshness of their im- agination, are children who willingly " play " that the stage is anything the author suggests. Their youthful enthusi- asm, their simple tastes, above all their lack of knowledge of anything different, give them the enviable power of imag- ining the grandest, most beautiful, and most varied scenes on the same bare, unadorned boards. Apparently they are well satisfied with their stage ; for it is not until nearly fifty years after Shakespeare's death that movable scenery is used in an English theatre. It is now three o'clock and time for the performance to begin. Among the motley crowd of men and boys in the The per- yard there is no longer room for another box formanceof or stool. They are evidently growing im- a play. patient and jostle together in noisy confusion. Suddenly three long blasts on a trumpet sound. The 176 The Theatre. mutterings in the pit subside, and all eyes turn toward the stage. First an actor, clothed in a black mantle and wearing a laurel wreath on his head, comes from behind the curtain and recites the prologue. From it we learn something of the story of the play to follow, and possibly a little about the scene of action. This is all very wel- come, for we have no programs and the plot of the drama is unfamiliar. In a minute or two the Prologue retires and the actors of the first scene enter. We are soon im- pressed by the rapidity with which the play moves on. There is little stage " business " ; though there may be some music between the acts, still there are no long waits ; one scene follows another as quickly as the actors can make their exits and entrances. The whole play, there- fore, does not last much over two hours. At the close there is an epilogue, spoken by one of the actors, after which the players kneel and join in a prayer for the queen. Then comes a final bit of amusement for the groundlings : the clown, or some other comic character of the company, sings a popular song, dances a brisk and boisterous jig, and the performance of the day is done. During our novel experience this afternoon at the Globe, nothing has probably surprised us more than the elaborate and gorgeous costumes of the actors, costumes At a time when so little attention is paid to of the scenery we naturally expect to find the dress ^^tors. of the players equally simple and plain. But we are mistaken. The costumes, to be sure, make little or no pretension to fit the period or place of action. Caesar appears in clothes such as are worn by a duke or an earl in 1601. "They are the ordinary dresses of various classes of the day, but they are often of rich material, and 177 Appendix. in the height of current fashion. False hair and beards, crowns and sceptres, mitres and croziers, armour, hel- mets, shields, vizors, and weapons of war, hoods, bands, and cassocks, are relied on to indicate among the charac- ters differences of rank or profession. The foreign ob- server, Thomas Platter of Basle, was impressed by the splendor of the actors' costumes. ' The players wear the most costly and beautiful dresses, for it is the custom in England, that when noblemen or knights die, they leave their finest clothes to their servants, who, since it would not be fitting for them to wear such splendid garments, sell them soon afterwards to the players for a small sum.' " ^ But no money is spared to secure the fitting gar- ment for an important part. Indeed, it is quite probable that more is paid for a king's velvet robe or a prince's silken doublet than is given to the author for the play itself. Whether the elaborate costumes are appropriate or not, their general effect is pleasing, for they give variety and brilliant color to the bare and unattractive stage. If we are happily surprised by the costuming of the play, what shall we say of the actors who take the female Female parts ! They are very evidently not women, or parts taken even girls, but boys whose voices have not by boys. changed, dressed, tricked out, and trained to appear as feminine as possible. It is considered un- seemly for a woman to appear on a public stage, — in- deed, the professional actress does not exist and will not be seen in an English theatre for nearly a century. Meanwhile plays are written with few female parts (re- member *^ The Merchant of Venice," " Julius Caesar," and " Macbeth ") and young boys are trained to take these 1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Modern Stage," page 41. 178 The Theatre. roles. The theatregoers seem to enjoy the performance just as much as we do to-day with mature and accom- pHshed actresses on the stage. Shakespeare and his fellow dramatists treated the situation with good grace or indifference. Thus in the epilogue of '^ As You Like It " Rosalind says to the audience, " If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me." The jest, of course, consists in the fact that she is not a woman at all, but a stripling. In a more tragic vein Cleopatra, before she dies, complains that " the quick comedians . . . will stage us, . . . and I shall see some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness." It may be that the boys who take the women's parts this afternoon wear masks to make them seem less masculine, though how that can improve the situation it is difficult to understand. There is an amus- ing reference to this practice in '^ A Midsummer Night's Dream." When Flute, the bellows-mender, is assigned a part in the drama which the mechanics of Athens are rehearsing, he exclaims, "Nay, faith, let me not play a woman ; I have a beard coming " ; to which protest Quince replies, " That's all one : you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will." Though rapid action, brilliant costumes, and, above all, the force and beauty of the lines, may lead us to forget that the heroine is only a boy, it is more diffi- _, cult to keep our attention from being distracted audience by the audience around us. It surprises us at the that there are so few women present. We ^^°^®- notice, too, that many of those who have come wear a mask of silk or velvet over their faces. Evidently it is hardly the proper thing for a respectable woman to be seen in a public theatre. The people in the balconies are 179 Appendix. fairly orderly, but below in the pit the crowd is restless, noisy, and at times even boisterous. Bricklayers, dock- laborers, apprentices, serving-men, and idlers stand in jostUng confusion. There are no police and no laws that are enforced. Pickpockets ply an active trade. One, we see, has been caught and is bound to the railing at the edge of the stage where he is an object of coarse jests and ridicule. Refreshment-sellers push about in the throng with apples and sausages, nuts and ale. There is much eating and drinking and plenty of smoking. On the stage the gallants are a constant source of bother to the players. They interrupt the Prologue, criticise the dress of the hero, banter the heroine, and joke with the clown. Even here in the gallery we can hear their comments — far from flattering — upon a scene that does not please them; when a little later they applaud, their praises are just as vigorous. Once it seems as though the play is going to be brought to a standstill by a wrangling quarrel between one of these rakish gentlemen and a group of groundlings near the stage. Their attention, however, is taken by the entrance of the leading actor declaiming a stirring passage, and their differences are soon forgotten. It is, on the whole, a good-natured rough crowd of the common people, the lower and middle classes from the great city across the river, — more like the crowd one sees to-day