The English of Shakespeare : illustrated in a philological commentary on his Julius Caesar

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THE

English of Shakespeare;

ILLDSTKATED IK

^ i^ilfllopal Cflmm^ntars

JULIUS CESAR.

GEORGE L. CRATK,

PBOFES30B or BISTORT AND OF ENGLISH LitrrAT:JKB IJf QUSEK'S COij;.SGA,
BELFAST. . ^. m ■* .

!EB£leK, from iije tirtjitts iaebigeO Honfion EDttton,

BY

W. J. ROLFE,

KA8TEB or THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAKBBIDOB, MASS.

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY EDWIN GINK

WOOLWORTH, AINSWORTH, & CO.

CHICAGO: FRED B. QINN.

1869.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by

CROSBY AND AINSWORTH,

In the Clerk'B Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusett*.

THIRD EDITION.

• Tt«eOTVrt 0 AT TN t

NO. 4 SPKINO LANS.

Preuwork bj John Wilson and Sob.

PREFACE

TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.

A YEAR ago I let a class at school take yulius
CcEsar as their first reading in Shakespeare, and
made daily use of this book of Professor Craik's in
teaching them. They noted down all the more im-
portant points as I gave them, and, without having
seen the book, learned the better part of it pretty
thoroughly. It took more time than I had ever
before given to a single play, — considerably more,
of course, than would have been necessary if the
book had been in the hands of the scholars ; but
the results satisfied me that it was time well spent.
I never had a class that became so heartily interested
in Shakespeare, or that went on so rapidly and so
well in reading other plays. It was the success of
this experiment with the book that led me to think
of editing it. I wanted it for my own classes, and
I venture to hope that it may be of service to other
students of Shakespeare, whether in school or out
of school. rr: i\^^ f\

viii Preface to the American Edition.

as well as I could Prof. Craik's plan of giving the
readings adopted by the different editors, and their
comments on difficult or disputed passages.

I have added largely to the references to Bible
passages illustrating Shakespeare's English. I had
done a good part of this work some months before
I met with The Bible Word-Book^ by Eastwood
and Wright (London, 1866) ; but in revising my
notes for publication I made free use of that admi-
rable little book, and drew from it considerable
additional matter.

To Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard College, for the
encouragement he has given me in my work, and
for many valuable criticisms and suggestions, I am
under especial obligations.

W. J. R.

Cambridge, Feb. 15, 1867.

THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

In this attempt to illustrate the English of
Shakespeare, I would be understood to have had
a twofold purpose, in conformity with the title of
the volume, which would naturally be taken to*prom-
ise something of exposition in rg^nrri bftth to the *
language or style of Shakespeare and to the English
Janguage generally.

My first business I have considered to be the cor-
rect exhibition and explanation of the noble work
of our great dramatist with which the volume pro-
fesses to be specially occupied. I will begin, there-
fore, by stating what I have done, or endeavored to
do, for the Play of Julius C^sar.

I have given what I believe to be a more nearly
authentic text than has yet appeared. Julius Ccesar
is, probably, of all Shakespeare's Plays, the one of
which the text has come down to us in the least
unsatisfactory state. From whatever cause it has
happened, the passages in this Play as to the true
reading of which there can be much reasonable
doubt are, comparatively, very few. Even when
anything is wrong in the original edition, the man-
ner in which it is to be set to rights is for the most
part both pretty obvious and nearly certain. There

(Ix)

X The Author's Preface.

are, perhaps, scarcely so many as half a dozen lines
of any importance which must be given up as hope-
lessly incurable or even doubtful. It is, I should
think, of all the Plays, by much the easiest to edit ;
both the settlement of the text and its explanation
are, I conceive, simpler than would be the case in
any other; and it is for that reason partly that I
have selected it for the present attempt.

The alterations Which I haVe found it necessary
to make upon the commonly received text do not
amount to very many ; and the considerations by
which I have been guided are in every instance fully
stated in the Commentary. The only conjectural
innovations which I have ventured upon of my own
are, the change of " What night is this ? " into " What
anight is this!" in the speech numbered 117; the
insertion of *' not" after " Has he," in that numbered
401 ; and the transposition of the two names Lu-
cilius and Lucius in that numbered 520. The first
and second of these three corrections are of little
moment, though both, I think, clearly required ; the
third I hold to be both of absolute certainty and
necessity, and also of considerable importance, af-
fecting as it does the whole course of the Fourth
Act of the Play, restoring propriety and consistency
to the conduct of the action and the parts sustained
by the various personages, and vindicating a reading
of the First Folio in a subsequent speech (570),
which, curiously enough, had never been previously
noticed by anybody, but has been silently ignored
and departed from even by those of the modern
editors who have professed to adhere the most scru-
pulously to that original text.

The Author's Preface. xi

For the rest, the present text differs in nothing
material from that which is found in all the modern
editions, unless it be that I have restored from the
First Folio one or two antiquated forms, — such as
^em for them^ and moe in several places for more^ —
which have been usually suppressed, although ^em
remains familiar enough in our colloquial speech,
or at any rate is still perfectly intelligible and unam-
biguous, and moe is sometimes the only form that
will suit the exigencies of the verse. . . .

As for the present Commentary on the Play of
Julius Ccesar^, it will be perceived that it does not
at all aspire to what is commonly distinguished as
the higher criticism. It does not seek to examine or
to expound this Shakespearian drama aesthetically,
but only philologically, or with respect to the lan-
guage. The only kind of criticism which it pro-
fesses is whaf is called verbal criticism. Its whole
aim, in so far as it relates to the particular work to
which it is attached, is, as far as may be done, first
to ascertain or determine the text, secondly to ex-
plain it; to inquire, in other words, what Shake-
speare really wrote, and how what he has written
is to be read and construed.

Wherever either the earliest text or that which is
commonly received has been deviated from to the
extent of a word or a syllable, the alteration has
been distinctly indicated. In this way a complete
representation is given, in so far at least as regards
the language, both of the text of the editio princeps
and of the textus receptus. I have not sought to
register with the same exactness the various readings
of the other texts, ancient and modern ; but I be-

xii The Author's Preface.

lieve, nevertheless, that all will be found to be noted
that are of any interest either in the Second Folio
or among the conjectures of the long array of edi-
tors and commentators extending from Rowe to our
own day.

Then, with regard to the explanation of the text :
I confess that here my fear is rather that I shall be
thought to have done too much than too little. But
I have been desirous to omit nothing that any reader
might require for the full understanding of the Play,
in so far as I was able to supply it. I have even
retained the common school-boy explanations of the
few points of Roman antiquities to which allusions
occur, such as the arrangements of the Calendar,
the usages of the Lupercalia, etc. The expressioii^
however, is what I have chiefly dwelt upon. The
labors of scores of expositors, emlDodied in hun-
dreds of volumes, attest the existence m the writings
of Shakespeare of numerous words, phraseologies,
and passages the import of which is, to say the
least, not obvious to ordinary readers of the present
day. This comes partly from certain characteristics
of his style, which would probably have made him
occasionally a difiicult author in any circumstances ;
but much more from the two facts, of the corrupted
or at least doubtful state of the text in many places,
and the changes that our national speech has under-
gone since his age. The English of the sixteenth
century is in various respects a different language
from that of the nineteenth. The words and con-
structions are not throughout the same, and when
they are they have not always the same meaning.
Much of Shakespeare's vocabulary has ceased to

The Author's Preface. xiii

fall from either our lips or our pens ; much of the
meaning which he attached to so much of it as still
survives has dropped out of our minds. What is most
misleading of all, many words and forms have ac-
quired senses for us which they had not for him.
All such cases that the Play presents I have made
it my object to notice. Wherever there seemed to
be any risk of the true meaning being mistaken,
I have, in as few words as possible stated what I
conceived it to be. Where it was not clear to my-
self, I have frankly confessed my inability to explain
it satisfactorily.

In so far as the Commentary relates to the par-
ticular Play which it goes over, and professes to
elucidate, it is intended to be as complete as I could
make it, in the sense of not leaving any passage
unremarked upon which seemed to be difficult or
obscure. But, of course, it puts forward no preten-
sions to a similar completeness, or thoroughness, in
respect of any further purpose. It is far from em-
bracing the whole subject of the English of Shake'
speare^ or making any attempt to do so. It is merely
an introduction to that subject. In the Prolegomena^
nevertheless, I have sought to lay a foundation for
the full and systematic treatment of an important
department of it, in the exposition which is given of
some principles of our prosody, and some peculiari-
ties of Shakespeare's versification, which his editors
have not in general sufficiently attended to. Such
investigations are, I conceive, full of promise of new
light in regard to the history both of the Plays and
of the mind of their author.

Still less can the Commentary pretend to any

xiv The Author's Preface.

completeness in what it may contain in reference to
the history and constitution of the language gener-
ally, or of particular classes of words and construc-
tions. Among the fragments, or specimens, how-
ever,— for they can be nothing more, — which occur
in it of this kind of speculation, are a few which
will be found, perhaps, to carry out the examination
of a principle, or the survey of a group of connected
facts, farther than had before been done; such as
thbse in the notes on Merely (45), on Its (54), on
Shrew and Shrewd (186), on Statue (246), on the
prefix Be (389) , etc. . . .

G. L. C.

CONTENTS

PROLEGOMENA.

Shakespeare's Personal History. X

Shakespeare's Works 4

The Sources for the Text op Shakespeare's

Plays 10

The Shakespearian Editors and Commenta-
tors 23

The Modern Shakespearian Texts 25

The Mechanism of English Verse, and the

Prosody of the Plays of Shakespeare. 28

Shakespeare's Julius C-tEsar 44

THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS C^SAR 59

PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY 13X

(XV)

[The English language, which has produced and nour-
ished with its milk the greatest of modern poets, the only
one who can be compared to the classical poets of antiquity,
(who does not see that I am speaking of Shakespeare?)
may of good right be called a universal language.

Grimm,

English . . . has always needed, and still needs, more
powerful securities and bulwarks against incessant revolu-
tion than other languages of less heterogeneous compo-
sition. The three great literary monuments, the English
Bible, Shakespeare, and Milton, fixed the syntax of the
sacred and the secular dialects in the forms which they had
already taken, and perpetuated so much of the vocabulary
as entered into their composition.

Their great poets have been more powerful than any
other secular influence in first making, and then keeping,
the Englishman and the American what they are, what for
hundreds of years they have been, what, God willing, for
thousands they shall be, the pioneer race in the march of
man towards the highest summits of worthy human achieve-
ment. Marsk.

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakespeare spoke, the faith and morals hold
That Milton held !

Wordsworth.'\

(xvl)

THE

English of Shakespeare,

ETC.

PROLEGOMENA.
I. SHAKESPEARE'S PERSONAL HISTORY.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was born at
Stratford-upon-Avon, in the county of War-
wick, in April, 1564. His baptism is recorded in the
parish register as having taken place on Wednesday
the 26th, and the inscription on his tomb makes him
to have been in his tifty-third year when he died, on
the 23d of April, 1616; his birthday, therefore, can-
not have been later than the 23d. It was more
probably some days earlier. It is commonly as-
sumed, nevertheless, to have been the 23d, which,
besides being also the day of his death, is the day
dedicated to St. George the Martyr, the patron saint
of England.

His father was John Shakespeare ; his mother,
Mary Arderne, or Arden. The Ardens were among
the oldest of the county gentry ; many of the
Shakespeares also, who were numerous in Warwick-
shire, were of good condition. The name in provin-
cial speech was probably sounded Shackspeare or
Shacksper ; but even in the poet's own day its more

2 Prolegomena.

refined or literary pronunciation seems to have been
the same that now prevails. It was certainly recog-
nized as a combination of the two words Shake and
Spear. His own spelling of it, however, in a few
instances in which that, our only known fragment
of his handwriting, has come down to us, is Shak-
spere.

John Shakespeare appears to have followed the
business of a glover, including, no doubt, the making
of gloves as well as the selling of them. He seems
to have fallen latterly into decayed circumstances ;
but in his better days it is evident that he ranked
with the first class of the burgesses of his town. He
was for many years an alderman, and twice filled
the office of High Bailiff', or chief magistrate. He
was also, though perhaps never very wealthy, but
rather always a struggling man, possessed of some
houses in Stratford, as well as of a small freehold
estate acquired by his marriage ; and his connection
with the Arden family would itself bring him con-
sideration. His marriage probably took place in
1557. ^^ lived till 1602, and his wife till 1608. Of
eight children, four sons and four daughters, William
was the third, but the eldest son.

Shakespeare's father, like the generality of persons
of his station in life of that day, appears to have
been unable to write his name ; ^11 his signature in
the books of the corporation is his cross, or mark ;
but there can be no doubt that the son had a gram-
mar-school education. He was in all probability
sent to the free-school of his native town. Affier he
left school it has been thought that he may have
spent some time in an attorney's office. But in 1582,
when he was only eighteen, he married ; his wife,
Anne Hathaway, of Shottery, in the neighborhood

Personal History. 3

of Stratford, was about eight years older than him-
self; children soon followed, — first a daughter, tlien
twins, a son and daughter ; and this involvement
may be conjectured to have been what drove him to
London, in the necessity of finding some way of
supporting his family which required no apprentice-
ship. He became first an actor, then a writer for
the stage. Already by the year 1589 he had worked
his way up to be one of the proprietors of the Black-
friars Theatre.* But he seems always to have con-
tinued to look upon Stratford as his home ; there he
left his w^ife and children ; he is said to have made
a point of revisiting his native town once a year;
and thither, after he had, by the unceasing activity
of many years, secured a competency, he returned
to spend the evening of his days in quiet. So that
we may say he resorted to London, after all, only as
the sailor goes to sea, always intending to come
back. He appears to have finally retired to Strat-
ford, about the year 161 2, and settled there on a prop-
erty which he had purchased some years previous :
his wife still lived, and also his two daughters, of
whom the elder, Susanna, was married to Dr. John
Hall, a physician, in 1607 ; the younger, Judith, to Mr.
Thomas Qiiiney, in February, 161 6. But he had lost
his only son, who was named Hamnet, in 1596,
when the boy was in his twelfth year. Shakespeare
died at Stratford, as already mentioned, on the 23d
of April, 1616 ; and he lies interred in tlie parish
church there.

His wife survived till August, 1623. Both his

* [But the genuineness of the document upon which this
statement is based has been disputed by the highest paleo-
graphic authority in England. See White's Shakespeare,
vol. i. p. Ivii., foot-note; pp. Ixiii. foil.]

4 Prolegomena.

daughters had families ; Susanna, a daughter, who
was twice married ; Judith, three sons ; but no de-
scendant of the great poet now exists. The last was
probably Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Hall, who be-
came the wife first of Thomas Nash, Esq., secondly
of Sir John Barnard, and died without issue by
either husband in February, 1670. Nor is it known
that there are any descendants even of his father
remaining, although one of his brothers and also
one of his sisters are ascertained to have been mar-
ried, and to have had issue.

II. SHAKESPEARE'S WORKS.

The first work of Shakespeare's which was
printed with his name was his poem entitled Vemcs
and Adonis^ in stanzas consisting each of an alter-
nately rhyming quatrain followed by a couplet. It
appeared in 1593, with a Dedication to the Earl of
Southampton, in which the author styles it the .first
heir of his invention. This was followed in 1594 by
The Rape of Lucrece^ in stanzas of seven lines,
one rhyming to the fourth being here inserted before
the closing couplet ; it is also dedicated to Lord
Southampton, to whom the author expresses the
most unlimited obligation. " What I have done,"
he says, " is yours ; what I have to do is yours ;
being part in all I have, devoted yours." The
Venus and Adonis was thrice reprinted in Shake-
speare's lifetime ; the Lucrece^ five or six times.

His other works, besides his Plays, are The Pas-
sionate Pilgrim^ a small collection of poems, first
printed in 1599; and his Sonnets^ 154 in number,
with the poem entitled A Lover's Co7?zplaint (in
the same stanza as the Lttcrece)^ which appeared

Works. 5

together in 1609. But the Sonnets, or some of them
at least, were well known long before this. " As
the soul of Euphorbus was thought to live in Pythag-
oras," says a writer named Francis Meres in his
Palladis Tamia^ published in 1598, " so the sweet
witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-
tongued Shakespeare : witness his Venus and Ado-
nis^ his Lucrece^ his sugared Sonnets among his
private friends." It was still a common practice for
works to be circulated to a limited extent in manu-
script while they were withheld from the press.

The first edition of Shakespeare's collected Dra-
matic Works appeared in 1623, or not till seven
years after his death, in a folio volume. A second
edition, with numerous verbal alterations, but no
additional Plays, was brought out in the same form
in 1632. In 1664 appeared a third edition, also in
folio, containing seven additional Plays. Ai)d a
fourth and last folio reprint followed in 1685.

The Plays that are now commonly received as
Shakespeare's are all those that are contained in the
First Folio, being thirty-six in number, together with
Pericles^ Prince of Tyre^ one of the seven added in
the Third Folio. Besides the other six in that edi-
tion, — entitled The Tragedy of Locrine^ The
First Part of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle^ The
Chronicle History of Thomas Lord Cromwell^
The Lo7ido7i Prodigal^ The Puritan^ and A York-
shire Tragedy^ — there have been ascribed to Shake-
speare in more recent times the old Plays of The
Reign of King Edward the Third a.nd The Trage-
dy of Arden of Fever sham ; and by certain Ger-
man critics those of The Cofncdy of George-a- Green
(generally held to be the work of Robert Greene),
The Co?nedy of Mucedorus^ The Birth of Merlin^

6 Prolegomena.

and The Merry Devil of Edmonton, Some of
these are among the humblest productions of the
human intellect : that the notion of their being
Shakespeare's should have been taken up by such
men as Schlegel and Tieck is an illustrious instance
of how far the blinding and extravagant spirit of
system may go. Finally, the Play of The Two No-
ble Kinsmetz^ commonly included among those of
Beaumont and Fletcher, has been attributed in part
to Shakespeare ; it is described on the title page of
the first edition, published in 1634, as written by
Fletcher and Shakespeare, and the opinion that
Shakespeare had a share in it has been revived in
our own day.

Of the thirty-seven Plays generally held to be gen-
uine, eighteen are known to have been separately
printed, some of them oftener than once, in Shake-
speare's lifetime : — Titus Andronicus^ Romeo and
yuliet^ Love's Labour's Lost^ Midsummer Nighfs
Dream^ Much Ado about Nothings Mercha7it of
Venice^ Lear^ Troilus and Cressida^ Pericles^
Richard the Seco7id^ First Part of Henry the
Fourth^ Second Part of He7iry the Fourth^ Rich
ard the Third (all substantially as we now have
them) ; Ha^nlet^ in three editions, two of them
greatly diflering the one from the other ; and, in
forms more or less unlike our present copies, The
Merry Wives of Windsor^ Henry the Fifths and the
Second ?iXi^ Third Parts of Heitry the Sixths under
the titles of " The First Part of the Contention be-
twixt the Houses of York and Lancaster," and "The
True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York " (often
referred to as " The Second Part of the Conten-
tion" ). Nor is it improbable that there may have
been early impressions of some others of the Plays,

Works. 7

although no copies are now known. The Tragedy
of Othello was also printed separately in 1622. All
these separately published Plays are in quarto, and
are familiarly known as the old or early Quartos.