at a circus or a professional ball-game than at a theatre of the highest type. They loudly cheer the clown's final song and dance, and then with laughter, shouting, and jesting they pour out of the yard and in a moment the building is empty. The play is over until to-morrow afternoon. What a contrast it all has been to a play in a theatre of 1 80 The Theatre. the twentieth century ! When we think of the uncomfort- able benches, the flat bare earth of the pit, the lack of scenery, footlights, and drop curtains ; when w^e hear the shrill voices of boys piping the women's parts, and see mist and rain falling on spectator's heads, we are in- clined to pity the playgoer of Elizabethan conclusions times. Yet he needs no pity. To him the to be theatre of his day w^as sufficient. The drama drawn, enacted there was a source of intense and genuine pleas- ure. His keen enthusiasm; his fresh, youthful eagerness; above all, his highly imaginative power, — far greater than ours to-day, — gave him an ability to understand and enjoy the poetry and dramatic force of Shakespeare's works, which we, wdth all the improvements of our palatial theatres, cannot equal. Crude, simple, coarse as they now seem to us, we can look back only with admiration upon the Swan and the Curtain and the Globe ; for in them ''The Merchant of Venice," "As You Like It," "Julius Caesar," "Hamlet," and "Macbeth" were re- ceived with acclamations of joy and wonder. In them the genius of Shakespeare was recognized and given a place in the drama of England which now, after three cen- turies have passed, it holds in the theatres and in the literature of all the world. i8i BOOKS OF INTEREST TO STUDENTS OF SHAKESPEARE [A bibliography of works on Shakespeare would make a volume of considerable size. Here are a few of the most useful books for students and teachers.] William Shakespeare : A Critical Study. George Brandes. The Macmillan Co. A Life of William Shakespeare. Sidney Lee. The Macmillan Co. The Facts about Shakespeare. • Neilson and Thorndike. The Macmillan Co. William Shakespeare : Foet, Dramatist, and Man. H. W. Mabie. The Macmillan Co. Shakespeare and the Modern Stage. Sidney Lee. Charles Scribner's Sons. Introduction to Shakespeare. Edward Dowden. Charles Scribner's Sons. Shakespeare. Walter Raleigh. The Macmillan Co. William Shakespeare, John Masefield. Henry Holt & Co. Shakespeare : The Boy. W. J. RoLFE. Harper Bros. Handbook to the Works of Shakespeare. Morton Luce. George Bell & Sons. 182 Books of Interest. Shakespeare : his Life, Art, and Characters. Rev. H. N. Hudson. Ginn & Co. Shakespeare'' s England. William Winter. Moffat, Yard & Co. Shakespeare Manual. F. G. Fleay. The Macmillan Co. An interesting story of Shakespeare's times is Master Skylark, by John Bennett, published by The Century Company. Scott's Kenilworth is a story of London and Warwick- shire in 1575, and The Fortunes of Nigel gives a good picture of London in 1604, the year of "Othello." 183 EXPLANATORY NOTES Dramatis PERSONiE = persons of the dra7na ; the cast. In the folio of 1623, which was the eadiest edition of *' Julius Caesar," there is no list of dramatis personce^ and the acts are not divided into scenes. These additions, with many of the stage directions, are the work of later editors. triumvirs. Three men united in public office or authority. In Roman history the alliance of Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus in 60 B.C. is known as the First Triumvirate. A similar alliance in 43 B.C. of Octavius Caesar, Antonius, and Lepidus is called the Second Triumvirate, and each member a triumvir. ACT I The subject of the play, it must be understood from the be- ginning, is Marcus Brutus. The idea of a conspiracy against Caesar's life is shown in the first act as originating in the mind of Cassius on grounds of per- sonal enmity, and as finding acceptance in the mind of Brutus on grounds of concern for the public welfare. The deliberate, conscientious meditation of Brutus on the awful step he con- templates as the means of freeing Rome from tyranny, is con- trasted with the ardor and the trickery with which Cassius and Casca apply themselves to the furtherance of the plot, and chiefly to the securing of Brutus as its leader. The sum and substance of the act is expressed in the last eight lines of the last scene. Casca. O, he {i.e. Brutus) sits high in all the people's hearts : And that which would appear offence in us His countenance, like richest alchemy. Will change to virtue and to worthiness. 185 Notes. Act I, Scene 1. Cas. Him and his worth and our great need of him You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight ; and ere day We will awake him and be sure of him. (I, 3, 157-164.) Scene 1 All the actors in this scene disappear from the play with the end of the scene itself. Tribunes and commoners, they are not personcB of the drama at all, but speak their brief parts as types of the social divisions and the political animosities of the Rome of Caesar's time. What the historian would require pages to tell and explain the poet in a few lines reveals to us as a picture. The commoners are nameless, as they are in the records of history, and have to be distinguished by being numbered ; they are witty, good-natured, coarse of speech, incapable of high political prin- ciple. But they represent the physical strength of Rome because they are a multitude and will follow devotedly a leader who wins them to his side. Whoever aspires to control Rome must be popular with the commons, and the commons have been won by Caesar. The tribunes stand by the lost cause of Pompey. The tribunes represent patrician conservatism ; they are imperious and full of dignity ; their speech is warmed with noble sentiment ; they typify Roman patriotism. Rome. A Street. The scene opens on the feast of the Luper- calia, February 15, in the year 44 B.C. The period of action extends to the battle of Philippi, in the autumn of 42 B.C. Commoners : common people, tradesmen. Line 3. being mechanical: being mechanics, workmen. 4, 5. the sign of your profession : the regular clothes and badges of your trades. Shakespeare transfers to Rome the cus- toms of the English guilds, or bands of tradesmen, of his day. 5. what trade art thou ? " Of" is omitted, as again in line 9, and as was ^' to " in line 3. 186 Act I, Scene 1. NotCS. 1-5. Flavius and Marullus would seem In this passage, lines 1-5, to be enforcing a Roman law ; but the existence of such a law is an invention of the poet, who perhaps transfers to Rome a usage of his own country. It must be remembered that Shakespeare got his knowledge of history from very limited reading, and had no conception of nice scholarly scruples about mingling features of ancient and modern times. It may be said, generally, that the plays give evidence of wide observation, but not of exact learning. 9. in respect of: in comparison with. 10. a cobbler : a clumsy workman ; a " botcher.'' The word in Shakespeare's time did not necessarily refer to a mender of shoes. Marullus therefore repeats his question. 11. directly : without evasion, in a straightforward manner. 13. a mender of bad soles. The Second Commoner is a witty fellow, who evidently delights in plaguing Marullus with his puns. Already he has played upon the double meaning of cobbler ; here he does the same with soles (souls), and a moment later he is at it again. Punning was evidently considered a high form of wit in 1600; indeed from its frequent occurrence in Shakespeare's plays and those of his fellow dramatists, it seems to have been a genuine source of amusement to the Elizabethan audience. 14. knave : rascal, rogue. 16. be not out with me : be not at odds or angry with me. Playing upon the word, in the next line the cobbler uses " out " in the sense of '^ out at the toes." 23. awl. The small, slender tool used by cobblers for making holes in leather. Here, and again in " recover " two Hnes below, the commoner is teasing Marullus with word quibbles. 26. proper : handsome, goodly. In " The Merchant of Ven- ice " Portia says of Falconbridge, "He is "Bl proper man's picture." neat's-leather: ox-hide, cow-hide. 32. in his triumph. This was Caesar's fifth and last triumph, given him in honor of his victory over the sons of Pompey at the 187 Notes. Act I, Scene 1. battle of Munda in Spain. A Roman " triumph " was a celebra- tion, with processions and religious ceremonies, given to a re- turning victor. 34. tributaries: persons who pay tribute, dependents. One of the features of a Roman general's " triumph " was the proces- sion of captives, bound to his chariot and dragged through the streets of the capital. 38. Pompey. Three years earlier than this, Caesar had over- thrown Pompey at the battle of Pharsalia. 43. pass the streets. Notice throughout the play the frequent omission of prepositions. (See Hues 3 and 5 above.) 46. That: so that, — an ellipsis common in Shakespeare. 47. To hear the replication : at hearing the echo. 48. her concave shores : her hollowed, rounded banks. The Romans personified rivers as masculine : the Tiber to them was " Father Tiber '' ; but writers of Shakespeare's time more fre- quently thought of rivers as feminine. So in the next scene we find, " The troubled Tiber, chafing with her shores." The poet uses the neuter possessive " its " only ten times in all his works, and it does not occur once in the King James Bible, translated in 161 1. 50. cull out: pick out. "Is this the time to choose for a holiday?" 52. Pompey's blood : Pompey's sons, whom Caesar had defeated in the battle of Munda. One of them, Cnaeus, had been slain. 55. intermit the plague : avert or moderate the pestilence. The fearful plagues which swept over Europe in the Middle Ages, and which lasted well through the seventeenth century, were often regarded as a form, of divine punishment for human sins. 56. needs : of necessity. In *' The Merchant " Lorenzo says, " I must needs tell thee all." 60, till the lowest stream, etc. : " till your tears swell the river from the extreme low-water mark to the extreme high-water mark" (Hudson). This sort of exaggeration, or hyperbole, is not uncommon in the plays. 188 Act' I, Scene 1. NoteS. 62. metal: spirit, — a favorite word with Shakespeare in this sense. 65. the images. That is, Cassar^s statues and busts, which were adorned with "ceremonies," or scarfs and decorations. 68. Lupercal. The Lupercalia was a festival celebrated in Rome on February 15, in honor of Lupercus, a god closely iden- tified with the Greek Pan. From another name of Lupercus, Februus^ comes our word February. 71. the vulgar : the common people, — the original meaning of the word. (Lat. vulgus. common people.) 74. pitch : height. The figure in these lines is taken from the sport of hawking, or falconry. Removing the scarfs from Caesar's images is thus compared to plucking feathers from the wings of a falcon to prevent its flying too far and too high. (Compare our words high-flyer and high-flown.^ 76. servile fearfulness : slavish terror. Exeunt : they go out, — the plural of exit. QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 1. What is the purpose, in your judgment, of the conflict be- tween the tribunes and the mob at the opening of the play? 2. How does this opening foreshadow events that are to follow ? 3. What is there humorous in this scene? 4. Are your sympathies with the tribunes or with the com- moners ? Why? 5. Why does the poet have the tribunes speak in verse, the commoners in prose? 6. What ideals of Roman citizenship are represented by the tribunes in their tirade against the mob ? 7. Why do you think Shakespeare does not attempt to dis- tinguish the characters of Marullus and Flavius ? 8. What is there eloquent and poetic in the speech of Marul- lus beginning, "Wherefore rejoice"? Which lines of this speech do you like best ? 189 Notes. Act I, Scene 2. 9. If you were to stage this scene to-day how would you arrange the setting? What action and by-play would you have before Flavins first speaks? During the long speeches of the tribunes ? 10. Why not omit this scene altogether? What would be lost? Do you think it is used in modern presentations of Julius Caesar? ACT I Scene 2 With the second scene all the great characters are introduced. First is Marcus Brutus^ the hero of the tragedy. Although the play bears the name of Julius Caesar, Brutus is the veritable hero of it, for it is his fate that furnishes the motive for the entire piece, his is the only figure that moves to its tragic exit in unbroken dignity and majesty. With not a single touch does the poet derogate from the impression of moral greatness which he means we shall form of his Brutus. In his conception of Brutus' character he follows Plutarch, but goes further than his authority, as was dramatically right, and as he has done with the other chief persons of the drama, notably wath Caesar. The main motive of the tragedy, — the essentially tragical point of it, — is the mistake of Brutus in undertaking a task for which his moral nature renders him unfit. The assassination of Caesar is, in the play, incidental to the development of the career of Brutus. Brutus commands deference from all; and Cassius, who is Brutus's superior in practical sagacity, cheerfully yields to him in matters of crucial moment, being overawed by his commanding force of character. This force of personal character, joined with a reputation for absolute in- tegrity of purpose, makes Brutus the natural leader of the men of his own rank with whom he is brought into contact. He stands well with the mob also, but does not make sufficient allowance for its fickleness, and foolishly imputes to it some- thing of his own constancy and sense of honor. 190 Act I, Scene 2. NoteS. As Shakespeare is not writing history or chronicle, but drama, — though indeed he is dramatizing a chapter of history, — he is no more bound to observe the exact proportions of character as these may be deduced from the records, than he is to respect the unities of time and place. For his present purpose he wished to enlarge and idealize Brutus, and to obscure and vulgarize Caesar. For this procedure with regard to Caesar he found a shadow of warrant in his historian. Plutarch is a gossip, by no means always careful to tell of his heroes only the grand achievements by which they won renown. Caesar appears in his pages quite subject to the infirmities of human nature. The poet finds this aspect of the great dictator suitable to his purpose, exaggerates it in accordance with dramatic custom, — and so gives us his Julius Caesar. Antony, /^r the course. That is, ready to run the course: undressed. Soothsayer. One who claims to have supernatural fore- sight ; a prophet or diviner. Literally, one who " says sooth," i.e. "tells the truth." 3. in Antonius' way. It was the custom at the Lupercalia for the priests to run through the streets of Rome, waving leather thongs and striking any whom they passed. Marcus Antonius at this time was at the head of one of the bands of Luperci. 8. The barren. Caesar at this time had no children. His only daughter, Julia, who was the wife of Pompey, had died a few years before. 9. sterile curse : the curse of childlessness. 11. Set on : move on, start. 