The following eighteen Plays appeared for the
first time, as far as is known, in the Folio of 1623 : —
The Tempest^ The Two Geiitleinen of Vero7ia^
Measure for Measure^ The Comedy of Errors^ As
Tou Like It^ The Taming of the Shrew ^ All's
Well that Ends Well, Twelfth Night, A Winter's
Tale, King John, The First Part of Henry the
Sixth, Henry the Eighth, Coriolanus, Timon of
Athens, Julius Ccesar, Macbeth, Anthony and
Cleopatra, and Cymbeline.

There is reason to believe that the first edition of
Titus Andronicus was printed in 1594, although
the earliest of which any copy is now known is
dated 1600. The earliest existing editions oi Romeo
and fuliet, Richard the Second, and Richard the
Third, bear the date of 1597. The dates of the
other Quartos (except Othello) all range between
159S and 1609. It appears, however, from Francis
Mercs's book, mentioned above, that by the year
1598, when it was published, Shakespeare had al-
ready produced at least the following Plays, several
of which, as we have seen, are not known to have
been printed till they were included, a quarter of a
century afterwards, in the First Folio : — The Two
Gentle?nen of Verona, The Comedy of Errors,
Love's Labour's Lost, Midsunwzer Night's Dream,
The Merchant of Venice, Richard the Second,
Richard the Third, Hefzry the Fourth, King
John, Titus Andro7iicus, Romeo a?id ytiliet, and
another called Lovers Labour's Won, which has been
commonly supposed to be that now entitled All's

8 Prolegomena

Well that Ends Well.* And Meres cannot be held
to profess to do more than to instance some of the
works by which Shakespeare had by this time, in his
opinion, proved himself the greatest English writer
that had yet arisen, both in tragedy and in comedy.
Six years before this, or in 1592, Robert Greene,

* But the play of ^//'5 Well that Ends Well seems to have
its present title built or wrought into it, and as it were in-
corporated with it. It is Helena's habitual word, and the
thought that is never absent from her mind. "All's well
that ends well," she exclaims, in the Fourth Scene of the
Fourth Act, —

Still the fine's the crown :
Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.

And again in the First Scene of the Fifth Act : —

All's well that ends well jet. •

So also the King, in the concluding lines of the play : —

All yet seems well ; and, if it end so meet
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet;

and then to the audience : —

The king's a beggar, now the play is done ;
All is well ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content.

There would be no nature or meaning in the dialogue cir-
cling around the phrase in question, or continually return-
ing upon it, in this way, unless it formed the name of the
Play. On the other hand, there is not an expression
throughout the piece that can be fairly considered as allu-
sive to such a title as Love's Labour's Won.

Another notion that has been taken up is that the Play
now known as The Temfest is that designated Love's La-
bour's Won by Meres. This is the theory of the Reverend
Joseph Hunter, first brought forward in a " Disquisition on
the Tempest," published in 1841, and reproduced in the Sec-
ond Part of his "New Illustrations of the Life, Studies, and
Writings of Shakespeare," 1844. But, notwithstanding all
the learning and ingenuity by which it has been set forth
and defended, it has probably not met with much accept-
ance. One would as soon* believe with Ulrici that The
Tem;pest is the very latest of all Shakespeare's Plays, as with
Mr. Hunter that it is one of his earliest, — " nearly the first
in time," he calls it, " as the first in place [meaning as it

Works. 9

accounted by himself and others one of the chief
lights of that early morning of our drama, but
destined to be soon completely outshone and extin-
guished, had, perhaps with some presentiment of
his coming fate, in a pamphlet which he entitled
" Greene's Groatsworth of Wit," thus vented his

stands in the original collective edition], of the dramas
which are wholly his."

May not the true Love's Labour's Won be what we now
call The Taming of the Shrew ? That play is founded upon
an older one called The Taining of A Shrew ; it is therefore
in the highest degree improbable that it was originally pro-
duced under its present name. The designation by which
it is now known, in all likelihood, was only given to it after
its predecessor had been driven from the stage, and had
come to be generally forgotten. Have we not that which it
previously laore indicated in one of the restorations of Mr.
Collier's MS. annotator, who directs us, in the last line but
one of the Second Act, instead of " in this case oi wooing"
to read " in this case oi winning" thus giving us what may
stand, in want of a better, for a rhyme to the "if I fail not
of my cunning" of the line following.? The lines are pretty
evidently intended to rln^me, however rudely. The Play is,
besides, full of other repetitions of the same key-note. Thus,
in the Second Scene of Act I., when Hortensio informs Gre-
mio that he had promised Petrucio, if he would become
suitor to Katharine, that they "would be contributors. And
bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er," Gremio answers,
"And so we will, provided that he win her." In the Fifth
Scene of Act IV., when the resolute Veronese has brought
the shrew to a complete submission, Hortensio's congratula-
tion is, " Petrucio, go thy ways ; the field is won." So in
the concluding scene the lady's father exclaims, " Now fair
befall thee, good Petrucio ! The wager thou hast won ; " to
which the latter replies, "Nay, I will win my wager better
yet." And his last words in passing from the stage, as if in
pointed allusion to our supposed title of the piece, are, —

*Twas I won the wager, though you [Luceuiiol hit the white ;
And, being a winner, God give you good night I

The title of Love's Labour's Won, it may be added, might
also comprehend the underplot of Lucentio and Bianca, and
even that of Hortensio and the Widow, though in the case
of the latter it might rather be supposed to be the lady who
should be deemed the winning party.

lo Prolegomena.

anger against the new luminary : " There is an
upstart crow, beautified with our feathers, that, with
his tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide, supposes
he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the
best of you ; and, being an absolute Johannes Fac-
totum^ is, in his own conceit, the only Shake-sce?ie
in a country." This would seem to imply, what is
otherwise probable enough, that up to this time
Shakespeare had chiefly made himself known as a
dramatic writer by remodelling and improving the
works of his predecessors. He may, however, have
also even already produced some Plays wholly of his
own composition. If Titus Andronicus and the
Three Parts of Henry the Sixth are to be accounted
his in any sense, they probably belong to this earliest
stage of his career.

Of the thirty-seven Plays there are seven the
authenticity of which has been more or less ques-
tioned. The Three Parts of King Henry the Sixth
(especially the First) and Titus Andronicus^ if they
are by Shakespeare, have very little of his character-
istic manner ; Pericles has come down to us in so
corrupted a state that the evidence of manner and
style is somewhat unsatisfactory, though it is prob-
ably his ; Timon of Athens is generally admitted to
be only partly his ; and much of King Henry the
Eighth^ which has only recently come to be sus-
pected, is also evidently by another hand.

III. THE SOURCES FOR THE TEXT OF SHAKE-
SPEARE'S PLAYS.

From what has been stated it appears that, of the
entire number of thirty-seven Plays which are usu-
ally regarded as Shakespeare's, there are ovXy four'

The Old Texts. ii

teen (including Hamlet) of which, in what may be
called their completed state or ultimate form, we
possess impressions published in his lifetime ; to-
gether with four others (reckoning the Second and
Third Parts of He7try the Sixth to be the same with
the Two Parts of the Co7itentio7i) of which in an im-
mature and imperfect state we have such impres-
sions. Of one other, Othello^ we have also an
edition, printed indeed after the author's death, but
apparently from another manuscript than that used
for the First Folio. For the remaining eighteen
Plays our oldest authority is that edition. And the
only other sources for which any authority has been
claimed are, i. The Second, Third, and Fourth
Folios ; 2. A manuscript of the First Part and some
portions of the Second Part of Henry the Pourth^
which is believed to be nearly of Shakespeare's age,
and of which an impression has been edited by Mr.
Halliwell for the Shakespeare Society; 3. The
manuscript emendations, extending over all the
Plays, with the exception only of Pericles^ made in
a handwriting apparently of about the middle of the
seventeenth century, in a copy of the Second Folio
belonging to Mr. Collier.

None of these copies can claim to be regarded as
of absolute authority. Even the least carelessly
printed of the Qiiartos which appeared in Shake-
speare's lifetime are one and all deformed by too
many evident and universally admitted errors to
make it possible for us to believe that the proofs
underwent either his own revision or that of any
attentive editor or reader ; it may be doubted if in
any case the Play was even set up from the author's
manuscript. In many, or in most, cases we may
affirm with confidence that it certainly was not.

12 Prolegomena.

Some of these Quartos are evidently unauthorized
publications, hurriedly brought out, and founded
probably in the main on portions of the dialogue
fraudulently furnished by the actors, with the lacunae
filled up perhaps from notes taken by reporters in
the theatre.

~The First Folio (1623) is declared on the title
page to be printed " according to the true original
copies ; " and it is probable that for most of the Flays
either the author's autograph, or, at any rate, some
copy belonging to the theatre, was made use of. The
volume was put forth in the names of two of Shake-
speare's friends and fellow-actors, John Heminge
and Henrie Condell, who introduce what they style
" these trifles," the " remains " of their deceased
associate, by a Dedication to the Earls of Pembroke
and Montgomery, — who, they observe, had been
pleased to think the said trifles something, — and by
a Preface, in which, after confessing that it would
have been a thing to be wished '' that the author
himself had lived to have set forth and overseen his
own writings," they desire that they, his sui-viving
friends, may not be envied the oflice of their care
and pains in collecting and publishing them, and so
publishing them as that, whereas formerly, they con-
tinue, addressing the Reader, "you were abused
with divers stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed
and deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious
impostors that exposed them [that is, exposed them
for sale, or published them], even those are now
oflcred to your view cured and perfect of their limbs,
and all the rest absolute in their numbers,* as he

* This Latinism has no special reference, as has some-
times been supposed, to the verse ; it means merely perfect
in all their parts, or in all respects. So Sir Roger Twysden,

The Old Texts. 13

conceived them. Who, as he was a happy imitator
of nature, was a most gentle expresser of it : his mind
and hand went together ; and what he thought he
uttered with that easiness, that we have scarce re-
ceived from him a blot in his papers."

Here we have certainly, along with an emphatic
and undiscriminating condemnation of all the pre-
ceding impressions, a distinct declaration by the
publishers of the present volume that they had the
use of the author's manuscripts. It is the only men-
tion to be found anywhere of any of the Plays being
in existence in his own handwriting. No doubt can
reasonably be entertained that such of his papers as
were in possession of the Blackfriars Theatre, to
which Heminge and Condcll, like himself, belonged,
were placed at their disposal. And we may assume
that from these the edition of 1633 was set up, so far
as they went and could be made available.

But it would be a great straining of such premises
to conclude that the First Folio is to be accepted
throughout as anything like an infallible authority in
all cases for what Shakespeare actually wrote. That
would, for one thing, be to suppose an accuracy and
correctness of printing and editing of wliich there is
no example in the published popular literature of
that age, least of all in the drama, which was hardly
looked upon as belonging to literature, and in regard
to which the Press, when it was resorted to, was
always felt to be at best but an imperfect and unnat-
ural substitute for the proper mode of publication by
means of the Stage. The writer, it would seem to

in the Preface to his " Historije Anglicanae Scriptores De-
cern" (1652), speaking of the pains that had been taken to
insure the accuracy of the text, says, " Nihil unquam apud
nos, tanti saltern conaminis, . . . adeo omnibus numeris ab-
solutum prodiisse memini."

14 Prolegomena.

have been thought, could not well claim as a work
what called itself only a flay. Nor do the publish-
ers in the present instance make profession of having
bestowed any special care upon the editing of their
volume ; what they say (or more probably what
some regular author of the day, Ben Jonson, as it
has been conjectured, or another, had been got to
write in their names) is nothing more than the sort
of recommendation with which it was customary
for enlarged and improved editions to be introduced
to the world, and the only positive assertion which
it can be held to involve is, that the new impression
of the Plays had been set up, at least in part, from
the author's own manuscript. They lay claim, and
we may therefore be sure could lay claim, to nothing
further. They even admit, as we have seen, that it
would have been better if the author himself had
superintended the publication. Of correction of the
press there is not one word. That, we may be
pretty certain, was left merely to the printer. It is
not likely that the two players, who, with the excep-
tion of this Dedication and Preface, to which their
names are attached, are quite unknown in connec-
tion with literature, were at all qualified for such a
function, which is not one to be satisfactorily dis-
charged even by persons accustomed to writing for
the press without some practice.

But this is not all. The materials which Heminge
and Condell, or whoever may have taken charge of
the printing of the First Folio, had at their com-
mand, were very possibly insufficient to enable them
to produce a perfect text, although both their care
and their competency had been greater than they
probably were. In the first place, there is nothing
in what they say to entitle us to assume that they

The Old Texts.

15

had the author's own manuscript for more than some
of the Plays. But, further, we do not know what
may have been the state of such of his papers as
were in their hands. We are told, indeed, that they
were without a blot, and the fact is an interesting
one in reference to Shakespeare's habits of compo-
sition ; but it has no bearing upon the claims of the
text of this First Folio to be accounted a correct
representation of what he had written. He had
been in his grave for seven years ; the latest of the
original copies of the Plays were of that antiquity
at the least ; most of them must have been much
older. If, as is probable, they had been ever since
they were written in use at the theatres, it can hardly
have been that such of them as were not quite worn
out should not have suffered more or less of injury,
and have become illegible, or legible only with great
difficulty, in various passages. Nor may the hand-
writing, even when not partially obliterated, have
been very easy to decipher. The very rapidity with
which the poet's " thick-coming fancies " had been
committed to the paper may have made the record
of them, free from blots as it was, still one not to be
read running, or unlikely to trip a reader to whom it
was not familiar.

When we take up and examine the volume itself,
we find it to present the very characteristics which
these considerations would lead us to expect. As a
typographical production it is better executed than
the common run of the English popular printing of
that date. It is rather superior, for instance, in point
of appearance, and very decidedly in correctness, to
the Second Folio, produced nine years later. Never-
theless it is obviously, to the most cursory inspection,
very far from what would now be called even a tol-

1 6 Prolegomena.

erably well printed book. There is probably not a
page in it which is not disfigured by many minute
inaccuracies and irregularities, such as never appear
in modern printing. The punctuation is throughout
rude and negligent, even where it is not palpably
blundering. The most elementary proprieties of
the metrical arrangement are violated in innumer-
able passages. In some places the verse is printed
as plain prose ; elsewhere, prose is ignorantly and
ludicrously exhibited in the guise of verse. Indis-
putable and undisputed errors are of frequent occur-
rence, so gross that it is impossible they could have
been passed over, at any rate in such numbers, if the
proof-sheets had undergone any systematic revision
by a qualified person, however rapid. They were
probably read in the printing-office, with more or
less attention, when there was time, and often, when
there was any hurry or pressure, sent to press with
little or no examination. Everything betokens that
editor or editing of the volume, in any proper or
distinctive sense, there could have been none. The
only editor was manifestly the head workman in the
printing-office.

On closer inspection, we detect other indications.
In one instance, at least, we have actually the names
of the actors by whom the Play was performed pre-
fixed to their portions of the dialogue instead of those
of the dramatis personce. Mr. Knight, in noticing
this circumstance, observes that it shows very clearly
the text of the Play in which it occurs {Muck Ado
About NotJmtg) to have been taken from the play-
house copy, or what is called the prompter's book.*
But the fact is, that the scene in question is given in

* Library Shakspere, II. 366.

The Old Texts. 17

the same way in the previous Quarto edition of the
Play, published in 1600 ; so that here the printers of
the Folio had evidently no manuscript of any kind
in their hands, any more than they had any one over
them to prevent them from blindly following their
printed copy into the most transparent absurdities.
The Quarto, to the guidance of which they were
left, had evidently been set up from the prompter's
book, and the proof-sheets could not have been read
either by the author or by any other competent per-
son. In the case of how many more of the Plays
the Folio in like manner may have been printed
only from the previously published separate editions
we cannot be sure. But other errors, with which
the volume abounds, are evidence of something more
than this. In addition to a large number of doubtful
or disputed passages, there are many readings in it
which are either absolutely unintelligible, and there-
fore certainly corrupt, or, although not purely non-
sensical, yet clearly wrong, and at the same time
such as are hardly to be sufficiently accounted for as
the natural mistakes of the compositor. Sometimes
what is evidently the true word or expression has
given place to another having possibly more or less
resemblance to it in form, but none in signification ;
in other cases, what is indispensable to the sense, or
to the continuity and completeness of the dramatic
narrative, is altogether omitted. Such errors and
deficiencies can only be explained on the supposition
that the compositor had been left to depend upon a
manuscript which was imperfect, or which could
not be read. It is remarkable that deformities of
this kind are apt to be found accumulated at one
place ; there are as it were nests or eruptions of
them ; they run into constellations ; showing that the

1 8 Prolegomena.

manuscript had there got torn or soiled, and that the
printer had been obliged to supply what was wanting
in the best way that he could, by his own invention
or conjectural ingenuity.*

Of the other Folio editions, the Second, dated
1632, is the only one the new readings introduced in
which have ever been regarded as of any authority.
But nothing is known of the source from which
they may have been derived. The prevailing opin-
ion has been that they are nothing more than the con-
jectural emendations of the unknown editor. Some
of them, nevertheless, have been adopted in every
subsequent reprint.

The manuscript of Henry tJie Fourth (belonging
to Sir Edward Dering, Bart., of Surrenden in Kent)
is curious and interesting, as being certainly either
of Shakespeare's own age or close upon it, and as
the only known manuscript copy of any of the Plays
of nearly that antiquity. But it appears to have
been, for the greater part, merely transcribed from
some printed text, with such omissions and modifi-
cations as were deemed expedient in reducing the
two Plays to one.f The First Part of Henry

* I have discussed the question of the reliance to be placed
on the First Folio at greater length in an article on The
Text of Shakespeare, in the 40th No. of the North British
Review {for February, 1854). It is there shown, from an
examination of the First Act of Macbeth, that the number
of readings in the First Folio (including arrangements of
the verse and punctuation affecting the sense) which must
be admitted to be either clearly wrong, or in the highest de-
gree suspicious, probably amounts to not less than twenty on
an average per page, or about twenty thousand in the whole
volume; Most of them have been given up and abandoned
even by those of the modern editors who profess the most
absolute deference to the general authority of the text in
which they are found.

t I am informed by a friend, upon whose accuracy I can
rely, that a collation of a considerable portion of the MS.

The Old Texts. 19

tJie Fourth had been printed no fewer than five
times, and the Second Part also once, in the life-
time of the author. The Dering MS., however,
exhibits a few peculiar readings. . . .

It is only upon the supposition of the old text of the
Plays having been printed from a partially obliterated
or otherwise imperfectly legible manuscript, which, as
we see, meets and accounts for other facts and peculiar
appearances, while it is also so probable in itself,
that the remarkable collection of emendations in Mr.
Collier's copy of the Second Folio can, apparently,
be satisfactorily explained. The volume came into
Mr. Collier's hands in 1849, and was some time after-
wards discovered by him to contain a vast number of
alterations of the printed text inserted by the pen, in
a handwriting certainly of the seventeenth century,
and possibly of not much later date than the volume.
They extend over all the thirty-six Plays, and are cal-
culated to amount in all to at least twenty thousand.
Here is, then, a most elaborate revision — an expen-
diture of time and painstaking which surely could
only have been prompted and sustained by a strong
feeling in the annotator of admiration for his author,
and the most anxious and scrupulous regard for the
integrity of his text. Such motives would be very
inconsistent with the substitution generally for the
old words of anything that might merely strike him
as being possibly a preferable reading. The much
more probable presumption is that he followed some
guide. Such a labor is only to be naturally accounted
for by regarding it as that of the possessor of a valued
but very inaccurately printed book, who had obtained

with the Quarto of 1613 leaves no doubt of that being the
printed edition on which it was formed.