18. ides of March : March 15th. 24. pass : let us pass on. Sennet. A peculiar set of notes on the trumpet which Shakespeare frequently uses as a signal for a march, or to accompany a royal procession. 25. the order of the course. That is, the running of the priests in the streets. • 191 Notes. Act I, Scene 2. 28. gamesome: fond of games. 29. quickspirit : lively, gay spirit (Compare " quick " here with quick^AvQX^ and with the word in the expression, *^ the quick and the dead.'') 32. I do observe, etc. " I have been noticing you lately, Bru- tus, and," etc. 34. show: evidence. as: which, or "such as." wont: accustomed. 35. You bear too stubborn, etc. " You treat your friend too harshly and unfamiliarly." The picture is of a man driving a horse with too tight and too harsh a rein. " This man, Caius Cassius Longinus, had married Junia, a sis- ter of Brutus. Both had lately stood for the chief Praetorship of the city, and Brutus, through Caesar's favor, had won it. . . . This is said to have produced a coldness between Brutus and Cassius, so that they did not speak to each other, till this extraor- dinary flight of patriotism brought them together." (Hudson.) 39. Merely : wholly, altogether. 40. passions of some difference : fluctuating, contradictory feelings ; a " discord of emotions." 41. only proper to myself: belonging exclusively to me; pe- culiar to me alone. 42. give some soil . . . to : soil, tarnish, blemish. be- haviors : manners, actions. Such plurals of abstract nouns- are not uncommon in Shakespeare. Here it has the eff'ect of repe- tition, or "behavior on several occasions." (Cf. line 133 below.) 45. c6nstrue : explain, interpret. This word is always accented on the first syllable in Shakespeare's plays. Notice also " mis- construed" in "The Merchant of Venice" H, 11, 178: "I be misconstrued in the place I go to." 48. mistook your passion : misunderstood your feelings. Similarly Shakespeare has " spoke " for " spoken," " wrote " for " written," etc. (Cf. H, i, 125.) 49. By means whereof : because of which. 50. cogitations : thoughts. 192 Act I, Scene 2. NoteS. 53. But by reflection, etc. That is, the eye can see itself only by reflection in a mirror or some other polished surface. 54. *Tis just: that is true; '^ that's so." 58. shadow : reflected image, reflection. 59. Where. Used loosely for "when" or "that," — much as we sometimes say, " I read in the paper where the governor," etc. many of the best respect : many of the most highly respected men in Rome. 66. Therefore. Ignoring Brutus's question, Cassius refers here to the wish which he has heard expressed, and which he is going to answer by what follows. 69.* Will modestly discover: will disclose to you without exag- geration that side of yourself, etc. 71. jealous on me: doubtful, suspicious of me. In line 162 Brutus says : "That you do love me I am nothing Jealous.'''' 72. laugher : buffoon, jester. In the Folio editions of the play the word here is " laughter," which would mean " object of laughter or scorn." The change to "laugher," which was made by Pope in the i8th century, has generally been accepted. Do you feel, however, that perhaps the change was not necessary after all? 72, 73. did use to stale, etc. " were I accustomed to cheapen my love with too frequent oaths." 74. every new protester : every new claimant for my friendship. 75, 76. fawn on men, etc. " If you know that I am one who flatters men, holds them close to my heart, and afterwards de- fames them." Shakespeare often uses a noun as a verb in a strikingly forceful way, as " scandal " in this passage. 77. I profess myself, etc. " If I declare myself, when at ban- quets, a friend to all the company, then you should regard me as a dangerous flatterer." "Rout" of course is used contemptu- ously, as we might speak of " the mob," " the crowd," " the com- mon herd." Flourish. This was probably a few notes on a trumpet. (See opening stage directions of this scene, and com- pare " Sennet " in line 24.) 193 Notes. Act I, Scene 2. 80. How should this line be read to show Cassius' meaning? 85. the general good : the good of the community, the com- mon weal. 86. Set honor, etc. " 1 will look upon honor and death to- gether without emotion." 88. speed : prosper, bless. 91. your outward favor: your face, personal appearance. In this sense we still use " ill-favored," and in some parts of Amer- ica we have now and then such an expression as '' sho^ favors her mother," meaning " she looks like her mother." 95. lief.' To bring out clearly the play on " live," which Shakespeare undoubtedly intended, we should pronounce this word "lieve." 101. chafing with : rubbing against. (Any large dictionary will explain the interesting connection between this word and ^^ chauffeur " and " chafing-dish.") 104. And swim to yonder point. This incident, apparently invented by Shakespeare, may have been suggested to him by Plutarch's statement that Caesar was a great swimmer. 105. Accoutred : dressed, clothed. 108. With lusty sinews : with vigorous muscles. 109. stemming it : making headway against it. hearts of controversy : contending hearts, courage that contended against the torrent. Similar constructions are common in Shakespeare, as " passions of difference " in line 40 above, " thieves of mercy " for " merciful thieves," " mind of love " for " loving mind." 110. arrive the point. Point out other places where you have already noticed similar omissions of prepositions. 112. -ffineas. According to the legend, the Trojan hero i^neas was the son of Anchises and Venus. The story of his wanderings, after the Greeks had sacked Troy, and his founding of Rome, is told in VergiPs great epic poem, the "^neid." 119. He had a fever. This incident again was probably sug- gested by Plutarch's fife of Caesar : "- ... the falling sickness 194 Act I, Scene 2. NoteS. (the which took him the first time, as ft is reported, in Cordoba, a city of Spain)/' 122. His coward lips, etc. That is, '' the color fled from his lips." The picture is evidently of cowardly soldiers fleeing from their colors, or their flag. 123. whose bend: whose inclination, frown. 124. his lustre : its brightness. (See note on '^ her shores," I, I, 50.) 126. Mark: notice. 129. temper: nature, constitution, temperament. In "The Merchant " Portia says that " a hot teinper leaps o'er a cold decree." 130, 131. So get the start, etc. The figure is from the run- ning of a foot-race. 133. these applauses. Remember the plural " behaviors " in line 42 above. 136. Colossus. A gigantic bronze statue of Apollo erected in 280 B.C. on the shore of the harbor at Rhodes, and known as one of the " seven wonders of the world." Cassius here uses the word " bestride " because of the tradition that the statue stood astride the mouth of the harbor, so that ships sailed " under his huge legs." Why does he speak of the world as narrow? 140. our stars. That is, the planets that govern our lives. The plays of Shakespeare abound with references to the belief of his time that men's fortunes were controlled by the stars and planets. (Look up " astrology.") 141. underlings : inferiors, servile persons. Note the force of the ending -ling in these words : " hireling," " groundling," " changeling," " starling." 146. conjure with 'em, etc. That is, use them as means of summoning up, or "starting," spirits. 150. Age : the times, " the age in which we live-" 152. the great flood. Not the flood of Noah and the Ark, but the great flood of Greek mythology from which Deucalion and Pyrrha were the sole survivors. 195 Notes Act I, Scene 2. 156. Rome indeed and room enough. We can understand Cassius' play upon words here when^'we remember that " Rome," in Shakespeare's time, was pronounced ahuost exactly like " room.