20 Prolegomena.

the means of collating it with and correcting it by a
trustworthy manuscript. And, when we come to
examine the new readings, we find everything in
sufficient correspondence with this hypothesis ; some
things almost, we may say, demonstrating it. Some
of the alterations are of a kind altogether transcend-
ing the compass of conjectural emendation, unless it
had taken the character of pure invention and fab-
rication. Such in particular are the entire lines
inserted in various passages of which we have not a
trace in the printed text. The number, too, of the
new readings which cannot but be allowed to be
either indisputable, or, at the least, in the highest
degree ingenious and plausible, is of itself almost
conclusive against our attributing them to nothing
better than conjecture. On the other hand, some of
his alterations are in all probability mistaken, some
of his new readings apparently inadmissible,* and

* Among such must be reckoned, undoubtedly, the altera-
tion, in Ladj^ Macbeth's passionate rejoinder {Macbeth,

What beast was't then,
That made you break this enterprise to me? —

of beast into boast. This is to convert the forcible and
characteristic not merely into tameness, but into no-mean-
ing; for there is no possible sense of the word boast which
will answer here. But in this case the corrector was prob-
ably left to mere conjecture in making his selection between
the two woi'ds ; for in the handwriting of the earlier part of
the seventeenth century the e and o are frequently absolutely
undistinguishable. In the specimen of the annotator's own
handwriting which Mr. Collier gives, the two e's of the
word briefely are as like t?'s as e's, and what Mr. Collier
reads bleeding might be equally well read blooding^ if that
were a word. Would Mr. Collier thus correct Tennyson's
(Edivin Morris), —

Were not his words delicious, I a beast

To take them as I did }

There cannot, I conceive, be a question that a celebrated

The Old Texts. 2I

many passages which there can hardly be a doubt
are corrupt are passed over by him without correc-
tion. All this becomes intelligible upon our hypoth-
esis. Working possibly upon the same manuscripts
(whether those of the author or not) from which the
printed text had been set up, he would with mere
deliberation, or by greater attention and skill, suc-
ceed in deciphering correctly much of the difficult
or faded writing which had baffled or been misread
by the printer. In other places, again, he was able
to make nothing of it, or it deceived him. In some
cases he may have ventured upon a conjecture, and
when he does that he may be as often wrong as
right. The manuscripts of which he had the use —
whether the author's original papers or only tran-
scripts from them — probably belonged to the
theatre ; and they might now be in a much worse
condition in some j^arts than when they were in the
hands of Hcminge and CondcU in 1623. The an-
notator would seem to have been connected with the
stage. The numerous and minute stage directions

passage in another Play has been seriously injured by
the same mistake which the annotator has made in the in-
stance under consideration. Is it not self-evident that the
speech of Polixenes in the Third Scene of the Fourth Act
of the Winter's Tale should run as follows? —

Nature is made better by no mean
But nature makes that mean. So ever that art,
Which you say adds to nature, is an art
That nature makes. . . .
The art itself is nature.

The "o'er that art" of the modern editions is ^^ over that
art" in the old copies. In other cases, again, the ever and
the evefi have evidently been confounded ; as in The Merry
Wives of Windsor, iv. 6, where Fenton describes Mrs. Page
as " even strong against" the marriage of her daughter with
Slender, "and firm for Doctor Caius." The error here, if it
be one, however, has apparently been left uncorrected by
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator.

22 Prolegomena.

which he has inserted look as if it might have been
for the use of some theatrical Company, and mainly
with a view to the proper representation of the
Plays, that his laborious task was undertaken.*
[For a concise account of the controversy which

* I do not remember having seen it noticed that the thea-
tres claimed a property in the Plays of Shakespeare, and
affected to be in possession of the authentic copies, down
to a comparatively recent date. The following Advertise-
ment stands prefixed to an edition of Pericles, in i2mo,
published in 1734, and professing to be "printed for J. Ton-
son, and the rest of the Proprietors : " — " Whereas R. Walk-
er, and his accomplices, have printed and published several
of Shakespeare's Plays, and, to screen their innumerable
errors, advertise that they are printed as they are acted;
and industriously report that the said Plays are printed from
copies made use of at the Theatres ; I therefore declare, in
justice to the Proprietors, whose right is basely invaded, as
well as in defence of myself, that no person ever had, directly
or indirectly, from me any such copy or copies ; neither
would I be accessary, on any account, to the imposing on
the public such useless, pirated, and maimed editions, as are
published by the said R. Walker. W. Chetwood, Prom;pter
to His Majesty's Cotn;pany of Comedians at the Theatre
Royal in Drury Lane." On the subject of this Chetwood
see Mai one's Inquiry into the Shakespeare Papers., pp. 350
— 352. In Tonson's similar editions of The History of Sir
yohfi Oldcastle and The Tragedy of Locrine (both declared
on the title page to be "By Mr. William Shakespear"), he
speaks in like manner of himself " and the other Proprietors
of the Copies of Shakespear's Plays," and complains that
"one Walker has proposed to pirate all Shakespear's Plays,
but through ignorance of what Plays were Shakespear's, did
in several Advertisements propose to print CEdipus King of
Thebes as one of Shakespear's Plays, and has since printed
Tate's King Lear instead of Shakespear's, and in that and
Hamlet has omitted almost one half of the genuine editions
printed by J. Tonson and the Proprietors." It would appear
from Nichols's Illustrations, II. 199, that Theobald, in the
Preface to the Second Edition of his Play of The Double
Falsehood, which he pretended was written by Shakespeare,
spoke of private property perhaps standing so far in his way
as to prevent him from putting out a complete edition of
Shakespeare's Works. The passage, which does not occur
in the first edition (1728), is retained in the third (1767).

Editors and Commentators. 23

the Collier Folio has caused, and a veiy satisfactory-
review of the results, see White's Shakespeare, vol.
i. pp. cclxxx-ccxcvi.]

IV. THE SHAKESPEARIAN EDITORS AND
COMMENTATORS.

The four Folios w^ere the only editions of the Plays
of Shakespeare brought out in the seventeenth cen-
tury ; and, except that the First, as we have seen,
has a Dedication and Preface signed by Heminge
and Condell, two actors belonging to the Blackfriars
Theatre, nothing is known, and scarcely anything
has been conjectured, as to what superintendence
any of them may have had in passing through the
press. The eighteenth century produced a long suc-
cession of editors: — Rowe, 1709 and 1714; Pope,
1735 and 1728 ; Theobald, 1733 and 1740; Hanmer,
1744; Warburton, 1747; Johnson, 1765; Steevens,
1766; Capell, 1768; Reed, 1785; Malone, 1790;
Rann, 1 786-1 794. The editions of Hanmer, John-
son, Steevens, Malone, and Reed were also all
reprinted once or oftener, for the most part with
enlargements ; and all the notes of the preceding
editions were at last incorporated in what is called
Reed's Second Edition of Johnson and Steevens,
which appeared, in twenty-one volumes 8vo, in
1803. This was followed in 1821 by what is now
the standard Variorum edition, also in twenty-one
volumes, which had been mostly prepared by Ma-
lone, and was completed and carried through the
press by his friend Mr. James Boswell. We have
since had the various editions of Mr. Knight and
Mr. Collier, from both of whom, in addition to other
original research and speculation, both bibliographi-

24 Prolegomena.

cal and critical, we have received the results of an
examination of the old texts more careful and ex-
tended than they had previously been subjected to.
New critical editions by the late Mr. Singer, by Mr.
Staunton, and by Mr. Dyce, have also appeared with-
in the last few years ; and there are in course of
publication the Cambridge edition by Mr. Clark and
Mr. Wright [completed Sept., 1866], and the mag-
nificent edition by Mr. Halliwell, which is to extend
to twenty volumes folio. [Of American editions
may be mentioned that by the Hon. Gulian C. Ver-
planck, three vols., 1847 5 ^^^^* ^Y R^v. Henry N.
Hudson, eleven vols., 1855 ; and that by Mr. Rich-
ard Grant White, twelve vols., 1857-1865.]

The list of commentators, however, includes sev-
eral other names besides those of the editors of the ,
entire collection of Plays ; in particular, Upto7i^ in
" Critical Observations," 1746; Dr. Zachary Grey.,
in '' Critical, Historical, and Explanatory Notes,"
1755 ; Heathy in "A Revisal of Shakespear's Text,"
1765 ; Kenrick., in a " Review of Johnson's Edition,"
1765, and " Defence of Review," 1766 ; Tyrwhitt., in
" Observations and Conjectures," 1766 ; Dr. Richard
Partner., in '' Essay on the Leai'ning of Shake-
speare," 1 767 ; Charles yennens^ in annotated edi-
tions of "King Lear," 1770, — "Othello," 1773, —
" Hamlet," 1773, — " Macbeth," 1773, — and "Julius
C^sar," 1774 ; yohn Monck Mason., in " Comments
on the Last Edition of Shakespeare's Plays," 1785,
and " Further Observations," 1798; A. Beckett., in
"A Concordance to Shakespeare, to which are added
three hundred Notes and Illustrations," 1787 ; Ritson
in [" Remarks Critical and Illustrative on the Text
and Notes of the last* Edition of Shakespeare," 1783],

* Steevens's.

y

The Modern Texts. 25

«'The Quip Modest" [1788], and "Cursory Criti-
cisms," 1792 ; Whiter^ in " A Specimen of a Com-
mentary," 1794; George Chalmers^ in "Apology for
the Believers in the Shakespearian Papers," 1797, and
" Supplemental Apology," 1799; Douce^ in "Illus-
trations of Shakespeare and of Ancient Manners,"
1807 ; Reverend Joseph Hunter^ in " Illustra-
tions of the Life, Studies, and Writings of Shake-
speare," 1844 » ^'^^ Reverend Alexander Dyce^ in
" Remarks on Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knight's Edi-
tions," 1844, and " A Few Notes on Shakespeare,"
1853. To these names and titles may be added the
Reverend Samuel Ayscough! s " Index to the Re-
markable Passages and Words made use of by
Shakespeare," 1790 ; " A Complete Verbal Index to
the Plays of Shal^espeare," in two vols., by Francis
Twzss^ Esq.^ 1805 ; and Mrs, Cowden Clarke's
" Complete Concordance to Shakspere," 1847. ■^^"
nally, there may be mentioned Archdeacon Narcs^s
" Glossary of Words, etc., thought to require Illus-
ti'ation in Shakespeare and his Contemporaries,"
1822. [Of this valuable work a new edition with
many additions both of words and examples, by J.
O. Halliwell and Thos. Wright, appeared in 1859.]

V. THE MODERN SHAKESPEARIAN TEXTS.

No modern editor has reprinted the Plays of Shake-
speare exactly as they stand in any of the old Folios
or.Qiiartos. Neither the spelling, nor the punctua-
tion, nor the words of any ancient copy have been
retained unaltered, even with the correction of obvi-
ous errors of the Press. It has been universally
admitted by the course that has been followed that
a genuine text is not to be obtained without more or

/

26 Prolegomena.

less of conjectural emendation : the only difference
has been as to the extent to which it should be car-
ried. The most recent texts, however, beginning
with that of Malone, and more especially those of
Mr. Knight and of Mr. Collier (in his eight volume
edition), have been formed upon the principle of
adhering to the original copies as closely as possible ;
and they have given us back many old readings which
had been rejected by preceding editors. There has
been some difference of opinion among editors of
the modern school in regard to whether the prefer-
ence should be given in certain cases to the First
Folio or to some previous Qiiarto impression of the
Play produced in the lifetime of the author ; and
Steevens latterly, in opposition to Malone, who had
originally been his coadjutor, set up the doctrine that
the Second Folio was a safer guide than the First.
This heresy, however, has probably now been aban-
doned by everybody.

But, besides the correction of what are believed to
be errors of the Press in the old copies, the text of
Shakespeare has been subjected to certain modifica-
tions in all the modern reprints : —

1. The spelling has been reduced to the modern
standard. The original spelling is certainly no part
of the composition. There is no reason to believe
that it is even Shakespeare's own spelling. In all
probability it is merely that of the person who set up
the types. Spenser may be suspected to have had
some peculiar notions upon the subject of orthogra-
phy ; but, apparently, it was not a matter about
which Shakespeare troubled himself. In departing
from the original editions here, therefore, we lose
nothing that is really his.

2. The actual form of the word in certain cases

The Modern Texts. 27

has been modernized. This deviation is not so
clearly defensible upon principle, but the change is
so slight, and the convenience and advantage so con-
siderable, that it may fairly be held to be justifiable
nevertheless on the ground of expediency. The case
of most frequent occurrence is that of the w^ord
than^ which with Shakespeare, as generally with his
contemporaries and predecessors, is always then.
"Greater then a king" would be intolerable to the
modern ear. Then standing in this position is there-
fore quietly converted by all the modern editors into
our modern than. Another form which was un-
questionably part of the regular phraseology and
grammar of his day is what is sometimes described
as the conjunction of a plural nominative with a
singular verb, but is really only a peculiar mode of
inflecting the verb, by which the plural is left undis-
tinguished from the singular. Shakespeare and his
contemporaries, although they more usually said, as
we do, " words sometimes give offence," held them-
selves entitled to say also, if they chose, " words
sometimes gives offence." But here again so much
offence would be given by the antiquated phraseolo-
gy to the modern ear, accustomed to such an appar-
ent violation of concord only from the most illiterate
lips, that the detrimental s has been always sup-
pressed in the modern editions, except only in a few
instances in which it happens to occur as an indis-
pensable element of the rhyme — as when Macbeth^
in his soliloquy before going in to murder the sleep-
ing King (ii. i), says,—

Whiles I threat he lives :
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives ;

or, as when Romeo says to Friar Lawrence (ii. 3),

28 Prolegomena.

Both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies.

A few contractions also, such as upon^t^ orHs head,
etc., which have now become too vulgarized for
composition of any elevation, are usually neglected
in constructing the modern text, and without any
appreciable injury to its integrity.

3. In some few cases the editors have gone the
length of changing even the word which Shake-
speare may very possibly have written, or which
may probably have stood in the manuscript put into
the hands of the original printers, when it has been
held to be palpably or incontrovertibly wrong. In
Julius Ccesar^ for instance (ii. i), they have upon
this principle changed " the Jirst of March " into
" the zdes of March" (149), and afterwards ^^ fifteen
days" into ^''fourteen days" (154). It is evident,
however, that alterations of this kind ought to be
very cautiously made.

VI. THE MECHANISM OF ENGLISH VERSE, AND
THE PROSODY OF THE PLAYS OF SHAKE-
SPEARE.

The mechanism of verse is a thing altogether dis-
tinct from the music of verse. The one is matter
of rule, the other of taste and feeling. No rules
can be given for the production of music, or of the
musical, any more than for the production of poetry,
or the poetical.

The law of the mechanical construction of verse
is common to verse of every degree of musical qual-
ity,— to the roughest or harshest (provided it be
verse at all), as well as to the smoothest and sweet-
est. Music is not an absolute necessity of verse.
There are cases in which it is not even an excellence

The Verse. 29

or desirable ingredient. Verse is sometimes the
more effective for being unmusical. The mechani-
cal law or form is universally indispensable. It is
tliat w^hich constitutes the verse. It may be regarded
as the substance ; musical character, as the accident
or ornament.

In every language the principle of the law of
verse undoubtedly lies deep in the nature of the lan-
guage. In all modern European languages, at least,
it is dependent upon the system of accentuation es-
tablished in the language, and would probably be
found to be modified in each case according to the
peculiarities of the accentual system. In so far as
regards these languages, verse may be defined to
consist in a certain arrangement of accented and
unaccented syllables.

The Plays of Shakespeare are all, with the excep-
tion only of occasional couplets, in unrhymed or
what is called Blank verse. This form of verse was
first exemplified in English in a translation of the
Fourth Book of the -^neid by the unfortunate Lord
Surrey, who was executed in 1547 ; it was first em-
ployed in dramatic writing by Thomas Sackville
(afterwards Lord Buckhurst and Earl of Dorset) in
his Gorboduc (or JRe?'rcx and Porrcx)^ produced in
1561 ; and, although not much used in poetical com-
positions of any other kind, either translated or origi-
nal, till Milton brought it into reputation by his
Paradise Lost in the latter part of the following
century, it had come to be the established or cus-
tomary verse for both tragedy and comedy before
Shakespeare began to w^ite for the stage. Our only
legitimate English Blank verse is that commonly
called the Heroic, consisting normally in a succes-
sion of five feet of two syllables each, with the

30 Prolegomena.

pressure of the voice, or accent, on the latter of the
two, or, in other words, on the second, fourth, sixth,
eighth, and tenth syllables of each line. After the
tenth syllable, an unaccented syllable, or even two,
may be added without any prosodical effect. The
rhythm is completed with the tenth syllable, and
what follows is only as it were a slight reverberation
or echo.

But this general statement is subject to certain im-
portant modifications : —

1. In any of the feet an accent on the first syllable
may be substituted for one on the second, providing
it be not done in two adjoining feet. This transfer-
ence of the accent is more unusual in certain of the
feet than in others — most of all in the fifth, next to
that in the second ; — but is not in any foot a viola-
tion of the law of the verse, or what is properly to
be called a license.

2. It is a universal law of English verse, that any
syllable whatever, falling in the place of the accent
either immediately before or immediately after a foot
of which one of the syllables is truly accented, will
be accounted to be accented for the purposes of the
verse. The -my of enemy ^ for instance, or the in- of
intercept^ is always so accounted in heroic verse, in
virtue of the true accent upon en- and upon -cepf ;
but in dactylic or anapjEstic verse, these syllables,
although pronounced precisely in the same manner,
are always held to be unaccented, the law of those
kinds of verse not requiring another accent within
the distance at which the -7ny stands removed from
the en-^ or the in- from the -cept. This, in so far as
regards the heroic line, is equivalent to saying that
every alternate foot may be without a really accented
syllable in it at all. Or the line might be defined as

The Verse. 31

consisting, not of five feet of two syllables each, with
one of them accented, but of two and a half feet,
each of four syllables, with at least one of the four
accented ; the half foot, which need not have an
accent, occurring sometimes at the beginning of the
line, sometimes in the middle, sometimes at the end.
Practically, the effect is, that anywhere in the line
we may have a sequence of three syllables (none of
them being superfluous) without any accent ; and
that there is no word in the language (such as Hor-
ace was plagued with in Latin) quod versu dicere
non est^ — none, whether proper name or whatever
else, which the verse does not readily admit.

3. It is by no means necessary (though it is com-
monly stated or assumed to be so) that the syllables
alternating with the accented ones should be unac-
cented. Any or aj] of them may be accented also.

4. Further, in any of the places which may be
occupied by an unaccented syllable it is scarcely
an irregularity to introduce two or even more such
unaccented syllables. The effect may be compared
to the prolongation or dispersion of a note in music
by what is called a shake. Of course, such a con-
struction of verse is to be resorted to sparingly and
only upon special grounds or occasions ; employed
habitually, or very frequently, it crowds and cumbers
the rhythm, and gives it a quivering and feeble char-
acter. But it can nowhere be said to be illegiti-
mate,— although, in ordinary circumstances, it may
have a less agreeable effect in some places of the line
than in others.

These four modifications of its normal structure
are what, along with the artistic distribution of the
pauses and cadences, principally give its variety,
freedom, and life to our Heroic verse. They are

32 Prolegomena.

what the intermixture of dactyls and spondees is to
the Greek or Latin Hexameter. They are none of
them of the nature of what is properly denominated
a poetic license, which is not a modification but a
violation of the rule, permissible only upon rare
occasions, and altogether anarchical and destructive
when too frequently committed. The first three of our
four modifications are taken advantage of habitually
and incessantly by every writer of verse in the lan-
guage ; and the fourth, to a greater or less extent, at
least by nearly all our blank verse poets.

So much cannot be said for another form of verse
(if it is to be so called) which has also been sup-
posed to be found in Shakespeare ; that, namely, in
which a line, evidently perfect both at the beginning
and the end, wants a syllable in the middle. Such,
for instance, is the well-known line in Measure for
Measure^ ii. 2, as it stands in the First Folio, —
Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man.

Here, it will be observed, we have not a hemistich
(by which we mean any portion of a verse per-
fect so far as it extends, whether it be the com-
mencing or concluding portion), but something
which professes to be a complete verse. The pres-
ent is not merely a truncated line of nine syllables,
or one where the defect consists in the want of either
the first or the last syllable ; the defect here would
not be cured by any addition to either the beginning
or the end of the line ; the syllable that is wanting is
in the middle.

The existing text of the Plays presents us with a
considerable number of verses of this description.
In many of these, in all probability, the text is cor-
rupt; the wanting syllable, not being absolutely
indispensable to the sense, has been dropped out

The Verse. 33

in the copying or setting up by some one (a com-
mon case) not much alive to the demands of the
prosody. The only other solution of the difficulty
that has been offered is, that we have a substitute
for the omitted syllable in a fause by which the
reading of the line is to be broken. This notion
appears to have received the sanction of Coleridge.
But I cannot think that he had fully considered the
matter. It is certain that in no verse of Coleridge's
own does any mere pause ever perform the function
which would thus be assigned to it. Nor is any such
principle recognized in any other English verse,
modern or ancient, of which we have a text that
can be absolutely relied upon. It is needless to
observe, that both in Shakespeare and in all our
other writers of verse, we have abundance of lines
broken by pauses of all lengths without any such
effect being thereby produced as is here assumed.
If the pause be really equivalent to a syllable, how
happens it that it is not so in every case ? But that
it should be so in any case is a doctrine to which I
should have the greatest difficulty in reconciling
myself. How is it possible, by any length of pause,
to bring anything like rhythm out of the above quoted
words, —

Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man ?

If this be verse, there is nothing tliat may not be so
designated.

I should be inclined to say, that, wherever there
seems to be no reason for suspecting the loss of a
syllable, we ought in a case of this sort to regard the
words as making not one line, but two hemistichs,
or truncated lines. Thus, the passage in Measure
for Measure would stand —

3

34 Prolegomena.

Merciful heaven !

Thou rather, with thj sharp and sulphurous bolt,

Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak

Than the soft myrtle.

But man, proud man,

Dress'd in a little brief authority : etc.

This is nothing more than what has been done with
the words " Merciful heaven ! " which all the mod-
ern editors print as a hemistich, but which both in
the First Folio and in all the others are made to
form a line with the words that immediately pre-
cede ; thus : —

Nothing but thunder : Mercifull heauen.

What mainly gives its character to the English
Heroic line is its being poised upon the tenth syl-
lable. It is by this, as well as by the number of feet,
that its rhythm or musical flow is distinguished, for
instance, from that of what is called the Alexan-
drine, or line of twelve syllables, the characteristic
of which is that the pressm*e is upon the sixth and
the twelfth. Without this twelve sjdlables will no
more make an Alexandrine than they will a common
Heroic line. There are in fact many Heroic lines
consisting of twelve syllables, but still, nevertheless,
resting upon the tenth.

It follows that generally in this kind of verse the
tenth syllable will be strongly accented. That is the
normal form of the line. When there is rhyme, the
consonance is always in the tenth syllable. As, how-
ever, in dancing (which is a kind of visible verse, —
the poetry of motion, as it has been called), or in
architecture (which is another kind, and may be
styled the visible poetry of repose), the pressure
upon that which really sustains is sometimes sought
to be concealed, or converted into the semblance of

The Verse. 35

its opposite, and the limb or the pillar made to
appear to be rather drawn towards the ground than
resting upon it, so in word-poetry too we have occa-
sionally the exhibition of a similar feat. Instead of
a strongly accented syllable, one taking only a very
slight accent, or none at all, is made to fill the tenth
place. One form, indeed, of this peculiarity of sti-uc-
ture is extremely common, and is resorted to by all
our poets as often for mere convenience as for any
higher pui-pose, that, namely, in which the weak
tenth syllable is the termination of a word of which
the syllable having the accent has already done duty
in its proper place in the preceding foot. It is in
this vsray that, both in our blank and in our rhymed
verse, the large classes of words ending in -ing^
-ness^ -ment^ -y^ etc., and accented on the antepenul-
timate, are made available in concluding so many
lines. The same thing happens when we have at
the end of the line a short or unaccented monosylla-
ble which either coalesces like an enclitic with the
preceding word, or at least belongs to the same
clause of the expression ; as in Beaumont and
Fletcher*s

By my dear father's soul, you stir not, Sir I

{Humorous Lieutenant^ it. 2) ;
or,

And yields all thanks to me for that dear care
Which I was bound to have in training you.

{King- and No Kinff, ii.)

But another case is more remarkable.

This is when the weak or unaccented tenth syl-
lable is neither the final syllable of a word the ac-
cented syllable of which has already done service in
the preceding foot, nor in any way a part of the
came clause of the expression to which that foot

$6 Prolegomena.

belongs, but a separate monosyllabic word, fre-
quently one, such as and, but, if, or, of, even the,
or a, or an, among the slightest and most rapidly
uttered in the language, and belonging syntactically
and in natural utterance to the succeeding line. We
may be said to have the strongest or most illustrious
exemplifications of this mode of versifying in the

Labitur ripa, Jove non probante, u-
xorius amnis,
and other similar exhibitions of " linked sweetness "
in Horace, Pindar, and the Greek dramatists in their
choral passages (if we may accept the common ar-
rangement),— to say nothing of sundry modern
imitations in the same bold style, even in our own
vernacular, which need not be quoted. Such a con-
struction of verse, however, when it does not go the
length of actually cutting a word in two, is in perfect
accordance with the principles of our English pro-
sodical system ; for, besides that the and, or, of, or
2/* is not really a slighter syllable than the termination
-ty or -ly, for instance, which is so frequently found
in the same position, these and other similar mono-
syllables are constantly recognized, under the second
of the above laws of modification, as virtually ac-
cented for the purposes of the verse in other places
of the line. Still when a syllable so slight meets us
in the place where the normal, natural, and custom-
ar}' rhythm demands the greatest pressure, the effect
is always somewhat startling. This unexpectedness
of effect, indeed, may be regarded as in many cases
the end aimed at, and that which prompts or recom-
mends the construction in question. And it does
undoubtedly produce a certain variety and liveliness.
It is fittest, therefore, for the lighter kinds of poetry.
It is only there that it can, without impropriety, be

The Verse. 37

made a characteristic of the verse. It partakes too
much of the nature of a trick or a deception to be
employed except sparingly in poetry of the manliest
or most massive order. Yet there too it may be in-
troduced now and then with the happiest effect, more
especially in the drama, where variety and vivacity
of style are so much more requisite than rhythmical
fulness or roundness, and the form of dialogue,
always demanding a natural ease and freedom, will
justify even irregularities and audacities of expression
which might be rejected by the more stately march
of epic composition. It has something of the same
bounding life which Ulysses describes Diomed as
showing in "the manner of his gait:" —

He rises on the toe : that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

Two things are observable with regard to Shake-
speare's employment of this peculiar construction
of verse : —

I. It will be found, upon an examination of his
Plays, that there are some of them in which it occurs
very rarely, or perhaps scarcely at all, and others in
which it is abundant. It was certainly a habit of
writing which grew upon him after he once gave in
to it. Among the Plays in which there is little or
none of it are some of those known to be amongst
his earliest ; and some that were undoubtedly the
product of the latest period of his life are among
those that have the most of it. It is probable that
the different stages in the frequency with which it is
indulged in correspond generally to the order of suc-
cession in which the Plays were written. A certain
progress of style may be traced, more or less dis-
tinctly, in every writer ; and there is no point of
style which more nvarks a poetic writer than the

38 Prolegomena.

character of his versification. It is this, for instance,
which furnishes us with the most conclusive or at
least the clearest evidence that the Play of King
Henry the Eighth cannot have been written through-
out by Shakespeare. It is a point of style which
admits of precise appreciation to a degree much
beyond most others ; and there is no other single
indication which can be compared with it as an
element in determining the chronology of the Plays.
It is therefore extremely difficult to believe that the
three Roman plays, Julius CcEsar^ Antony and
Cleopatra^ and Coriolanus^ can all belong to the
same period (Malone assigns them severally to the
years 1607, 1608, and 1610), seeing that the second
and third are among the Plays in which verses hav-
ing in the tenth place an unemphatic monosyllable
of the kind in question are of most frequent occur-
rence, while the only instances of anything of the
sort in the first are, I believe, the following: —

54. I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

54. And Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body.

54. A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world.

55. I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heaped on Caesar.

155. All the interim is

Like a phantasma.
306. Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
354. And am moreover suitor, that I may

Produce his body to the market-place.
357. And that we are contented Caesar shall

Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.

The Verse. 39

405. But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world.

493. Or here, or at ,

The Capitol.

Not only does so comparatively rare an indulgence
in it show that the habit of this kind of versification
was as yet not fully formed, but in one only of these
ten instances have we it carried nearly so far as it
repeatedly is in some other Plays : be^ and is^ and
should^ and may^ and shall^ and TnigJit^ and are^ all
verbs, though certainly not emphatic, will yet any
of them allow the voice to rest upon it with a con-
siderably stronger pressure than such lightest and
slightest of " winged words " as and^ or^ but^ if^ that
(the relative or conjunction), ivho^ wJiich^ than.^ as^
of., to., with., for., etc. The only decided or true
and perfect instance of the peculiarity is the last in
the list.

2. In some of the Plays at least the prosody of
many of the verses constructed upon the principle
under consideration has been misconceived by every
editor, including the most recent. Let us take, for
example, the play of Coriolanus., in which, as has
just been observed, such verses are very numerous.
Here, in the first place, we have a good many in-
stances in which the versification is correctly exhib-
ited in the First Folio, and, of course, as might be
expected, in all subsequent editions ; such as —

Only in strokes, but with thy grim looks and

The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds. — i. 4.

I got them in my country's service, when

Some certain of your brethren roared and ran. — ii. 3.

The thwartings of your dispositions, if

You had not showed them how you were disposed. — iii. 2.

Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and

My friends of noble touch, when I am forth. — iv. 2.

40 Prolegomena.

Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me. — iv. 5.

Mistake me not, to save my life ; for if

I had feared death, of all the men i' the world. — iv. 5.

Had we no quarrel else * to Rome, but that

Thou art thence banished, we would muster all. — iv. 5.

You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and

To melt the city leads upon your pates. — iv. 6.

Your temples burned in their cement ; and

Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined. — iv. 6.

Upon the voice of occupation, and
The breath of garlic-eaters. — iv. 6.

I do not know what witchcraft's in him ; but

Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat. — iv. 7.

Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
Your gates against my force. — v. 3.

As if Olympus to a molehill should
In supplication nod. — v. 3.

Hath an aspect of intercession, which,
Great Nature cries. Deny not. — v. 3.

Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark ; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private. — v. 3.

That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
To a mother's part belongs. — v. 3.

And hale him up and down ; all swearing, if

The Roman ladies bring not comfort home. — v. 4.

* The reading of all the copies is "No other quarrel
else ; " but it is evident that other is merely the author's first
word, which he must be supposed to have intended to strike
out, if he did not actually do so, when he resolved to sub-
stitute else. The prosody and the sense agree in admonish-
ing us that both words cannot stand. So in Antony and
Cleopatra, iv. 10, in the line " To the young Roman boy she
hath sold me, and I fall; '^ yomig is evidently only the word
first intended to be used, and never could be meant to be
retained after the expression Roman boy was adopted.
Another case of the same kind is unquestionably that of
the word old in the line {As Tou Like It, iv. 3), — .

Under an (old) oak, whose boughs were mossed with age.

The Verse. 41

The city posts by this hath entered, and

Intends to appear before the people, hoping. — v. 5.

I seemed his follower, not partner ; and
He waged me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary. — v. 5.

At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies. — v. 5.

With our own charge ; making a treaty where
There was a yielding. — v. 5.

That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. — v. 5.

Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk. — v. 5.

Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one. — v. 5.

These instances are abundantly sufficient to prove
the prevalence in the Play of the peculiarity under
consideration, and also its recognition, whether con-
sciously and deliberately or othei'wise does not mat-
ter, by the editors. But further, we have also some
instances in which the editors most attached to the
original printed text have ventured to go the length
of rearranging the verse upon this principle where it
stands otherwise in the First Folio. Such are the
following : —

Commit the war of white and damask in
Their nicely gauded cheeks. — ii. i.

Here the Folio includes their in the first line.

A kinder value of the people than
He hath hereto prized them at. — ii. 2.

The Folio gives this as prose.

To allay my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons. — v. 3.

The Folio gives from "My rages" inclusive as a
line.

42 Prolegomena.

After this it is surely very strange to find in our
modern editions such manifest and gross misconcep-
tions of the versification as the following arrange-
ments exhibit : —

My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius,

And — By deed-achieving honour duly named. — ii. i.

I have seen the dumb men throng to see him,
And — The blind to hear him speak. — ii. i.
Have made them mutes, silenced their pleaders,
And — Dispropertied their freedoms. — ii. i.

Having determined of the Volsces,

And — To send for Titus Lartius. — ii. 2.

To gratify his noble service, that hath
Thus — Stood for his country. — ii. 2.

That valour is the chiefest virtue.

And — Most dignifies the haver. — ii. 2.

Pray you, go fit you to the custom ;

And — Take to you, as your predecessors have. — ii. 2.

I have seen and heard of; for your voices [voice. — ii.3.
Have — Done many things, some less, some more ; your

Endue you with the people's voice :
Remains — That, in the official marks invested,
You — Anon do meet the senate. — ii. 3.
Would think upon you for your voices.
And — Translate his malice towards you into love. — ii. 3.

The apprehension of his present portance,

Which — Most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion. — ii. 3.

For the mutable, rank-scented many,
Let them — Regard me as I do not flatter,
And — Therein behold themselves. — iii. i.

That would depopulate the city.
And — Be every man himself. — iii. i.

In all these instances the w^ords w^hich I have
separated from those that followed them by a dash
belong to the preceding line ; and, nearly every time
that the first of the two lines is thus put out of joint,
the rhythm of both is ruined.

The Verse. ~ 43

The modern editor who has shown the most dis-
position to tamper with the old text in the matter of
the versification is Steevens. The metrical arrange-
ment of the First Folio is undoubtedly wrong in
thousands of instances, and it is very evident that the
conception which the persons by whom the printing
was superintended had of verse was extremely im-
perfect and confused. They would be just as likely
to go wrong as right whenever any intricacy or indis-
tinctness in the manuscript threw them upon their
own resources of knowledge and critical sagacity.
But Steevens set about the work of correction on
false principles. Nothing else would satisfy him
than to reduce the prosody of the natural dramatic
blank verse of Shakespeare, the characteristic prod-
uct of the sixteenth century, to the standard of the
trim rhyming couplets into which Pope shaped his
polished epigrams in the eighteenth. It is a mistake,
however, to speak of Steevens as having no ear for
verse. His ear was a practised and correct enough
one, only that it had been trained in a narrow school.
Malone, on the other hand, had no notion whatever
of verse beyond what he could obtain by counting
the syllables on his fingers. Everything else but the
mere number of the syllables went with him for
nothing. This is demonstrated by all that he has
written on the subject. And, curiously enough, Mr.
James Boswell, the associate of his labors, appears
to have been endowed with nearly an equal share of
the same singular insensibility.

44 Prolegomena.

VII. SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C^SAR.

Shakespeare's yulius Ccesar was first printed,
as far as is known, in the First Folio collection of
his Plays, published in 1633 ; it stands there between
Tzmon of Athens and Macbeth^ filing, in the divis-
ion of the volume which begins with Coriolanus
and extends to the end, being that occupied with the
Tragedies^ — which is preceded by those contain-
ing the Comedies and the Histories^ — the double-
columned pages from 109 to 130 inclusive.* Here,
at the beginning and over each page, it is entitled
'' The Tragedie of Julius Caesar ; " but in the Cata-
logue at the beginning of the volume it is entered as
" The Life and Death of Julius CaBsar ; " other en-
tries in the list being, among the Histories^ " The
Life and Death of King John," " The Life and Death
of Richard the Third," " The Life of King Henry
the Eighth," and, among the Tragedies^ " The
Tragedy of Coriolanus," " The Tragedy of Mac-
beth," " The Tragedy of Hamlet," " King Lear,"
" Othello, the Moore of Venice." In the Second
Folio (1632), where this series of pages includes
Troilus and Cressida, " The Tragedy of Julius
Caesar," as it is entered both in the running title and
in the Catalogue, extends from page 129 to 150
inclusive. In both editions the Play is divided into
Acts, but not into Scenes ; although the First Act is
headed in both "Actus Primus. Scoena Prima."
There is no list in either edition of the Dramatis
Personce^ as there is with several others of the Plays.

Malone, in his " Attempt to ascertain the Order
in which the Plays of Shakespeare were written,"

* There is a break in the pagination from loi to 108 in-
clusive.