*" 159. a Brutus. This was Lucius Junius Brutus who drove the tyrant Tarquin from Rome, and led in reestablishing the republic. Our Marcus Brutus of the play, according to Plutarch, was descended from him. would have brooked, etc. : would have tolerated the Devil to rule in Rome as soon as a king. Shake- speare uses "eternal" several times for "infernal." "Perhaps," says Hudson, " our Yankee phrases, ' tarnal shame,' ^ tarnal scamp,' etc., are relics of this usage. It seems that the Puritans thought infernal too profane for godly mouths, and so translated its sense to eternal.'''' 162. am nothing jealous : do not doubt. Remember Cassius' "be not jealous on me " in line 71 above. 163. aim: guess, conjecture. 166. so : if, provided that, — as often in Shakespeare. 170. such high things : such important matters. 171. chew. This is a translation of the Latin " ruminate," which we still use in the sense of " reflect," " ponder." 172. a villager. To be a countryman, — a rustic, — from the point of view of a Roman citizen, was to be an outcast and a boor. 173. Than to repute : than consider myself. To-day we do not use "to" after the idiom " had rather." 174. as : which, such as. (A similar use of " as " occurred in line 34 of thig scene.) 177. but: even. The figure here is from the starting of fire by the use of steel and flint. Later in the play Brutus describes his own cold nature thus : O Cassius, you ?,re yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire^ Who, much enforced, shows a hasty sparky And straight is cold again. 196 Act I, Scene 2. NotCS. 181. What hath proceeded, etc. '^ What has happened worthy of notice to-day." Noteworthy has become a common adjective to-day. 184. chidden: rebuked, censured, scolded. 186. ferret . . . eyes. The ferret has small reddish eyes. 187. seen him. That is, seen him look with. 188. crossed in conference : opposed in debate. 193. Sleek-headed men. According to Plutarch, Caesar once said to friends who " complained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that they pretended some mischief towards him, ^As for those fat men and smooth-combed heads, I never reckon of them ; but these pale-visaged and carrion lean people, I fear them most,' meaning Brutus and Cassius." 193. 0' nights : at night. 194. Yond. An old form of ^' yon.'' (Cf. "yonder.") 197. well given: well disposed. This expression, like many others in the play, occurs in North's " Plutarch," from which Shakespeare drew the material for his tragedy. 199. if my name were liable to fear : that is, "If it were pos- sible for me to be afraid." Caesar uses " my name " for " myself." 204. he hears no music. Such a man Shakespeare evidently considered dangerous. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus : Let no such man be trusted. {" Merchant of Venice," V, i, 83-88.) 205. sort : way, manner. 209. Whiles. An old form of " while," closely related to our " whilst." 217. sad. Probably here in the earlier sense of "grave," "serious." 228. marry. An exclamation about equivalent to our " in- 197 Notes. Act I, Scene 2. deed." Originally, as the word shows, it was an oath, being a shortened form for " by the Virgin Mary,'''' 229. gentler than other : more gently than the other. 237. coronets. These were inferior to crowns, and in various forms denoted different degrees of noble rank less than sover- eign. Here again the poet transfers to Rome an English custom. 239. fain : gladly, willingly. , 243. rabblement : rabble, noisy crowd, mob. 244. chopt : chapped, rough and cracked. Macbeth speaks of the choppy finger of a witch. 247. s wounded ... 250. s wound. Shakespeare uses these forms as well as the modern swoon and swooned, 250. soft : hold ! stop ! not so fast ! 253. 'Tis very like : quite likely, it^s very probable. the falling-sickness. That is, epilepsy, — a nervous disease accom- panied, in its violent forms, with loss of consciousness, foaming at the mouth, and convulsions. Suetonius, in his life of Caesar, says that the great Roman general was subject to fainting fits and that "he was twice seized with the falling-sickness while engaged in active service." 257. tag-rag: ragged and idle. (Cf. the expression "the rag, tag, and bobtail.") 260. no true man : no honest man. 264. plucked me ope his doublet : he opened his coat. The "me" in this construction is called the ethical dative (for me). It has no particular meaning here, though it may possibly add a little force to Casca's words. The doublet (which did not come into use until the close of the 15 th century) was a close-fitting outer garment with sleeves, and was belted at the waist. The expression " doublet and hose" occurs frequently in the plays. 265. An: if, ^ — as often in Shakespeare. a man of any occu- pation. That is, " had I been a mechanic like those to whom he offered his throat." 266. at a word. We should say " at his word." T98 Act I, Scene 2. Notes. 270. wenches : girls, — the sisters or daughters of the " com- moners." As used here, and often in Shakespeare, the word corresponds almost exactly to the masculine " fellow." 274. sad. See note on "sad" in line 217 above. 277. he spoke Greek. How does Casca speak these words ? What light do they throw on Cicero's character ? 282. it was Greek to me: it was meaningless to me. The proverb here includes, of course, a play upon Casca's earlier remark, "Ay, he spoke Greek." 287. I am promised forth : I have promised already to dine out. In "The Merchant of Venice" Shylock says, "I am bid forth to supper," and " I have no mind of feasting forth." 293. blunt: dull, slow, — just the opposite of "quick mettle" in the next line, which means " of high or lively spirit." 297. this tardy form : this sluggish, slothful manner, — prob- ably of talking, in reference to Casca's beating about the bush and hesitation in his story of Caesar and the crown. 305. think of the world. That is, "think of the affairs of Rome." What is the significance of this remark as a farewell to Brutus ? 307. metal : spirit, character. Point out two similar uses of the word earlier in the play. 307, 308. may be wrought From, 'etc. : may be moved, or changed, from that to which it is inclined. meet : fitting, suitable. 311. bear me hard. That is, " Caesar regards me with ill-will, or disfavor." 313. He should not humor me. " He (that is, Brutus) should not cajole me (play upon my humor) as I do him." (Warbur- ton.) Cassius seems to think that he would not be as easy to work upon as he is finding Brutus. 314. hands: handwritings, — as often in Shakespeare. 316. tending to: setting forth, indicating. 318. glanced at : hinted at, suggested. 319, 320. let Caesar seat him sure, etc. Let Caesar establish 199 Notes. Act I, Scene 2. himself firmly in power, for we will either overthrow him, or suffer the consequences of the attempt to unseat him. Notice the rhyme {sure . . . endure) in these two last lines, similar to the ending of II, 3, V, 3, and the close of the play. Such a rhyming couplet often marked the close of a scene, or even the exit of an actor, in old plays before the days of curtains and elaborate changes of scenery. (See page 176.) QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 1. Imagine and describe the setting of the scene. How does it make a splendid pageant on the stage to-day? 2. What is the first impression you get of Caesar? Favorable or unfavorable ? How? 3. Why do you think Shakespeare introduced the soothsayer at this point? What effect do his words have on the audience? 4. Does the soothsayer seem to have any effect upon Caesar? Upon Cassius or Brutus? 