The Julius C^sar. 45

assigning Hamlet to the year 1600, Othello to 1604,
Lear to 1605, Macbeth to 1606, Antony and Cleo*
patra to 1608, and Coriolanus to 1610, fixes upon
the year 1607 as the date of the composition of
yulius Ccesar. But nothing can be more inconclu-
sive than the grounds upon which he comes to this
conchision. His reasoning is principally, or, indeed,
we may say almost wholly, founded upon the fact of
a rhyming play on the same subject by William
Alexander, afterwards Earl of Sterline, or Stirling,
having been first printed at London in that year (it
had been originally printed in Scotland three years
before), which he thinks may be presumed to have
preceded Shakespeare's. " Shakespeare, we know,"
he observes, in his disquisition on the Chronological
Order ( Variorum edition, II. 445-451), " formed at
least twelve plays on fables that had been unsuccess-
fully managed by other poets ; but no contemporary
writer was daring enough to enter the lists with him
in his lifetime, or to model into a drama a subject
which had already employed his pen ; and it is not
likely that Lord Sterline, who was then a very young
man, and had scarcely unlearned the Scotch idiom,
sholild have been more hardy than any other poet of
that age.'* Elsewhere (XII. 2) he says, " In the two
Plays many parallel passages are found, which might
perhaps have proceeded onl}' from the two authors
drawing from the same source. However, there are
some reasons for thinking the coincidence more than
accidental." The only additional reason he gives is
that " a passage in The Tempest (' The cloud-
capped towers,' etc.) seems to have been copied
from one in Darius^ another Play of Lord Sterline's,
printed at Edinburgh in 1603." Upon the subject
of these alleged imitations by Shakespeare of one

46 Prolegomena.

of the most uninspired of his contemporaries, see
Mr. Knight's article on this William Alexander in
the " Biographical Dictionary of the Society for the
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge," Vol. II. pp. 4-7.
They may safely be pronounced to be one and all
purely imaginary. The passage in Darius (which
Play is also in rhyme), it may be noted, was removed
by Lord Stirling from his Play when he reprinted it
in a revised form in 1637. This would have been a
singularly self-denying course for the noble versifier
to have taken if the notion that it had been either
plagiarized or imitated by the great English drama-
tist had ever crossed his mind. The resemblance, in
fact, is no greater than would be almost sure to
occur in the case of any two writers in verse, how-
ever widely remote in point of genius, taking up the
same thought, which, like the one we have here, is in
itself almost one of the commonplaces of poetical or
rhetorical declamation, however pre-eminently it has
been arrayed by Shakespeare in all the "pride,
pomp, and circumstance of glorious words."

A Latin Play upon the subject of the death of
Caesar — " Epilogus Caesaris Interfecti " — the pro-
duction of a Dr. Richard Eedes, whom Mere^ in
his Wifs Coinmonwealth^ published in 1598, men-
tions as one of the best tragic writers of the time,
appears to have been brought out at Christ's Church,
Oxford, in 1582. And there is also an anonymous
English Play of Shakespeare's age, entitled " The
Tragedy of Caesar and Pompey, or Csesar's Re-
venge," of which two editions have come down to
us, one bearing the date of 1607 (the same year in
which Alexander's jfulius Ccesar was printed at
London), the other without date, but apparently
earlier. This Play is often confounded with another

The Julius C^sar. 47

of the same title by George Chapman, which, how-
ever, was not printed till 1631. The anonymous
Play appears to have been first produced in 1594.
See Henslowe^s Diary, by Collier, p. 44. Malone
observes that "in the running title it is called The
Tragedy of yulius Ccesar ; perhaps the better to
impose it on the public for the performance of
Shakespeare." It is not pretended, however, that it
and Shakespeare's Play have anything in common.*
Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar is alluded to as one
of the most popular of his Plays, by Leonard
Digges (a younger brother of Sir Dudley, the pop-
ular parliament man in the time of Charles I., and
afterwards Master of the Rolls), in a copy of verses
prefixed to the First Folio : —

Nor shall I e'er believe or think thee dead, . . .

. . . till I hear a scene more nobly take

Than when thy half-sword parlying Romans spake.

In the Prologue, also, to Beaumont and Fletcher's
tragedy entitled The liaise One,-\ the subject of
which is the loves of Caesar and Cleopatra in Egypt,
the authors vindicate themselves from the charge of

* From a comedy called Every Woman in her Humour,
printed in 1609, Malone quotes a passage from which he
infers that there was an ancient droll or puppet-show on the
subject of Julius Csesar : — "I have seen the City of Nineveh
and Julius Caesar acted by mammets." " I formerly sup-
posed," Malone adds, "that this droll was formed on the
play before us; but have lately observed that it is mentioned
with other motions (Jonas, Ninevie, and the Destruction of
Jerusalem) in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, printed in 1605,
and was probably of a much older date." {Chronological
Order, 449.) But it is not so clear that the mention of the
motion, or puppet-show, in 1605 would make it impossible
that it should have been posterior to Shakespeare's Play.

t It has been disputed whether by The False One we are
to understand Caesar or another character in the Play, the
villain Septimius. A friend suggests that it may be Cleo-
patra that is intended to be so designated.

48 Prolegomena.

having taken up the same ground with Shakespeare

in the present Play : —

Sure to tell
Of Ceesar's amorous heats, and how he fell
r the Capitol, can never be the same
To the judicious.

But in what year The False One was brought
out is not known. It certainly was not before 1608
or 1609.

Finally, it has been remarked that the quarrel
scene between Brutus and Cassius, in Shakespeare's
Play, has evidently formed the model for a similar
one between the two friends Melantius and Amintor,
in the Third Act of Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's
Tragedy. All that is known, however, of the date
of that Play is, that it was probably brought out
before 161 1, in which year another Play, entitled
The Second Maiden's Tragedy., was licensed. But
even this is doubtful ; for there is no resemblance, or
connection of any kind, except that of the names,
between the two Pl^ys.*

* " This tragedy," sajs Malone " (as I learn from a MS.
of Mr. Oldjs), was formerly in the possession of John War-
burton, Esq., Somerset Herald, and since in the library of
the Marquis of Lansdown." {Chronological Order, 450.)
It is one of the three Plays which escaped destruction by
Mr. Warburton's cook. It has now been printed " from the
original MS., 1611, in the Lansdown Collection" (British
Museum), in the First No. of The Old English Drama, Lon.
1824-25, the eight Nos. of which, making two vols., are
commonly regarded as making a supplement to' the last, or
12 volume edition of Dodsley. The title of The Second
Maideii's Tragedy appears to have been given to the present
Play by Sir George Buc, the master of the Revels. The
MS., he states, had no name inscribed on it. On the back
of the MS. the Play is attributed to William Goughe. After-
wards William has been altered to Thomas. Then this name
has been obliterated, and George Chapman substituted.
Finally, this too has Ijeen scored through, and the author-
ship assigned to William Shakspear.

The Julius C^sar. 49

On the whole, it may be inferred, from these slight
evidences, that the present Play can hardly be as-
signed to a later date than the year 1607 5 ^"^ there
is nothing to prove that it may not be of considerably
earlier date.

It is evident that the character and history of Julius
Caesar had taken a strong hold of Shakespeare's im-
agination. There is perhaps no other historical char-
acter who is so repeatedly alluded to throughout his
Plays.

'* There was never anything so sudden," says the
disguised Rosalind in As Tou Like It (v. 2) to
Orlando, speaking of the manner in which his
brother Oliver and her cousin (or sister, as she
calls her) Celia had fallen in love with one another,
" but the fight of two rams, and Caesar's thrasonical
brag of I came, saw, and overcame : for your brother
and my sister no sooner met, but they looked ; no
sooner looked, but they loved ; no sooner loved, but
they sighed ; " etc.

" O ! such a day," exclaims Lord Bardolph in the
Second Part of King Henry the Fourth (i. i) to
old Northumberland, in his misannouncement of the
issue of the field of Shrewsbury, —

So fought, so honoured, and so fairly won,
Came not till now to dignify the times
Since Caesar's fortunes.

And afterwards (in iv. 3) we have Falstaff's mag-
nificent gasconade : " I have speeded hither with the
very extremest inch [ ?] of possibility : I have foun-
dered ninescore and odd posts ; and here, travel-
tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate
valour, taken Sir John Coleville of the Dale, a most
furious [famous?] knight, and valorous enemy. But
what of that ? He saw me, and yielded ; that I may
4

50 Prolegomena.

justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, I
came, saw, and overcame."

" But now behold," says the Chorus in the Fifth
Act of King Henry the Fifths describing the tri-
umphant return of the English monarch from the
conquest of France, —

In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens.
The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort,
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Caesar in.

In the three Parts of King He7iry the Sixths which
are so thickly sprinkled with classical allusions of
all kinds, there are several to the great Roman Dic-
tator. " Henry the Fifth ! thy ghost I invocate ; "
the Duke of Bedford apostrophizes his deceased
brother in the First Part (i. i) : —

Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils I
Combat with adverse planets in the heavens I
A far more glorious star thy soul will make
Than Julius Caesar, or bright .

In the next Scene the Maid, setting out to raise the
siege of Orleans, and deliver her king and country,
compares herself to

that proud insulting ship
Which Caesar and his fortunes bare at once.

In the Second Part (iv. i) we have Suffolk, when
hurried away to execution by the seamen who had
captured him, consoling himself with —

Great men oft die by vile bezonians :
A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murdered sweet Tully ; Brutus' bastard hand
Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders
Pompey the great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

And afterwards (iv. 7) we have Lord Say, in some-

The Julius C^sar. 51

what similar circumstances, thus appealing to Cade
and his mob of men of Kent : —

Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
Is termed the civilest place of all this isle ;
Sweet is the country, because full of riches ;
The people liberal, valiant, active, worthy; .
Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.

" O traitors ! murderers ! " Qiieen Margaret in the
Third Part (v. 5) shrieks out in her agony and
rage, when the Prince her son is butchered before
her eyes : —

They that stabbed Caesar shed no blood at all,

Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,

If this foul deed were by to sequel it :

He was a man ; this, in respect, a child ;

And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.

In King Richard the Third (iii. i) is a passage
of great pregnancy. " Did Julius Caesar build that
place, my lord ? " the young Prince asks Bucking-
ham, when it is proposed that he shall retire for a
day or two to the Tower before his coronation.
And, when informed in reply that the mighty Ro-
man at least began the building, he further in-
quires, —

Is it upon record, or else reported
Successively from age to age, he built it?

" It is upon record, my gracious lord," answers
Buckingham. On which the wise royal boy re-
joins, —

But say, my lord, it were not registered,

Methinks the truth should live from age to age,

As 'twere retailed to all posterity,

Even to the general all-ending day.

And then, after a "What say you, uncle?" he ex-
plains the great thought that was working in his
mind in these striking words : —

52 Prolegomena.

That Julius Caesar was a famous man :
With what his valour did enrich his wit
His wit set down to make his valour live.
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror,*
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.

Far away from anything Roman as the fable and
locality of Hamlet are, various passages testify how
much Caesar was in the mind of Shakespeare while
writing that Play. First, we have the famous pas-
sage (i. i) so closely resembling one in the Second
Scene of the Second Act of Julius Ccesar : —

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell.
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets ;
As t stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood.
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star.
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. J

Then there is (iii. 2) the conversation between
Hamlet and Polonius, touching the histrionic ex-
ploits of the latter in his university days : " I did
enact Julius Caesar : I was killed i' the Capitol ;
Brutus killed me." " It was a drule part of him to
kill so capital a calf there " (surely, by the by, to
be spoken aside^ though not so marked). Lastly,
there is the Prince's rhyming moralization (v. i) : —

Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay.
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.

* " His conqueror " is the reading of all the Folios.
** This" was restored by Theobald from the Quarto of 1597,
and has been adopted by Malone and most modern editors.

t Something is evidently wrong here ; but even Mr. Col-
lier's annotator gives us no help.

X This passage, however, is found only in the Quartos,
and is omitted in all the Folios. Nor, although retained by
Mr. Collier in his " regulated " text, is it stated to be re-
stored by his MS. annotator.

The Julius C^sar. 53

O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw !

Many notices of Caesar occur, as might be expected,
in Cymbeline. Such are the boast of Posthumus to
his friend Philario (ii. 4) of the valor of the Brit-
ons : —

Our countrymen
Are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar
Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at ;

Various passages in the First Scene of the Third

Act: —

When Julius Caesar (whose remembrance yet
Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues
Be theme and hearing ever) was in this Britain,
And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle
(Famous in Czesar's praises no whit less
Than in his feats deserving it), etc. ;

There be many Caesars,
Ere such another Julius ;

A kind of conquest
Caesar made here ; but made not here his brag
Of came, and saw, and overcame : with shame
(The first that ever touched him) he was carried
From off our coast twice beaten ; and his shipping
(Poor ignorant baubles ! ) on our terrible seas,
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, cracked
As easily 'gainst our rocks. For joy whereof
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point
(O giglot Fortune ! ) to master Caesar's sword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons strut with courage ;
Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time ; and,
as I said, there is no more such Caesars ; other of them may
have crooked noses ; but to owe such straight arms, none ;
Caesar's ambition
(Which swelled so much that it did almost stretch
The sides o' the world) against all colour, here,
Did put the yoke upon us ; which to shake off

54 Prolegomena.

Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be.

Lastly, we have a few references in Antony and Cleo-
^atra; such as, —

Broad-fronted Csesar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch (i. 4) ;

Julius Csesar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted (ii. 6) ;

What was it
That moved pale Cassius to conspire? And what
Made the all-honoured, honest, Roman Brutus,
With the armed rest, and courtiers of beauteous free-
dom.
To drench the Capitol, but that thej would
Have one man but a man? (ii. 6) ;

Your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
Grew fat with feasting there (ii. 6) ;

When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain (iii. 2) ;

Thyreus. — Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleopatra. — Your Caesar's father oft.
When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,
Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place
As it rained kisses (iii. 11).

These passages, taken all together, and some of
them more particularly, will probably be thought to
afford a considerably more comprehensive represen-
tation of "the mighty Julius " than the Play which
bears his name. We cannot be sure that that Play
was so entitled by Shakespeare. " The Tragedy
of Julius Caesar," or " The Life and Death of Julius
Caesar," would describe no more than the half of it.
Caesar's part in it terminates with the opening of the

The Julius C^sar. 55

Third Act ; after that, on to the end, we have noth-
ing more of him but his dead body, his ghost, and
his memory. The Play might more fitly be called
after Brutus than after Caesar. And still more re-
markable is the partial delineation that we have of
the man. We have a distinct exhibition of little else
beyond his vanity and arrogance, relieved and set
off by his good-nature or affability. He is brought
before us only as " the spoilt child of victory." All
the grandeur and predominance of his character is
kept in the background, or in the shade — to be in-
ferred, at most, from what is said by the other
dramatis personce — by Cassius on the one hand
and by Antony on the other in the expression of
their own diametrically opposite natures and aims,
and in a very few words by the calmer, milder, and
juster Brutus — nowhere manifested by himself. It
might almost be suspected that the complete and
full-length Caesar had been carefully reserved for
another drama. Even Antony is only half delin-
eated here, to be brought forward again on another
scene : Caesar needed such reproduction much more,
and was as well entitled to a stage which he should
tread without an equal. He is only a subordinate
character in the present Play ; his death is but an
incident in the progress of the plot.* The first
figures, standing conspicuously out from all the rest,
are Brutus and Cassius.

Some of the passages that have been collected are
further curious and interesting as being other render-
ings of conceptions that are also found in the present
Play, and as consequently furnishing data both for
the problem of the chronological arrangement of the
Plays, and for the general history of the mind and
artistic genius of the writer. After all the commen-

56 Prolegomena.

tatorship and criticism of which the works of Shake-
speare have been the subject, they still remain to be
studied in their totality with a special reference to
himself. The man Shakespeare, as read in his
works — Shakespeare as there revealed, not only in
his genius and intellectual powers, but in his char-
acter, disposition, temper, opinions, tastes, prejudices,
— is a book yet to be written.

It is remarkable, that not only in the present Play,
but also in Hamlet^ and in Antony and Cleopatra^
the assassination of Caesar should be represented as
having, taken place in the Capitol. From the Pro-
logue, quoted above, to Beaumont and Fletcher's
tragedy of The False One^ too, it would appear as
if this had become the established popular belief;
but the notion may, very probably, be older than
Shakespeare.

Another deviation from the literalities of history
which we find in the Play, is making the Trium-
virs, in the opening scene of the Fourth Act, hold
their meeting in Rome. But this may have been
done deliberately, and neither from ignorance nor
foVgetfulness.

I have had no hesitation in discarding, with all the
modern editors, such absurd perversions as Antonio^
Flavio^ Lucio^ which never can have proceeded from
Shakespeare, wherever they occur in the old copies ;
and in adopting Theobald's rectification of Murellus
for Marullus^ which also cannot be supposed to be
anything else than a mistake made in the printing
or transcription. But it seems hardly worth while
to change our familiar Portia into Porcia (although
Johnson, without being followed, has adopted that
perhaps more correct spelling in his edition).

The peculiarity of the form given to the name of

The Julius C^sar- 57

Caesar's wife in this Play does not seem to have been
noticed. The only form of the name known to
antiquity is Calpurnia, And that is also the name
even in North's English translation of Plutarch^
Shakespeare's great authority. [This is an error,
into which White also, who changes the name to
Calpurnia^ has fallen. In the first (1579) edition
of North's Plutarch — the edition which Shake-
speare must have used — the name is Calphurnia
(see p. 769) ; but in some of the later editions —
that of 1676, for instance — I find it changed to Cal-
purnia.~\ I have not, however, ventured to rectify
it, in the possibility that, although a corrupt form, it
may be one which Shakespeare found established in
the language, and in possession of the public ear.
In that case, it is to be classed with Ant/io?zy,
Protheus^ and Bosphorus^ the common modern cor-
ruption of the classic Bosporus^ which even Gibbon
does not hesitate to use.

The name of the person called Decius Brutus
throughout the play was Decimus Brutus. Decius
is not, like Decimus^ a pragnomen, but a gentilitial
name. The error, however, is as old as the edition of
Plutarch's Greek text produced by Henry Stephens
in 1572 ; * and it occurs likewise in the accompa-
nying Latin translation, and both in Amyot's and
Dacier's French, as well as in North's English. It
is also found in Philemon Holland's translation of
Suetonius^ published in 1606. Lord Stirling, in his
yulius Ccesar^ probably misled in like manner by
North, has fallen into the same mistake with Shake-
speare. That Decius is no error of the press is
shown by its occurrence sometimes in the verse in
places where Decimus could not stand.

* 'Ev It Toin-ifi AiKtos Bpoijros hlKXrjatv 'AXf^ivos. Vit. Cces. p. 1354.

58 Prolegomena.

Finally, it may be noticed that it was really this
Decimus Brutus who had been the special friend
and favorite of Caesar, not Marcus Junius Brutus the
conspirator, as represented in the Play. In his mis-
conception upon this point our English dramatist has
been followed by Voltaire in his tragedy of La Mort
de Cesar ^ which is written avowedly in imitation of
the Julius CcBsar of Shakespeare.

NOTE.

At the end of the Prolegomena^ in Craik's third edition,
is the following note :

"I have not thought it necessary, in the present revision,
to make the numerous typographical rectifications which
would have been required in the margin of every page, and
also in many of the references, to remove the traces of an
unimportant error of one in the numbering of the speeches
from 249, which ought to be 248, onwards to the end of the
play."

In this American edition I determined to make these
"numerous typographical rectifications," and did not hap-
pen to notice, until the book was almost ready to go to
press, that Craik's error was not 'where he supposed it to be
(from 249 onwards), but merely in numbering 246 and 247,
which he makes, as I have done, 245 and 246.

It is rather provoking to find that I have thus been at con-
siderable trouble to correct (more Hibernico^ the imaginary
error, while I have retained the real one ; but it cannot now
be helped, and luckily both errors are " unimportant." I
shall be pardoned, of course, for not distrusting the author's
statement in regard to his own mistakes. W. J. R.

JULIUS C^SAR

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

JULIUS C^SAR.

OCTAVIUS C^SAR, ") Triumvirs,
MARCUS ANTOXIUS, \ after the death
M. iEMIL. LEPIDUS, J o/JuliusCmsar.
CICERO, PUBLIUS, P0PILIU8 LENA;

Se7iators.
MARCUS BRUTUS,
CASSIUS,
C^iSCA,
TREBONTUS,
LIGARIUS,
DECnrS BRUTUS,
METELLUS CDkLBER,
CIXXA,

FLAVIUS and ^LARULLUS, 2W6uw*.
ARTE&IIDORUS, a Sophist of Ciiidos.

Conspirators

against Julius

Ceesar.

A SOOTHSAYER.

CINXA, a foe*.— Another POET.

LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA,

Young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS;

Friends to Brutus and Cassius.
VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRA-

TO, LUCIUS, DARDANIUS; ServanU

to Brutus.
PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius.

CALPHUR^^A, Wi/e to Csssar.
PORTIA, Wife to Brutus.

Senators, CmzsNS, OuABi>fl,ATTKND.

ANTS, ETC.

Scene, during a great fart of the Play., at Rome ; after-
wards at Sardis ; and near PhiUppi.

ACT I.

SCENE I.— Rome. A Street.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and a Rabble of Citizens.

[. Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get jou home.
Is this a holiday ? What ! know you not.
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,

Mpon.n W •''Cf ilU^ without the sign

Of your profession } — Speak, what trade art thou?
I at. 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 ?

(59)

6o Julius C^sar. [act i.

2 Cit. 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.

6. 2 Cit. A trade. Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soles.

7. Mar. What trade, thou knave.? thou naughty knave,

what trade .''

8. 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, Jje not out with me :

y^*" if iiiiT^£^^ ^^^,>.^^^', •"• ^^'^ rnend you. """^

9. il/ar-What Inean^t thou by that.? Mend me, thou
saucy fellow ,?

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou .?
12. 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is with tiie tyL I
meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's mat-
ters, but with awl. I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old
shoes ; when they are in great danger, I recover them,
^s 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 .?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get my-
self into more work. But, indeed. Sir, we make holiday
to see Cajsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
15. Mar. Wherefore rejoice.? What conquest brings he
home .?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels .?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things I
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,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in. your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And, when you saw his chariot but appear.
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores ?

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 6i

And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
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
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
i6. Flav. Go, go, good coitn try men, and, for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and Aveep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. \_Exeunt Citizens.
' See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved I
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol ;
This way will I. Disrobe the images.
If you do find them decked with ceremonies.

17. Mar. May we do so?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

18. Flav. It is no matter ; let no images

Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,

And drive away the vulgar from the streets ;

So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

These growing feathers plucked from Csesar's wing

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ;

Who else would soar above the view of men,

And keep us all in servile fearfulness. {Exeunt.

SCENE II. — The same. A Public Place.

Enter, in Procession luith Music, C^sar ; Antony, for the
course ; Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus,
Cassius, and Casca, a great croivd folloiving; among
them a Soothsayer.

CcBS. Calphurnia, —

Casca. Peace, ho ! Ceesar speaks. \_Music ceases.

CcEs. Calphurnia, —
Cal. Here, my lord.
23. C<ss. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his course. — Antonius.

62 Julius C^sar. [act i.

Ant. Caesar, my lord.
25. CcBs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia ; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.

Ant. I shall remember :
When Csesar says. Do this, it is performed.

CcBs. Set on ; and leave no ceremony out. {^Music*

Sooth. Caesar.

CcBs. Ha ! who calls .?

Casca. Bid every noise be still. — Peace yet again.

\_Music ceases.

CcBs. Who is it in the press that calls on me ?
I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
Cry, Csesar. Speak ; Caesar is turned to hear.
32. Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Cces. What man is that.f*
34. Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March.

Cces. Set him before me ; let me see his face.

Cas. Fellow, come from the throng ; look upon Caesar.

Cess. What say'st thou to me now ? Speak once again.

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
39. Cces. He is a dreamer: let us leave him; — pass.

[Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius.

Cas. Will yoii go see the order of the course?

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 ;
I'll leave you.

44. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late :
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And shew of love as I was wont to have :
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

45. 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,

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 63

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) ;

Nor construe any further my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

Forgets the shews of love to other men.

46. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion ;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face.?

47. Bru. No, Cassius : for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.

48. Cas. 'Tisjust:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
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,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me !

50. 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.

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.

And after scandal them ; or if you know

That I profess myself in banqueting

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

{Flourish and shout.

51. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people
Choose Caesar for their king.

64 JyLius C^SAR. [act I.

Cas. Aj, do yon fear it ?
Then must I think jou would not have it so.

53. Bru. I would not, Cassius ; yet I love him well. —
But wherefore do jou hold me here so long?

What is it that jou would impart to me ?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honor in one eje, 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.

54. Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
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

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,

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,

Caesar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, novj

Leap hi ivith me into this angry Jlood,

And sivitn to yonUer poijit ? Upon the word.

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in.

And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did.

The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it

WTth lusty sinews ; throwing it aside,

And stemming it with hearts of controversy.

But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

CsEsar cried. Help me, Cassius, or I sink.

I, as yEneas, 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

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

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 65

How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake :

His coward lips did from their colour 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

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,

And bear the palm alone. [^Shout. Flourish.

55. Bru. Another general shout !

I do believe, that these applauses are

For some new honors that are heaped on CiEsar.

56. Cas. 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 dishonorable graves.

Men at some time are masters of their fates :

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars.

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Ccesar: what should be in that Ccesarf

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;

Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Ccesar. \Shoui,

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

Upon what meat doth this our Cajsar feed.

That he is grown so great .'' Age, thou art shamed :

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?

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

As easily as a king.

5

66 Julius C^sar. [act

57. 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,

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.

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.

58. Cas. I am glad, that my weak words

Have struck but this much shew of fire from Brutus.
Re-enter C^sar and his Train.
Bru. The games are done and Cajsar is returning.

60. Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.

61. Bru. I will do so. — But, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Csesar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train :
Calphurnia's cheek is pale ; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,

Being crossed in conference by some senators,

62. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Cces. Antonius.

Ant. Ccesar.

65. 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.

66. Ant. Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous.
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

67. Cces. 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

So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 67

He is a great observer, and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plajs,

As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:

Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort,

As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit

That could be moved to smile at anything.

Such men as he be never at heart's ease,

Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ;

And therefore are they very dangerous.

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 C^sar and his Train. Casca stays
behind.

Casca. You pulled me by the cloak : would you speak
with me }
69. Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,
That Caesar looks so sad.

Casca. Why, you were with him, were yOu not?

Bru. I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.

Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him : and, being
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 ?
78. Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every
time gentler than other; and, at every putting by, mine
honest neighbours shouted.

Cas. Who offered him the crown ?

Casca. Why, Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
82. 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

68 Julius C^sar. [act i.

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 chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-
caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because
Csesar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cae-
sar; for he swooned, and fell down at it. And, for my
own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips,
and receiving the bad air.
8^. Cas. But, soft, I pray you. What ! did Csesar swoon }
Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed
at mouth, and was speechless.

85. Bru. 'Tis very like : he hath the falling sickness.

86. Cas. No, Csesar hath it not; but you and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.

87. 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 displeased
them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no
true man.

Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself.''
89. Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived
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
infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried,
Alas, good soull — 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.

Bru. And after that he came thus sad away?

Casca. Ay.

Cas. Did Cicero say anything?

Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek.

Cas. To what effect?
95. 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

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 69

another, and shook their heads ; but, for my own part,
it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too :
Marullus and Flavins, for pulling scarfs off Caesar's im-
ages, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more
foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?
97. 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.

Cas. Good : I will expect you.

Casca. Do so. Farewell, both. \^Exit CascA.

102. Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
He was quick mettle when he went to school.

103. Cas. So is he now, in execution
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.

104. 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 will.
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

105. Cas. I will do so : — till then, think of the world.

\_Exii Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yei^ 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?
Csesar doth bear me hard ; but he loves Brutus :
If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,
He should not humour me. I will this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from several citizens.
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 ;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [ExiL

7o Julius C^sar. [act i.

SCENE III. — The same. A Street.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter ^ from oj>;posite sideSy Casca,
tvith his sword drawn, and Cicero.

io6. Cic. Good even, Casca. Brought jou Caesar home ?
Why are jou breathless } and why stare you so "i

107. Casca. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
Shakes, like a thing unfirm } O Cicero, g

I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
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.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.

108. Cic. Why, saw you anything more wonderful?

109. Casca. A common slave (you know him well by sight)
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn

Like twenty torches joined ; and yet his hand.
Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched.
Besides (I have not since put up my sword).
Against the Capitoll met a lion,
Wh9 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.
And yesterday the birdof night 4id sit,
Even at noonday, upon the market-place,
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say.
These are their reasons, — they are natural ;
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.
no. 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 Cse'sar to the Capitol to-morrow?

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 71

Casca. He doth ; for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow.
112. Ctc. Good night, then, Casca : this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Casca. Farewell, Cicero. [^Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

Cas. Who's there.?

Casca. A Roman.

Cas. Casca, by your voice.
117. Casca. Your ear is good. Cassius, what a night is
this!

Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men.

Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so }
120. 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
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.

Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the
heavens?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
122. Cas. You 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,
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, fools, and children calculate ;
Why all these things change from their ordinance,
Their natures, and pre-formed faculties.
To monstrous quality ; why, you shall find.
That heaven hath infused them with these spirits,
To ma^e them instruments of fear and warning

72 Julius C^sar. [act i.

Unto some monstroHJSLslate, — Nowi could I, Casca,
'"""TTaTTref'tOtlTee a man most like this dreadful night ;
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars,
As doth the lion, in the Capitol :
A man no mightier than thyself or me,
In personal action ; yet_proiiigiQUS_gjcown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

Casca. 'Tis Csesar that you mean : is it not, Cassius?
124. Cas. Let it be who it is : for Romans now
H&ve thews and limbs like to their ancestors.
But, wbe'the while I 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
Mean to establish Caesar as a king :
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
In every place, save here in Italy.

126. Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger, then ;
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius :
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
"But life, being weary of these worldly bars.
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
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,

127. Casca. So can I :

So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

128. 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 :
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
So vile a thing as Csesar ! But, O, grief I •

I

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 73

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.

129. Ca^ca. 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.

130. Cas. There's a bargain made.

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

In Pompey's porch : for now, this fearful night,

There is no stir or walking in the streets ;

And the complexion of the element

In favour 's like the work we have in hand,

Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

Enter Ciistna.

Casca. Stand close awhile, 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?

134. Cas. No, it is Casca ; one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna. ^

135. Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this !
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.

136. Cas. Am I not staid for ? Tell me.

137. Cin. Yes, you are. —
O Cassius, if you could

But win the noble Brutus to our party I

138. 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

Upon old Brutus' statue : all this done,

Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us.

Is Decius Brutus, and Trebonius there }

74 Julius C^sar. [act n.

139. Ctn. All but Metellus Cimber ; and he's gone
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers as you bade me.

140. Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.

\_Exit CiNNA.
Come, Casca, you and I will yet, ere day.
See Brutus at his house : three parts of him
Is ours already; and the man entire.
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.

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.
142. 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, — The same. Brutus's Orchard.

Enter Brutus.

143. Bru. What, Lucius ! ho I

I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
^ Gixe gue«& how joeaiUo day. — Lucius, I say! —
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. —
When, Lucius ? when ? Awake, I say 1 What, Lucius I

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,

X47. Bru. It must be by his death : and, for my part,
I know no personal cause to spurn at him.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 75

But for the general. He would be crowned : —

liow that might change his nature, there's the question.

It is the bright daj that brings forth the adder ;

And that craves wary walking. Crown him? — that; —

And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,

That at his will he may do danger with.

The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins

Remorse from power; and, to speak truth of Caesar,

I have not known when his affections swayed

More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,

That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,

Whereto the climber upward turns his face :

But when he once attains the upmost round,

He then unto the ladder turns his back.

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 colour for the thing he is.

Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented,

Would run to these and these extremities :

And therefore think him as a serpent's eggy

Which, hatched, would, as his kind, g^ow mischievous;

And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter Lucius.

148. Luc. The taper burneth in your closet. Sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus sealed up ; and, I am sure.
It did not lie there when I went to bed.

[ Gives htm the letter,

149. Bru. Get you to bed again ; it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March ?

Luc. I know not. Sir.

Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will. Sir. lExt't,

153. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air,
Give so much light, that I may read by them.

[ opens the letter ^ and reads.
'■''Brutus^ thou sleep'' st ; aivake^ and see thyself.

Shall Rome^ &c. Sfeak, strike^ redress !"

Brutus, thou sleep' st ; awake.

*f6 Julius C^sar. [act ii.

Such instigations have been often dropped

Where I have took them up.

Shall Rome, drc. 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.

SJ>eak, strike, redress !

Am I entreated

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.

154. Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

[^Knock ivtthin.

155. Bru, 'Tis good. Go to the gate ; somebody knocks.

\_Extt Lucius.
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream :
The genius, and the mortal instruments.
Are then in council ; and the state of a mail)
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.

Re-enter Lucius.

156. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.

Bru. Is he alone ?
158. Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him.

Bru. Do you know them ?
160. 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

By any mark of favour.
i6i. Bru. Let 'em enter. [^Exit Lucius.

They are the faction. O Conspiracy !

Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,

When evils are most free ! O, then, by day,

gc. I.] Julius C^sar. 77

Where wilt thou find a cavarn dark enough

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.

Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cim-
BER, and Trebonius.

162. 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
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.
168. 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? [^They 'whis^er,

Dec. Here lies the east : doth not the day break here ?

Casca. No.

173. Cin. O, pardon. Sir, it doth ; and yon grey lines,
That fret the clouds, are messengers of day.

174. Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceived.
Here, 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
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

175. Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Cas. And let us swear our resolution.

177. Bru. No, not an oath : if not the face of men,

78 Julius C^sar. [act ii.

The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse, —
If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed ;
So let high-sighted tyranny range on.
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour
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 wordi
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
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 metal of our spirits.
To think that or our cause or our performance
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.
178. 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.

181. Met. O, let us have him ; for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion.

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.

182. Bru. O, name him not; let us not break with him;
For he will never follow anything

That other men begin.
Cas. Then leave him out.
Casca. Indeed, he is not fit.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 79

Dec. Shall no man else be touched but only Caesar?

186. Cas. Decius, well urged. — I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,

Should outlive Caesar. We shall find of him
A shrewd contriver ; and, you know, his means,
If he improve them, may well stretch so far
As to annoy us all : which to prevent,
Let Antony and Caesar fall together.

187. Bru. Our course will 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.
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood :
O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit.
And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends.
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
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.
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide 'em. This shall mark
Our purpose necessary, and not envious :
Wliich so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be called purgers, not murderers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him ;
For he can do no more than Caesar's arm
When Caesar's head is off.

188. Cas. Yet I do fear him :

For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar,

189. Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him :
If he loves Cjesar, all that he can do

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.

190. Treb. There is no fear in him ; let him not die ;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

{^Clock strikes,
Bru. Peace, count the clock.

8o Julius C^sar, [act ii.

192. Cas. The clock hath stricken three.
Tred. 'Tis time to part.

194. Cas. But it is doubtful jet

Whether Caesar will come forth to-day or no :
For he is superstitious grown of late ;
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,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.

195. £>ec. 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,
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 humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
197. Bru. By the eighth hour : is that the uttermost?

Czn. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

199. Mei. Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard.
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey ;
I wonder none of you have thought of him.

200. 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.

201. Cas. The morning comes upon us: we'll leave you,

Brutus : —
And, friends, disperse yourselves : but all remember
What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

202. Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily ;
Let not our looks put on our purposes :

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 I Lucius I — Fast asleep ? It is no matter ;

r

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 8i

Enjoy the heavy honey-dew of slumber :
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
Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning.
205. Por. Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed : and yesternight, at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walked about.
Musing, and sighing, with your arms across :
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 :
Yet I insisted, yet you answered not;
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 humour.
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.
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.

Por. 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.
209. Por. Is Brutus sick ? and is it physical
To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What! is Brutus sick.
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
To dare the vile contagion of the night?
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
6

82 Julius C^sar. [act ii.

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,
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 what men to-night
Have had resort to you : for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia.
211. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
Is 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,
Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honorable wife ;
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.

213. 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 woman well reputed, Cato's daughter.

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

Here, in the thigh : can I bear that with patience,

And not my husband's secrets?

214. Bru. O ye gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife I {^Knocking inithin.
Hark, harkl one knocks. Portia, go in awhile;
And by and by thy bosom shall partake

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 83

The secrets of my heart.

All my engagements I will construe to thee,

All the charactery of my sad brows : —

Leave me with haste. \_Extt Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, -N^^ho's that, knocks ?

Luc. Here is a sick man that would speak with you..

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. —
Boy, stand aside. — Caius Ligarius ! how.-*
317. Ltg-. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
3x8. Bru. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick !

L,iff. 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.
231. Ltg: By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome I
Brave son, derived from honorable loins I
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up
My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
And I will strive with things impossible.
Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?

Bru. A piece of work that will make sick men whole.

Ltg-. But are not some whole that we must make sick?

224. Bru. That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going

To whom it must be done.

225. Ltg. Set on your foot ;

And, with a heart new-fired, I follow you,
To do I know not what : but it sufficeth,
That Brutus leads me on.

Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt.

SCENE IL— The same. A Room in CjesmCs Palace.

Thunder and lightning. Enter C^SAR in his night-gown.

227. CcBs. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to-
night :
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out,
Help^ ho ! they murder Ccesar ! — Who's within ?

84 Julius C^sar. [act ii.

Enter a Servant.
Serv. Mj lord ?
229. Cces. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.

Serv. I will, my lord. [Exit,

Enter Calphurnia.

Cal. What mean you, Csesar? 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
The face of Caesar, they are vanished.

233. 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,-
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 fight upon the clouds,

In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war,

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.

O Caesar ! these things are beyond all use,

And I do fear them.

234. CcBS. What can be avoided.

Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods ?
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 ;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
236. Cobs. Cowards die many times before their deaths ;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come, when it will come.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 85

Re-enter a 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.

238. 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, Ccesar shall not. Danger knows full well
That Csesar is more dangerous than he.
We are two lions littered in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible ;
And Ceesar shall go forth.

239. Cal. Alas, my lord.

Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.
Do not go forth to-day. Call it my fear,
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.

240. Cces. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well;
And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.

Enter Decius.

Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.

241. Dec. Csesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar:
I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

242. Cces. And you are come in very happy time
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.

244. Cces. Shall Csesar send a lie ?

Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far.
To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth ?
Decius, go tell them Ca;sar will not come.

Dec. Most mighty Csesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so.

245. Cces. The cause is in my will ; I will not come :

86 ' Julius C^sar. [act ii.

That is enough to satisfy the senate.
But, for your private satisfaction,
Because I love you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home :
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
Of evils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begged that I will stay at home to-day.
246. Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted :
It was a vision fair and fortunate.
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
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, stains, relics, and cognizance.
This by Calphurnia's dream is signified.