5. How does Cassius skilfully lead up to his subject? What is his evident motive from the first? 6. How would you have Brutus appear and act during the long speeches of Cassius, 90-131 and 1 35-1 61 ? 7. Does Cassius seem to you to speak from personal enmity toward Caesar, or solely from interest in the public welfare? Support your reasons by quoting various lines. 8. What is the effect of the distant shout and Brutus' com- ment? (131-133-) 9. What reasons does Cassius give for wanting Brutus to join the conspiracy? 10. Why do you think Cassius recalls to Brutus the deeds of his ancestors? 11. Compare the appearance of Caesar's train as it returns with the spectacle at the opening of the scene. 12. How does Shakespeare give us an impression of what has taken place while Cassius has been talking to Brutus ? 13. Why have Caesar comment upon Antony, Brutus, and 200 Act I, Scene 3. NotCS. especially upon Cassius, as he does? Do his words here have an important effect upon the audience? 14. Why does the poet have Casca speak entirely in prose ? 15. What opinion do you form of Casca from his manner and his words? 16. Comment upon the words of Brutus in lines 293-294. How does Cassius turn these words to his own use? 17. What opinion do you form of Cassius from his last speech in this scene? 18. Can you explain why this last speech is often omitted on the stage to-day ? 19. What contrast has Shakespeare already clearly made be- tween Cassius and Brutus ? 20. Quote any lines you particularly like and tell why you like them. ACT I Scene 3 In the preceding scene we saw Cassius sound Brutus' feelings concerning the growth of Caesar's power in the state, and learned from his final soliloquy the result of his observations, — Well, Brutus, thou art noble, yet I see . . . The third scene shows Cassius rapidly and with simple means winning Casca, and planning with Casca and Cinna the subtler devices which shall appeal to the moral sense of Brutus. The previous scene took place on February 15th. A month has passed, and now it is the evening before the 15th of March. 1. brought you Caesar home? Did you escort Caesar home? 3. the sway of earth : the balanced swing, or regular move- ment of the earth ; the established order of nature. 6. rived : split, cleaved. The form riven also is in use. In Cooper's " Deerslayer " there is an Indian chief named Rivenoak. 8. to be exalted, etc., so as to rise as high as the threatening 201 Notes. Act I, Scene 3. clouds. In " The Merchant of Venice " the Prince of Morocco speaks of The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven. 11. civil strife in heaven : civil war among the gods. 12. too saucy with : too insolent towards the gods. 13. destruction. The metre requires four syllables, — destruc- ti'On, At the end of a line it is not uncommon to find ion treated as two syllables, i-on. 14. more wonderful. That is, " more wonderful than this storm you have just been describing," or possibly Cicero may simply mean " more wonderful than usual." Which do you prefer? 15-27. These portents, or prodigies as Casca' calls them, are all given in Plutarch's life of Caesar. Compare the two versions. Which do you prefer, the prose or the poetry? 19. I ha' not since, etc. '* You see, I still have my sword drawn." (Cf. stage directions at opening of scene.) 20. Against: opposite. 21. Who. Shakespeare frequently uses "who" to refer to inanimate objects and animals, just as he uses " which " some- times when referring to persons. The relative pronouns had not become fixed in his time. (In the Bible of i6ii we find " Our Father, which art," etc.) surly : in a gruff or haughty manner. The word is an adjective and must not be confiised with the adverbs surely or sourly, (There is an adverb surlily,) 23. Upon a heap : in a crowd or mob. 26. the bird of night. This, of course, is the owl, which, like the crow and the raven, has always been considered a bird of bad omen. Can you account for these strange superstitions by the habits, notes, and color of these birds? Just before the murder of Duncan in '' Macbeth " Lady Mac- beth says : It was the owl th2it shrieked, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night. 29. conjointly meet : come together, happen at the same time. 202 Act I, Scene 3. Notes. 30. These are, etc. That is, " Such and such are their causes." 31. portentous things : signs and omens. 32. the climate : the region, country, — as we use the " clime." 33. strange-disposed : strangely ordered. Here again is an ad- jective where we should use an adverb. (Cf. " went surly by " in line 21 above.) 34. construe. See note on line 45 of the previous scene. 35. Clean from : completely away from, — as we say, " I clean forgot it." 39. Is not to -walk in. That is, is not fit or suitable to walk under. Some explain " sky " as meaning " weather," " atmos- phere," though this is not necessary. 42. what night is this! We should say, ^' What a night this is!" 47. Submitting me : exposing myself. 48. unbraced: '^with my doublet unfastened," — my coat un- buttoned. Shakespeare clothes his Romans in the English clothes of his own day. It is evident from this passage, and many others throughout the play, that actors in 1600 wore the costume of their own day, and did not attempt to dress according to the parts they played. 49. thunder-stone : the thunderbolt which many people still believe falls with lightning. 50. cross blue lightning: the zigzag flash, etc. How blue? 58. you do want, etc. : you lack, or make no use of them. 60. put on fear, etc. : suffer fear and throw yourself into a state of wonder. Thus we say, " 1 was thrown into confusion." 63-66. Why. After each why we must supply some such ex- pression as ^^ we see." 64. from quality and kind. That is, why we see birds and beasts change their natures. 65. old men fool and children calculate : why old men act like fools and children think wisely, — that is, why everything is up- side down. 66. their ordinance : what they were ordained or made to be. 203 Notes. Act I, Scene 3. 67. preformed faculties : faculties created for special purposes. 68. To monstrous quality: to a strange, abnormal kind of thing. why. This is the turning-point of this long involved sentence, and is about equivalent to now^ well then. 71. some monstrous state : some fearful state of affairs ; some terrible calamity in the government. Cassius' long, complicated sentence (62-71) may be summed up briefly as follows : " These strange sights, these things con- trary to nature, are a sign and v^arning from heaven." 77. prodigious : portentous, of the nature of a prodigy, — as generally in Shakespeare. 81. thews : muscles. 82. woe the while! woe the time! alas the day! 83. with our mothers^ spirits. That is, by feminine rather than masculine impulses or feelings. 84. Our yoke and sufferance : our endurance of tyranny. A good illustration of hendiadys, a figure of speech, which you should look up in a large dictionary. 90. Cassius from bondage, etc. Cassius will free himself from slavery, as he says later, by killing himself. 95. Can be retentive, etc. Can repress, or confine, man's spiritual strength. 97. In the last act we shall see presented in actual deed "this Roman idea of taking one's own life when it became unbearable." 98. know all the world besides : let all the world know too. 101. bondman: slave, " bound-man." 108. begin it with weak straws. "Just as men start a huge fire with worthless straws or shavings, so Caesar is using the de- generate Romans of his time to set the whole world ablaze with his own glory." (Hudson.) I 109. offal : worthless, waste stuff. 114. My answer must be made. I must answer for my words. 117. fleering : deceitful, treacherously grinning. Hold, my hand : Here, take my hand. 204 Act I, Scene 3. NotCS. 118. Be factious : be active in forming a party, a faction, for redress of all these grievances. 123. undergo: undertake, — as often in Shakespeare. 124. honorable-dangerous. A similar compound adjective oc- curred in line 33 above, and later we find " high-sighted '^ and "honey-heavy." 125. by this : by this time. 126. Pompey's porch. The magnificent theatre of Pompey, where the statue of the great Roman general stood, was erected in 55 B.C. in the Campus Martins, or Field of Mars. The pore k was an elaborate portico connected with the theatre. 128. the complexion of the element : the appearance of the heavens. 129. In favor's like : in aspect, or looks, is like the work, etc. (See note on "your outwsird /avor,''^ I, 2, 91.) 135. incorporate : closely united : heart and soul in sympathy with our efforts. 137. I am glad on't. Overlooking Cassius' last question Cinna expresses his pleasure at hearing that Casca has joined their conspiracy. on't : of it. In I, 2, 71 Cassius said, '^Be not jealous on me." 138. There's two or three. The grammar of our language was less rigidly fixed in Shakespeare's time than it is to-day. Thus we find in this play many instances of singular verbs with plural sub- jects, as just below in line 148, and again in line 155. Later we find " There is tears for his love." -As a matter of fact, in conver- sation to-day even educated persons use such expressions as " There's several reasons " and "There's six or eight of us." 143. praetor's chair. The praetor was a city magistrate, an- nually elected, who watched over the administration of justice. He was distinguished by the presence of lictors, by the toga, and by the curule chair. Marcus Brutus had been made praetor by Caesar in 44 B.C., or about two years before the conspiracy.* 146. old Brutus' statue. This was Lucius Junius Brutus, to whom Cassius referred in I, 2, 1 59-1 61. 205 Notes. Act I, Scene 3. There was a Brutus once that would have brooked The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king. It is interesting to see how closely Shakespeare followed Plu- tarch's '' Life of Brutus " here : "For under the image of his ancestor Junius Brutus (that drave the kings out of Rome) they wrote : O, that it pleased the gods thou wert now alive, Brutus ! and again, That thou wert here among us now! His tribunal, or chair, where he gave audience during the time he was Praetor, was full of such bills : " Brutus, thou art asleep, and art not Brutus indeed." 148. Is. See note on "There's two or three," line 138 above. 150. hie : hasten, hurry, • — often with a pronoun as in " The Merchant," "Hie thee, gentle Jew." 152. Pompey^s theatre. See note on " Pompey's porch " in line 126 above. 154, 155. three parts of him is. See note on " There's two or three" in line 138 above. Such expressions as this were really not bad grammar -in Shakespeare's English. 159. his countenance : his approval, his countenancing support. alchemy. This was the art by which men for centuries tried to turn the base metals, such as lead and iron, into gold. From the Greek Midas, who was able to turn everything he touched into gold, down to modern times, literature is full of references to alchemy and the alchemist. 162. You have right well conceited : you have formed an ex- cellent idea of Brutus and our great need of him. QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 1. Compare the Cassius of this scene with the Cassius of Scene 2, especially the manner of his winning Casca and Brutus. 2. What would probably be the effect upon the audience of the thunder and lightning during this scene ? Of the " porten- tous things " described by Casca ? 206 Act II, Scene 1. NoteS. 3. What are some of the superstitions associated with the owl ? (Line 26.) 4. What does the last speech of Casca (157-160) add to our knowledge of Brutus ? 5. From what you now have seen of Cassius, describe his ap- pearance in some detail. 6. How far has the plot been developed by this first act ? 7. In what ways has Shakespeare aroused your interest and curiosity ? 8. Judging by this first act, what part would you assign to the leading actor in your company of players ? What to the next ? ACT II Scene 1 We must imagine that an hour or more has passed since the end of Act I, for it now is nearly daylight of the 15th of March. A little later Cassius hears a clock strike three. Brutus' orchard. We should say "Brutus' garden." Shake- speare uses these two words as synonyms. I. What, Lucius! "What" and "when'' (line 5 below) were common words of exclamation or calling, like our colloquial " Hi, there," or "Oh." When Shylock is leaving his house he calls to his daughter inside to come out and speak to him: "What, Jes- sica! . . . Why, Jessica, I say!" 3. how near to day. We must supply "it is " 7. taper. A sort of wick or small candle, probably made of wax. II. to spurn at him : to reject him, or almost " to strike at him." Later Caesar says, "I spurn thee like a cur out of my way," which is the more common use of the word. 12. the general : the public, the community. 14. It is the bright day, etc. Just as snakes come out to bask in the warm sun, so the "sunshine of royalty, — the dazzle of being king, — will kindle the serpent in Caesar." 207 Notes. Act II, Scene 1. 15. that craves wary walking : that demands careful, watchful walking. Notice that here, and again at the end of his soliloquy (32-34) , Brutus has not forgotten his comparison of Caesar and a serpent. — that: be that so; suppose him crowned. 17. do danger with : do what is dangerous, — like our expres- sions " do mischief," " do harm," " do wrong," etc. 18. when it disjoins remorse : when it separates mercy, or pity, from power. 20. his affections swayed : his emotions, or feelings, governed him more than his reason. 21. a common proof : a common experience, a thing commonly proved. 26. the base degrees : the lower steps, the lower rounds of the ladder. A degree is literally a " step down." 28. prevent: anticipate, get ahead of him. 28, 29. since the quarrel will bear no color, etc. That is, " Since our case against him cannot be justified by what he is now, let us state our argument thus," etc. Professor Hudson thus sums up Brutus' reasoning : " Since we have no apparent ground of complaint against Caesar in what he is, or in anything he has yet done, let us assume that the further addition of a crown will quite transform his nature, and make him a serpent." 33. as his kind : like the rest of its kind, or species. 34. kill him. That is, — let us, therefore, kill him in the shell. 35. closet. This wordswas formerly used for any small room devoted to retirement, privacy, or study, and was not confined to a room for storing clothes or dishes. Here Lucius refers to Bru- tus' private study. (See line 7 above.) 36. a flint. A piece of stone used with tinder for striking a fire. 44. exhalations : meteors. The ancients believed that the sun drew vapor up from the earth and then exhaledii, or breathed it forth, in the form of meteors. 47. redress : set right that which is wrong. 48. Brutus, thou sleep^st. See note on I, 3, 146. 208 Act II, Scene 1. NoteS. 50. I have took. Compare this with " mistook your passion " in I, 2j 48, and see note. 53. My ancestors. This is a reference to Lucius Junius Brutus. See note to I, 3, 146. 61. whet: excite, arouse, — literally, "sharpen/- as in the expression "to whet one's appetite." (Cf. whetsiont.) 64. motion : impulse, motive. 64, 65. the interim is like a phantasma : the time between is like a nightmare. 