Cces. And this way have you well expounded it.

248. Dec. I have, when you have heard 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,
Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
Apt to be rendered, for some one to say,
Break uj> the senate till another time.,
When CcBsar's ivife shall meet ■with better dreams.
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper,
Lo^ Ccesar 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.

249. Cces. How foolish do your fears seem now, Cal-

phurnia!
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 Publius is come to fetch me.
Pub. Good morrow, Caesar.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 87

251. CcBs. Welcome, Publius. —

What, Brutus, are you stirred so early too? —
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?

252. Bru. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight.

253. Cces. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

Enter Antony.
See ! Antony, that revels long o' nights,
Is, notwithstanding, up : —
Good morrow, Antony.
Ant. So to most noble Caesar.
255. C(^s. Bid them prepare within : —
I am to blame to be thus waited for. —
Now, Cinna. — Now, Metellus. — What, Trebonias I
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 : — and so near will I be,
That your best friends shall wish I had been further.

\_Astde»
CcBs. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me ;
And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
258 Bru. That every like is not the same, O Caesar,
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon !

{Aside. Exeunt,

SCENE III. — The same. A Street near the Capitol.

Enter Artemidorus, reading a Paper.

259. Art. Caesar, beware <?/" Brutus ; ^a/te i^ee^^Cassius;
come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not
Trebonius; mark luell Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus
loves thee not; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There
is but one mind iii all these men, and it is bent against
Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you: se-
curity gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend
thee ! Thy lover, Artemidorus.

88 Julius C^sar. [act ii.

Here will I stand, till Caesar pass along,

And as a suitor will I give him this.

My heart laments, that virtue cannot live

Out of the teeth of emulation.

If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live;

If not, the fates with traitors do contrive. [^Exti.

SCENE IV. — The same. Another part of the same Street^
before the House of Brutus.

Enter Portia and Lucius.

260. Por. I pr'jthee, boj, run to the senate-house ;

Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.

Why dost thou stay ?

Luc. To know my errand, madam.
262. Por. I would have had thee there, and here again,

Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. —

0 constancy, be strong upon my side I

Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue I

1 have a man's mind, but a woman's might.
How hard it is for women to keep counsel ! —
Art thou here yet?

Luc. Madam, what should I do .''
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else.'*
And so return to you, and nothing else?

Por. 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.
Hark, boy! what noise is that?

Luc. I hear none, madam.

266. Por. Pr'ythee, listen well ;

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.

267. Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

Enter The Soothsayer.

268. Por. Come hither, fellow. Which way hast thou been?
Sooth. At mine own house, good lady.

270. Por. What is't o'clock ?

Sooth. About the ninth hour, lady.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 89

Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol ?

Sooth. Madam, not jet : I go to take mj stand,
To see him pass on to the Capitol.

Por. Thou hast some suit to CiEsar, hast thou not?

Sooth. That I have, lady : if it will please Cssar
To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

276. Por. Why, knowest thou any harm's intended towards

him?

277. 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 follows Caesar at the heels.
Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death :
I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.

278. Por. I must go in. — Ay me ! how weak a thing
The heart of woman is I

O Brutus !
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise I —
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. \ExeunU

ACT m.

SCENE /.— The same. The Captol', the Senate sitting.

A Crowd of People in the Street leading to the Capitol;
ainong them Artemidorus and the Soothsayer.
Flourish. Enter C^sar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca,
Decius, Metellus, Trebgnius, Cinna, Antony,
Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and others.

Cces. The ides of March are come.

90 Julius C^sar. [act hi.

Sooth. Ay, Caesar ; but not gone.
Art. Hail, Csesar, read this schedule.
282. Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read,
At jour best leisure, this his humble suit.

Art. O, Caesar, read mine first ; for mine's a suit
That touches Csesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar.
284. Cces. That touches us ? Ourself shall be last served.
Art. Delay not, Csesar; read it instantly.
Cces. What, is the fellow mad ?
Pub. Sirrah, give place.
288. Cas. What, urge you your petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitol.

C^SAR enters the Capitol, the rest following'.
All the Senators rise.
Pop. I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
Cas. What enterprise, Popilius .?
291. Poj>. Fare you well. \Advances to C^SAR.

Bru. What said Popilius Lena.?
Cas. He wished to-day our enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose is discovered.

294. Bru. Look, how he makes to Caesar : mark him.

295. Cas. Casca, be sudden^ for we fear prevention. —
Brutus, what shall be done.? If this be known,
Cassius on Caesar never shall turn back,

For I will slay myself.

296. Bru. Cassius, be constant :

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.

297. Cas. Trebonius knows his time ; for, look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

\_Exeunt Antony and Trebonius. C^sar
and the Senators take their seats,
Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber.? Let him go.
And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.

299. Bru. He is addressed : press near and second him.

300. Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.

301. Casca. Are we all ready.?
Cces. What is now amiss,

That Caesar, and his senate, must redress?
303. Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant
Caesar,

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 91

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

An humble heart : — {Kneeling^

304. Cces. I must prevent thee, Cimber.
These crouchings, and these lowly courtesies,
Might fire 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.

That will be thawed from the true quality

With that which melteth fools ; I mean sweet words,

Low-crouched curtsies, and base spaniel fawning.

Thy brother by decree is banished ;

If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him,

I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.

Know, Caesar doth not wrong ; nor without cause

Will he be satisfied.

305. Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear

For the repealing of my banished brother?

306. 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 !

308. Cas. Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon :
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,

To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

309. 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,

!.. 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 :
So, in the world ; 'tis furnished well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; i
Yet, in the number, I do know but one"
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshaked of motion : and, that I am he.
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.

Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion, ^s\
in. Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is deadT^^^^^*"^ — ***«*^
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. k^.

Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out, ^^^^

92 Julius C^sar. [act in.

Cin. O Caesar,

311. Cces. Hence ! wilt thou lift up Olympus ?
Dec. Great Caesar,

313. Cces. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

314. Casca. Speak, hands, for me.

[Casca stabs C^SAR in the neck. C-.ESAR catches ^
hold of his arm. He is then stabbed by several
other Conspirators, and at last by Marcus Brutus, j^

315. CcBs. Et tu, Brute. — Then, fall, Caesar. C^
in c

Cin. Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is deadT^^^^^*"^ — ***«*^

md cry c

Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement
318. Bru. People, and senators! be not aifrighted; XW]
Fly not ; stand still : — ambition's debt is paid.

Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. 'N

Dec. And Cassius too.

Bru. Where's Publius?

Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. ;

Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's ^

Should chance V ^

324. Bru. Talk not of standing. — Publius,\good cheer \
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.

326. Bru. Do so ; — and let no man abide this deed,
But we the doers.

Re-enter Trebonius.

327. Cas. Where's Antony ?

328. 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.
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
330. Casca. 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 :

^

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 93

So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged
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 we forth, even to the market-place ;
And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads.
Let's all cry, Peace! Freedom! and Liberty!

332. Cas. Stoop, then, and wash. — How many ages hence.
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

In states unborn, and accents yet unknown I

333. Bru. How many times shall Csesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey's basis lies along,

No worthier than the dust!

334. 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?
336. Cas. Ay, every man away :

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 Antonys.

338. Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down :

And, being prostrate, thifs 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.
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
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state.
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.

339. Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ;
I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him come unto this place,

94 Julius C^sar. [act hi.

He shall be satisfied ; and, by my honor,
Depart untouched.

Serv. I'll fetch him presently. \^Exit Serv.

341. Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend.

342. Cas. I wish we may : but yet have I a mind
That fears him much ; and my misgiving still
Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

Re-enter Antony.

343. Bru. But here comes Antony. — Welcome, Mark An-

tony.

344. Ant. O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
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

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,

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.

345. Bru. O Antony ! beg not your death of us.
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 :
Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful ;

And pity to the general wrong of Rome

(As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity).

Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,

To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony :

Our arms, in strength of welcome, and our hearts,

Of brothers' temper, do receive you in.

With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's,
In the disposing of new dignities.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 95

347. Bru. Only be patient, till we have appeased
The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
And then we will deliver yon the cause

Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,
Have thus proceeded.

348. Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom.

Let each man render me his bloody hand :

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.

Gentlemen all, — 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 :

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 ?

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, Julius ! — Here wast thou bayed, brave hart;

Here didst thou fall ; and here thy hunters stand, *

Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy daalh. xU>CIJao

O world ! thou wast the forest to this hart; ^^

And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. —

How like a deer, strucken by many princes,

Dost thou here lie !

Cas. Mark Antony,

350. Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius :
The enemies of Caesar shall say this ;
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

351. Cas. I blame you not for praising Caesar so;
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?

96 Julius C^sar. [act hi.

352. Ant. Therefore I took your hands; but was, indeed,
Swayed from the point, by looking down on Caesar.
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.

353. Bru. Or else were this a savage spectacle.
Our reasons are so full of good regard,
That, were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,
You should be satisfied.

354. 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,
Speak in the order of his funeral.
Bru. You shall, Mark Antony.

356. Cas. Brutus, a word with you. —

You know not what you do. Do not consent

That Antony speak in his funeral.

Know you how much the people may be moved

By that which he will utter? [Aside,

357. 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 ;
And that we are contented Caesar shall
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.
It shall advantage more than do us wrong.

358. Cas. I know not what may fall ; I like it not.

359. Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body.
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
In the same pulpit whereto I am going.
After my speech is ended.

Ant. Be it so ;
I do desire no more.
361. Bru. Prepare the body, then, and follow us.

lExeunt all but Antony.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 97

362. Ant. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
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 I
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, —
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue : —
A curse shall light upon the loins of men;
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy :
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 with custom of fell deeds ;
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 I and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
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.

365. Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming :
And bid me say to you by word of mouth, —

O Caesar ! \_Seeing the Body.

366. 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,
Began to water. Is tliy master coming.?

Serv. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.
368. 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 ;
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay a while ;
Thou shalt not back, till I have borne this corse

7

98 Julius Cjesar, [act m.

Into the market-place : there shall I try,

In my oration, how the people take

The cruel issue of these bloodj men ;

According to the which thou shalt discourse

To young Octavius of the state of things.

Lend me your hand. [_Exeunt with C-<ESAR*S Body.

SCENE II.— The same. The Fortim.
Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng ^Citizens.

369. Cit. We will be satisfied ; let us be satisfied.

370. 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 ;

Those that will follow Cassius, go with him ;

And public reasons shall be rendered

Of Csesar's death.

I Cit. I will hear Brutus speak.

372. 2 Cit. I will hear Cassius ; and compare their reasons,
When severally we hear them rendered.

{Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens.
Brutus goes into the Rostrum.

373. 3 Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence !

374. Bru. Be patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers 1 hear me for my cause ;
and be silent, that you may hear : believe me for mine
honor; and have respect to mine honor, that you may
believe : 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 Csesar'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 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 freemen ? 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 ambi-
tious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 99

his fortune; honor for his valour; and death for his
ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a bond-
man ? 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.

375. Cit. None, Brutus, none. \_Several speaking at once.

376. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no
more to Csesar than you shall do to Brutus. The ques-
tion of his death is enrolled in the Capitol : his glory
not exter^uated. wherein he was worthy ; nor his offences
enforced, for which he suffered death.

Enter ANTONY and others, luith C^fiSAR'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.

Cit. Live, Brutus, live I live I

1 Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

2 Cit, Give him a statue with his ancestors.

3 Cit. Let him be Caesar.
381. 4 Cit. Caesar's better parts

Shall now be crowned in Brutus.

1 Cit. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and

clamours.
Bru. My countrymen,

2 Cit. Peace ; silence ! Brutus speaks.
I Cit. Peace, ho !

386. 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,
By our permission, is allowed to make.
I do entreat you, not a man depart,
Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. \Exit.

I Cit. Stay, ho ! and let us hear Mark Antony.

loo Julius C^sar. [act hi.

3 Ctt. Let him go up into the public chair;
We'll hear him. — Noble Antony, go up.

389. Ajit. For Brutus' sake, I am beholden to you.

4 Ctt, What does he say of Brutus ?

3 Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake,
He finds himself beholden to us all.

4 Ctt. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.

1 Cit. This Csesar was a tyrant.
394. 3 Cit. Nay, that's certain :

We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

2 Cit. Peace, let us hear what Antony can say.
Ant. You gentle Romans,

Cit. Peace, ho ! let us hear him.
398. Ant. Friends, Romans, countrjrmen, lend me your
ears ;
I come to bury Csesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do Hves after them ;
The good is oft interred with their bones :
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Csesar was ambitious :
If it were so, it was a grievous fault ;
And grievously hath Caesar answered it.
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 :
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.^
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept :
Ambition should be made of sterner stuflf.
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see, that on the Lupercal
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.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. ioj

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause ;

What cause withholds jou, then, to mourn for him?

0 judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have lost their reason ! — Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

1 C//. Methinks, there is much reason in his sayings

2 Ci'f. If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong.

3 CzV. Has he not, masters.?

1 fear, there will a worse come in his place.

402. 4 Czf. Marked ye his words ? He would not take the

crown ;
Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious.

403. I Ci'i. If it be found so, some will dear abide it.

2 C/V. Poor soul ! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

3 C//. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.

4 Cil. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
407. 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.

0 masters ! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,

1 should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honorable men :

I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose
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
(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,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue.
4 C//. We'll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony.

I02 Julius C^sar. [act hi.

CH. The will, the will ! we will hear Caesar's will.

Ant. Have patience, gentle friends ; I must not read it ;
It is not meet jou know how Caesar loved you.
You are not wood, jou are not stones, but men ;
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ;
For if you should, O, what would come of it!

411. 4 Cit. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony; you
shall read us the will ; Caesar's will !

412. Ant. Will you be patient.? Will you stay a while ?
I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it.

I fear I wrong the Ijonorable men.

Whose daggers have stabbed Caesar : I do fear it.

4 Cit. They were traitors ! Honorable men !

Cit. The will ! the testament !

2 Cit. They were villains,, murderers ! The will I
Read the will I

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?
Cit. Come down.
418. 2 Cit. Descend. \He comes down from the jl>ulptt.

3 Cit. You shall have leave.

4 Cit. A ring : stand round.

421. I Cit. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
2 Cit. Room for Antony ! — most noble Antony !
Ant. Nay, press not so upon me ; stand far off.
Cit. Stand back! room! bear back'! j

425. Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. »
You all do know this mantle : I remember / '

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 :
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed ;
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 103

If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ;

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel :

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him I

This was the most unkindest cut of all :

For, when the noble Caesar saw him stab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,

Quite vanquished him : then burst his mighty heart;

And, 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 !

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, when you but behold

Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here,

Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors.

1 Cit. O piteous spectacle I

2 Cit. O noble Caesar 1

3 Cit. O woeful day !

4 Cit. O traitors, villains !

1 Cit. O most bloody sight !

2 Cit. We will be revenged ; revenge! about, — seek, —
burn, — fire, — kill, — slay I — let not a traitor live.

432. Ant. Stay, countrymen.

1 Cit. Peace there ! — hear the noble Antony.

2 Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with
him.

435. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
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.
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.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,

I04 Julius C^sar. [act hi.

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,

To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ;

I 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,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Csesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Cit. We'll mutiny.

1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus.

3 Cit. Away, then ! come, seek the conspirators.

Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen ; yet hear me speak.

Cit. Peace, ho ! Hear Antony, most noble Antony.

Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Csesar thus deserved your loves "i
Alas, you know not : — I must tell you, then. —
You have forgot the will I told you of.

Cit. Most true ; — the will ; — let's stay, and hear the
will.
443. Ant. Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives,
To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.

2 Cit. Most noble Caesar I — we'll revenge his death.

3 Cit. O royal Caesar 1

Ant. Hear me with patience.
Cit. Peace, ho !

448. Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs forever ; common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.

Here was a Csesar: when comes such another?

449. I Cit. Never, never ! — Come, away, away I
We'll burn his body in the holy place,

And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
Take up the body.

2 Cit. Go, fetch fire.

3 Cit. Pluck down benches.

4 Cit. Pluck down forms, windows, anything.

\Exeunt Citizens, vjith the body.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 105

453. Auf. Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,
Take thou what course thou wilt ! — How now, fellow?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.

Ant. Where is he?

Serv. He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house.

457. Ant. And thither will I straight to visit him.
He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us anything.

458. Serv. I heard them say, Brutus and Cassius
Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.

459. Ant. Belike they had some notice of the people,
How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. {Exeunt.

SCENE III. — The same. A Street.

Enter Cinna the Poet.

460. Cin. I dreamt to-night, that I did feast with Caesar,
And things unlikely charge my fantasy.
I have no will to wander forth of cfeors,
Yet something leads me forth.

Enter Citizens.

1 Ctt. What is your name.?

2 Cit. Whither are you going?

3 Cit. Where do you dwell ?

4 Cit. Are you a married man, or a bachelor?
2 Cit. Answer every man directly.

I Cit. Ay, and briefly.
4 Cit. Ay, and wisely.

468. 3 Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best.

469. 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.

470. Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that
marry: — you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Pro-
ceed ; directly.

Cin. Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral.

/

'io6 Julius C^sar. [act rv.

1 Ctt. As a friend, or an enemy ?
Cin. As a friend.

2 Ctt. That matter is answered directly.
4 OV. For your dwelling, — briefly.
Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.

3 Ctt. Your name, Sir, truly,
Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna.

I Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator.
Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.

4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his
bad ve^'Ses.

482. Cin. I am not Cinna the conspirator.

483. 2 Cit. It is no matter, his name's Cinna ; pluck but
his name out of his heart, and turn him going.

3 Cit. Tear him, tear him ! Come, brands, ho I fire-
brands! To Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to
Decius' house, and some to Casca's : some to Ligarius' :
awayl gol [^Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. — The same. A Room in Antony's House.

Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a Table.

485. Ant. These many, then, shall die; their names are
pricked.

Oct. Your brother too must die. Consent you, Lep-
idus ?

Lep. I do consent.

Oct. Prick him down, Antony.

489. Lep Upon condition Publius shall not live,
Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.

490. 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.
Lep. What, shall I find you here ?

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 107

Oct. Or here, or at the Capitol. \Extt Lepidus.

493. 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 jou thought him ;
And took his voice who should be pricked to die
In our black sentence and proscription.

495. 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.
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 way;
And, having brought our treasure where we will,
Then take we down his load, and turn him oflf,
Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
And graze on commons.

Oct. You may do your will ;
But he's a tried and valiant soldier.

497. Ant. So is my horse, Octavius ; and, for that,
I do appoint him store of provender.

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 :

A barren-spirited fellow ; one that feeds

On objects, arts, 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,
Listen great things. — Brutus and Cassius
Are levying powers ; we must straight make head :
Therefore let our alliance be combined.
Our best friends made, and our best means stretched out;
And let us presently go sit in counsel,
How covert matters may be best disclosed,
And open perils surest answered.

498. Oct. Let us do so : for we are at the stake.

io8 Julius C^sar. [act iv.

And bayed about with many enemies ;

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,

Millions of mischiefs. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. — Before Brutus's Tent, in the Camp near
Sardis.

Drum. — Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Titinius, and Soldiers :
PiNDARUS meeting them : Lucius at a distance.