66. The genius, etc. : the soul and the bodily powers ; the spiritual and physical powers ; the guardian angel of man and his passions, — iDut just exactly what Shakespeare meant by *' genius " and " mortal instruments " in this famous line will always remain a mystery. The editors have written pages upon these words. 67. the state of man; the government of man. Man is compared to a kingdom, or state, in which civil war arises be- tween the various elements, — the " genius and the mortal instruments.'" 69. The nature of : something like. 70. your brother. Really brother-in-law, for Cassius had mar- ried Brutus' sister, Junia. 72. moe : more, — frequent in Shakespeare. ^ Friends, I owe moe tears To this dead man than you shall see me pay. (V, 3,101.) 73. their hats, etc. Here is another good illustration of Shakespeare's disregard of the costumes actually worn in Rome. " The Roman pileiis was a close fitting cap of felt without any brim, and the petasus was worn only to keep off the sun. Shakespeare dressed his Romans in the slouched hats of his own time." (Wright.) But does this make the least particle of difference in our enjoyment of the play, or injure its dramatic quality ? 76. By any mark of favor : by a special distinction of 209 Notes. Act II, Scene 1. features. Do you remember when Cassius said to Brutus, " I do know your outward favor"? 77. faction. A body of persons combined for a certain pur- pose, — here the conspirators. 79. When evils are most free. That is, when crimes are most free from the law, — most unrestrained. 82. affability : courteous words, gentle manners. 83. path. Here the word is a verb and means to walk^ walk forth ; but it may be a printer's error. Put has been suggested by many of the critics. Fal/i as a verb, however, occurs in writers of Shakespeare's time. thy native semblance on : in thy true form. 84. Erebus. This was a place of darkness, according to Greek mythology, part way between the earth and Hades ; but here, as often in literature, the term is applied vaguely to the lower world. 85. prevention: discovery, — which would lead to prevention or inference. 86. we are too bold, etc. : we are too bold thus to break in upon your rest. 100. Shall I entreat a word : May I have a word with you ? 104. fret: adorn, ornament with lines or pencillings. Ham- let speaks of " this majestical roof (the heavens) fretted with golden fire." 107, 108. a great way growing, etc. The sun rises far to the south, considering the early time of year. Casca is rather in- accurate, for on March 15th the sun would rise almost exactly in the east. 110. the high east: exact, or perfect, east, — as we say ''^ high noon." 112. your hands all over : all your hands once more. Brutus shook hands with the conspirators when they arrived; now after talking with Cassius he shakes hands with them all again. 114. the face of men. Probably, the look of disapproval of Caesar in the faces of men. 210 Act II, Scene 1. NotCS. 115. sufferance : suffering. 116. break off betimes : lef s throw up the whole business at once. 117. hence to his idle bed : go to bed and remain there idle. So we often say ^' a sick bed,'''' and Shakespeare in " Troilus and Cressida^' has "upon a lazy bedy 114-118. The broken grammatical structure of these lines makes them a little difficult. Summed up, the meaning is : If the unspoken words in men's looks, together with our own suffering and the abuses of the time, are not sufficient motives for our conspiracy, let us give up our scheme, go home, and allow proud tyranny to flourish. 119. drop by lottery. That is, "die at the mere whim of the tyrant, just as by the mere chance of a lottery." (Thorndike.) if these. That is, these three motives just enumerated. 123. What : Why. The figure, of course, is from horseback riding, the source of many comparisons and figures in Shake- speare. How do you account for this? 125. Than secret Romans : that of secret Romans. have spoke. Compare this with " have took " in line 50 above, and see note on I, 2, 48. 126. palter: quibble, act trickily. 129. cautelous : crafty, sly, — a rare word even in Shakespeare. 130. carrions. Literally "carcasses." Here " men as good as dead." 133. The even virtue : The calm, firm virtue. 134. the insuppressive mettle : the nature of our spirits which cannot be suppressed. 135. or our cause or. This construction, instead of either . . . or, occurs in English poetry as late as Tennyson. 136. Did need : ever could need. 138. a several bastardy: a special treason against his noble birth. 144. his silver hairs. At this time Cicero was sixty years old. Of course Metellus remembers that he has just used 2X1 Notes. Act II, Scene 1. ^^ silver" when in the next line he speaks oi purchasing good opinion," — that is, a good reputation, — and buying men's voices. 148. Our youths, etc. That is, our light, uncontrolled youth shall not be in evidence at all. 150. break with him : tell him, — as we say " break the news." 157. of him: in him. In the previous line ^*^bf" = by. Notice other variations in the use of prepositions as you read the play. 158. A shrewd contriver: an evil plotter or schemer. Ac- cording to Plutarch, all of the conspirators, except Brutus, wished to slay Antony as well as Caesar. 164. envy : hatred, malice, — as usually in Shakespeare. So "envious'' in line 178 below means "malicious," "evil." 169. come by : get hold of. 175-178. Let our hearts rouse our hands to act, and then after the deed is done they may reprove them, just as clever masters arouse their servants to an outrageous act, and then find fault with them for doing it. What do you think of this advice? 178. Our purpose necessary. That is, seem necessary and not malicious. 180. purgers : cleansers, healers. They will heal Rome of its disease of tyranny. 184. ingrafted love : love so deeply implanted that it has be- come a part of him. 187. take thought and die. This was an old expression for "grieve one's self to death." In Elizabethan English " thought" often meant "worry," as in the New Testament, — "Take no thought for the morrow," which means, of course, " be not anxious or solicitous about the morrow." 188. And that were much, etc. That would be a great deal for him to do, — as Brutus explains in the next line. 190. no fear in him : nothing to be feared in him. Clock strikes. Clocks such as Shakespeare had in mind were unknown to the Romans ; thus we have here another anachronism. Can you explain it? 212 Act II, Scene 1. NotCS. 192. stricken. Shakespeare also uses the forms ^^ struck'' and "strucken." We still use the word in such expressions as "he was stricken with the disease," and " the words were stricken from the record." 196. Quite from the main opinion: wholly contrary to the strong opinion. 197. fantasy : imagination. ceremonies: superstitious rites. 198. apparent prodigies : manifest, clearly seen signs and omens. 200. augurers, or augurs, were interpreters of omens, especially of those seen in the entrails of animals which were sacrificed to the gods. No Roman would set about an important undertaking without consulting the augurs for favorable omens. 203. o'ersway : win him over, change his mind. 204. According to early stories, the unicorn in its fury would drive its horn into a tree behind which the hunter had dodged for safety, and before it broke free again was captured or killed. Bears were supposed to be easily shot while they remained motionless, gazing into a mirror that had been set up to attract them. Elephants were captured by means of pitfalls, covered with straw or leaves, and lions were snared with nets or toils. 208. flattered. Pronounced y?^/-/^r-^