Bru. Stand, ho !

Lucil. Give the word, ho ! and stand.
501.' Bru. What now, Lucilius.? is Cassius near?
503. Lucil. He is at hand ; and Pindarus is come
To do you salutation from his mastfer.

[Pindarus gives a Letter to Brutus.
503. 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
But that my noble master will appear
Such as he is, full of regard and honor.

505. Bru. He is not doubted. — A word, Lucilius :
How he received you, let me be resolved.

506. Lucil. With courtesy, and with respect enough ;
But not with such familiar instances,

Nor with such free and friendly conference,
As he hath used of old.

507. Bru. Thou hast described

A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,

When love begins to sicken and decay,

It useth an enforced ceremony.

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,

They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,

Sink in the trial. Comes his army on ?

508. Lucil. They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered ;

I

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 109

The greater part, the horse in general,
Are come with Cassius. [MarcXt within.

509. Bru. Hark, he is arrived : —
March gently on to meet him.

Enter Cassius and Soldiers.

Cas. Stand, ho !

Bru. Stand, ho ! Speak the word along.

512. Within. Stand.

513. Within. Stand.

514. Within. Stand.

Cas. Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.

Bru. Judge me, jou gods ! Wrong I mine enemies ?
And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?

Cas. Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;

And when you do them

518. 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 ;
Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs.
And I will give you audience.

Cas. Pindarus,
Bid our commanders lead their charges off
A little from this ground.

520. Bru. Lucius, do you the like ; and let no man
Come to our tent, till we have done our conference.
Lucilius and Titinius, guard our door. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. — Within the Tent of Brutus.
Enter Brutus and Cassius.

521. 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.

Bru. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case.
523. Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet

That every nice offence should bear his comment.

no Julius Cjesar. [act iv.

524. Bru. Let me tell jou, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
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.
526. Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

Cas. Chastisement!

528. Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember !
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?

What villain touched his body, that did stab,
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
For so much trash as may be grasped thus? —
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon.
Than such a Roman,

529. Cas. Brutus, bay not me ;

I'll not endure it : you forget yourself,
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

530. Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cas. I am.

Bru. I say, you are not.

533. Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

534. Bru. Away, slight man !
Cas. Is't possible ?

536. 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?

Cas. O ye gods ! ye gods I Must I endure all this ?
538. 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 ?

t

I

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. iii

Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch
Under jour testy humour? 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 ?

540. Bru. You say you are a better soldier :
Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me v^^ell. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of abler men.

541 . Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus ;
I said an elder soldier, not a better :

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?

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.
550. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.
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 ; —
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
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.

112 Julius C^sar. [act iv.

Be readj, gods, with all your thunderbolts ;
Dash him to pieces !

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.
553. 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,
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.

558. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.

559. 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;

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

Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold :

If that thou beest 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 worst, thou lovedst him better

Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

560. Bru. Sheathe your dagger :

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ;
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire ;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

561. 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.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 113

Cas. Do jou confess so much? Give me your hand.

Bru. And mj heart too.

Cas. O Brutus! —

Bru. What's the matter?

567. Cas. Have not jou love enough to bear with me,
When that rash humour which mj mother gave me
Makes me forgetful ?

568. Bru. Yes, Cassius ; and from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

\^Noise luithin,

569. Poet. [ Within.'\ Let me go in to see the generals :
There is some grudge between 'em ; 'tis not meet
They be alone.

570. Lucil. [ Within.'\ You shall not come to them.
Poet. [ Within.'] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet.
Cas. How now? What's the matter?

573. 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.

574. Cas. Ha, ha ! how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme 1
Bru. Get you hence, sirrah ! saucy fellow, hence I
Cas. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion.

577. Bru. I'll know his humour when he knows his time.
What should the wars do with these jigging fools ?
Companion, hence !

Cas. Away ! away, be gone I \Exit Poet.

Enter Lucilius and Titinius.

579. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
[580. Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with
you.
Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.
Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Cas. 1 did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.
8

114 Julius Cjesar. [act iv.

Bru. No man bears sorrow better. — Portia is dead.

Cas. Ha! Portia?

Bru. She is dead.

588. Cas. How 'scaped I killing, when I crossed you so? —

0 insupportable and touching loss ! —
Upon what sickness ?

589. Bru. Impatient of my absence ;

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.
592. Cas. O ye immortal gods !

Enter Lucius, tvitk Wine and Takers.

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. —
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup ;

1 cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. {Drinks.

Re-enter Tit»nius, -with Messala.
595. Bru. Come in, Titinius. — Welcome, good Messala. —
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.
Cas. Portia, art thou gone ?

597. Bru. No more, I pray you. —
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

598. Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour.
Bru. With what addition ?

600. 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
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 115

Cas. Cicero one ?
603. Mes. Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription. —

Had jou your letters from your wife, my lord?

Bru. No, Messala.

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 you

Mes. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.

Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell :
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
612. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia. — We must die, Messala
With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure.

614. Cas. I have as much of this in art as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.

615. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think
Of marching to Philippi presently?

Cas. I do not think it good.
Bru. Your reason ?

618. 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.

619. Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to bettVv.
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,

By them shall make a fuller number up,

Come on refreshed, new-hearted, 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.
621. Bru. Under your pardon. — You must note besid«
That we have tried the utmost of our friends :

ii6 Julius C^sar. [act iv.

Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe ;

The enemj increaseth every day;

We, at the height, are ready to decline.

There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallow^s, and in miseries.

On such a full sea are we now afloat ;

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.

622. Cas. Then, with your will, go on ;

We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

623. Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
And nature must obey necessity ;

Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?

624. Cas. No more. Good night !

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

625. Bru. Lucius, my gown. l^xti Lucius.

Farewell, good Messala I —
Good night, Titinius! — Noble, noble Cassius,
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 1
Let it not, Brutus.

Bru. Everything is well.

Cas. Good night, my lord I

Bru. Good night, good brother I

Til. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus 1

Bru. Farewell, every one !

\_Exeunt Cassius, Titinius, and Messala*

Re-enter Lucius, tvith the Goivn.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Luc. Here, in the tent.

633. Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily?

Poor knave, I blame thee not ; thou art o'erwatched.
Call Claudius, and some other of my men;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

634. Luc. Varro and Claudius I

sc. in.] Julius C-^sar. 117

Enter Varro and Claudius.

Var. Calls my lord ?
636. Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my tent, and sleep ;
It may be, I shall raise you by and by
On business to my brother Cassius.

Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your
pleasure.
638. 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 ;
I put it in the pocket of my gown. [Servants lie dawn,
Luc. I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
640. 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 ?
Luc. 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.
644. Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might ;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
Luc. I have slept, my lord, already.
646. 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,
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;
fc^^ - I'll take it from thee ; and, good boy, good night.
Hl Let me see, let me see ; — is not the leaf turned down,

Enter the Ghost <7/'C^sar.

How ill this taper burns ! — Ha I who comes here?

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes

That shapes this monstrous apparition.

It comes upon me. — Art thou anything?

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,

ii8 Julius C^sar. [act iv.

That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.

647. Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

648. Bru. Why com'st thou ?

Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi.

650. Bru. Well ; then I shall see thee again ?

651. Ghost. Ay, at Philippi. [Ghost vanishes,

652. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. —
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest :

III spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. —

Boy ! Lucius I — Varro ! Claudius ! Sirs, awake I —

Claudius !

Luc. The strings, my lord, are false.

Bru. He thinks, he still is at his instrument. —
Lucius, awake !

Luc. My lord !

Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst
out.? .

Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

Bru. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?

Luc. Nothing, my lord.
660. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius. — Sirrah, Claudius I
Fellow thou ! awake I

Var. My lord I

Clau. My lord I

Bru. Why did you so cry out, Sirs, in your sleep?

Var. Clau. Did we, my lord ?

Bru. Ay: saw you anything ?

Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing.

Clau. Nor I, my lord.
668. Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius ;
Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
And we will follow.

Var, Clau. It shall be done, my lord. [JSxeunf*

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 119

ACTV.

SCENE I. — The Plains of PkiUpfi.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

670. 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,
Answering before we do demand of them.

671. 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

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;
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
And something to be done immediately.

673. Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on.
Upon the left hand of the even field.

674. Oct. Upon the right hand I ; keep thou the left.

675. Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent?

Oct. I do not cross you ; but I will do so. {March.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army ; LuciL-
lus, TiTiNius, Messala, and others.

677. Bru. They stand, and would have parley.

Cas. Stand fast, Titinius : we must out and talk.

679. Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?

680. Ant. 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 ?

Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do.

Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

I20 Julius C^sar. [act v.

Ant. In your bad sfrokes, Brutus, you give good words :
Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart,
Crying, Long live I Hail, Ccesar !
686. 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.

Bru. O, yes, and soundless too ;
For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony,
And, very wisely, threat before you sting.

689. Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile dag-

gers
Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar :
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 !

690. Cas. Flatterers ! — Now, Brutus, thank yourself:
This tongue had not offended so to-day,

If Cassius^might have ruled.

691. Oct. Come, come, the cause: if arguing make us

sweat.
The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Look!

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.

692. 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.
694. Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable.

Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honor,
Joined with a masker and a reveller.
Ant. Old Cassius still I
697. Oct. Come, Antony ; away I —

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 121

If you dare fight to-day, come to the field ;
If not, when you have stomachs.

{^Exeunt OcTAVius, ANTONY, and their army.
Cas. Why now, blow, wind ; swell, billow; and swim,
bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
699. Bru. Ho ! Lucilius ; hark, a word with you.
Lucil. My lord !

[Brutus and Lucilius converse apart.
Cas. Messala, —
Mes. What says my general ?
703. Cas. Messala,

This is my birth-day; as this very day
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.
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,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ;
Who to Philippi 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,
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.
705. Cas. I but believe it partly ;

For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved
To meet all perils very constantly.
Bru. Even so, Lucilius.
707. Cas. Now, most noble Brutus,

The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age 1
But, since the affairs of men rest still uncertain,
Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose this battle, then is this

122 Julius C^sar. [act v.

The very last time we shall speak together :
What are you then determined to do ?
708. Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy,
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 term of life ; — arming myself with patience,
To stay the providence of those 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 ?
710. Bru. No, Cassius, no : think not, thou noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ;
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 : —
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 ;
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 I
But it suflSceth that the day will end,
And then the end is known. — Come, ho I away !

»
SCENE II. — The same. The Field of Battle.

Alarum. — Enter Brutus and Messala.

713. 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 demeanour in Octavius' wing.
And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
Ride, ride, Messala : let them all come down. \_E9teunt.

I

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 123

SCENE III. — The same. Another pari of the Field,
Alarums. — Enter Cassius and Titinius.

714. Cas. O, look, Titinius, look; the villains fly!
Myself have to mine own turned enemy :

This ensign here of mine was turning back;
I slew the coward, and did take it from him.

715. Tit. O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early;
Who, having some advantage on Octavius,

Took it too eagerly; his soldiers fell to spoil,
Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.

Enter Pindarus.

716. Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further oflf;
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord !
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?

Tit. They are, my lord.
719. Cas. Titinius, if thou lov'st me,

Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops
And here again ; that I may rest assured,
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.

Tit. I will be here again even with a thought. \Extt.
721. Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
My sight was ever thick ; regard Titinius,
And tell me what thou not'st about the field. —

\^Exit Pindarus.
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?

Pin. \Above.'\ O my lord !

Cas. What news ?
724. Pin. Titinius is enclosed round about

With horsemen, that make to him on the spur; —
Yet he spurs on. — Now they are almost on him.
Now, Titinius ! —

Now some light : — O, he lights too : — \Sk(mi»

He's ta'en ; — and, hark ! ^

They shout for joy.

124 Julius C^sar. [act v.

725. Cas. Come down ; behold no more.
O, coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta'en before my face 1

Enter Pindarus.

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 I

Now be a freeman ; and with this good sword,

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. — Caesar, thou art revenged,

Even with the sword that killed thee. \^Dtes.

Pin. 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. {Exit,

Re-enter TiTiNros, luitJt Messala.

727. Mes. Itjs but change, Titinius ; for Octavius
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius.

Mes. Where did you leave him ?

Tit. All disconsolate,
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

Mes. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground?

Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart I

Mes. Is not that he .''

734. Tit. No, this was he, Messala ;

But Cassius is no more. — O setting sun !

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 1

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.

735. Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
O hateful Error I Melancholy's child I

I

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 125

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O Error, soon conceived,
Thou never com'st unto a happy birth,
But kill'st the mother that engendered thee.

Tit. 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 ;
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
As tidings of this sight.
738. Tit. Hie you, Messala,

And I will seek for Pindarus the while. {Exit MesSALA.

Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius.f*

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 misconstrued everything.
But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
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. \Dies.

Alarum. — Re-enter Messala, tvith Brutus, young QKto^
Strato, Volumnius, flW^LuCILIUS.

Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
740. Mes. Lo, yonder; and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.
Cato. He is slain.

743. Bru. O Julius Cajsar, thou art mighty yet I
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords

In our own proper entrails. \_L.o-w alarums*

744. Cato. Brave Titinius !

Look, whe'r he have not crowned dead Cassius I
745* Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these? —
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well I
It is impossible that ever Rome
Should breed thy fellow. — Friends, I owe moe tears

126 Julius Cjesar. [act v.

To this dead man, than you shall see me pay. —

I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time. —

Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body :

His funerals shall not be in our camp,

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.

SCENE IV. — Another i>art of the Field.

Alarum. — Enter ^ fightings Soldiers of both Armies ; then
Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads !
747. Cato. What bastard doth not.'* Who will go with me?
I will proclaim vcvy name about the field : —
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho !
A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend ;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! [^Charges the enemy.

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
Brutus, my country's friend ; know me for Brutus.

{_Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is
overpowered, and falls.
Lucil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ;
And mayst be honored, being Cato's son.

1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest.

751. 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.

752. I Sold. We must not. — A noble prisoner !

2 Sold. Room, ho ! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
754. I 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.

sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 127

I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The gods defend him from so great a shame !
When you do find him, or alive or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
757. 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 whe'r Brutus be alive or dead ;
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent
How everything is chanced. \Exeunt

SCENE V, — Another fart of the Field.
Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and

VOLUMNIUS.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

C//. Statilius showed the torch-light ; but, my lord,
He came not back : he is or ta'en or slain.
760. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. —

[ Whispering.

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 ! [ Whispers him,

Dar. Shall I do such a deed?

Cli. O Dardanius I

Dar. O Clitus !

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?

Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
770. 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.

Vol. What says my lord?
773. Bru. Why, this, Volumnius :

The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me
Two several times by night : at Sardis, once j
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields.
I know my hour is come.

128 Julius C^sar. [act v.

Vol. Not so, my lord.
775. JBru. Naj, I am sure it is, Volumnius.

Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes ;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit : [Zow alarums.
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves
Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
Thou know'st, that we two went to school together;
Even for that our love of old, I pr'ythee.
Hold thou my sword hilts whilst I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

{^Alarum still.
T2^. CU. Fly, fly, my lord ; there is no tarrying here.
778. Bru. Farewell to you ; — and you ; — and you, Vo-
lumnius. —
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.
I shall have glory by this losing day.
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once : for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history.
Night hangs upon mine eyes ; my bones would rest,
That have but laboured to attain this hour.

{^Alarum. Cry -witkin, Fly, fly, fly I
CU. Fly, my lord, fly !
780. Bru. Hence ! I will follow.

[^Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.
I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.
Thou art a fellow of a good respect ;
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?

Sira. Give me your hand first: fare you well, my

lord.
Bru. Farewell, good Strato. — Caesar, now be still :
I killed not thee with half so good a will.

[He runs on his sivord and dies.

sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 129

p Alarum. — Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala,
LuciLius, and their 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 ;
For Brutus only overcame himself,
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.

787. Oct. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

788. Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Oct. Do so, good Messala.

790. Mes, How died my master, Strato ?

Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.

792. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my master.

793. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators, save only he.

Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He only, in a generous honest thought
JOf common good to all, made one of them.

IHis 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! .
^,^^X)ct. 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 like a soldier, ordered honorably. —
So, call the field to rest ; and let's away.
To part the glories of this happy day. \ExeunL

PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY

ON

Shakespearfs Julius Caesar.

ACT I.

Scene I. — The heading here in the original text
is: — ''''Actus Primus. Scoena Prima, Enter
Flavius^ Murellus^ and certaine Commoners over
the Staged Murellus stands throughout not only
in all the Folios, but also in the editions of both
Rowe and Pope. The right name was first in-
serted by Theobald.

Thi^ opening scene may be compared with the
first part of that of Coriolanus^ to which it bears a
strong general resemblance.

I. Tou ought not walk. — The history and expla-
nation of this now disused construction may be best
collected from a valuable paper by Dr. Guest " On
English Verbs, Substantive and Auxiliary," read
before the Philological Society, 13th March, 1846,
and printed in their Proceedings^ II. 223. " Origi-
nally," says Dr. Guest, " the to was prefixed to the
gerund, but never to the present infinitive ; as,
however, the custom gradually prevailed of using
the latter in place of the former, the to was more
and more frequently prefixed to the infinitive, till it

(131)

132 Philological Commentary. [act i.

came to be considered as an almost necessary appen-
dage of it. Many idioms, however, had sunk too
deeply into the language to admit of alteration ; and
other phrases, to which the popular ear had been
familiarized, long resisted the intrusive particle."
The ancient syntax is still retained in all cases with
the auxiliary verbs, as they are called, shall^ will^
ca?t^ may^ do^ and also with must and let^ and oftener
than not with bid^ dare^ have^ hear^ make^ see^ and
perhaps some others. Cause is frequently so used ;
and so is Iielp, sometimes, — as in Milton's Sonnet
to his friend Lawrence : —

Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire
Help waste a sullen day ?

But, even since the language may be said to have
entered upon the stage of its existence in which it
still is, several of the verbs just enumerated as not
admitting the to are occasionally found following the
common example and taking it ; and others, again,
which at the present day have completely conformed
to the ordinary construction, formerly used now and
then to dispense with it. One of Dr. Guest's quota-
tions exemplifies both these archaisms ; it is from the
portion of The Mirror for Magistrates contributed
by John Higgins in 1574 {King Alb anact, 16) : —

And, though we owe the fall of Troy requite,
Yet let revenge thereof from gods to light.

That is, " Though we ought to requite, . . . yet let
revenge light," as we should now say. Here we
have let with the to^ and owe (of which ought or
owed is the preterite), as in Shakespeare's expression
before us, without it. Others of Dr. Guest's citations
from the same writer exhibit the auxiliaries may^
will^ can, with the to. And he also produces from
Spenser (/^. jg., iv. 7. 32), —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 133

Whom when on ground she grovelling saw to roll;
and from Shakespeare {Othello^ iv. 2), —

I durst, ray Lord, to wager she is honest.
Other verbs that are found in Shakespeare some-
times construed in the saxne manner are endure^
forbid^ znte?id^ vouchsafe ; as, —

The treason that my haste forbids me show.

Rich. II., V. 3.

How long within this wood intend you stay?

Mid. N. Dr., ii. i.

Your betters have endured me say my mind.

Tain, of Skrerw, iv. 3.

Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word.

Com. of Er.f v. i.

The verb to owe.^ it may further be observed, is
etymologically the * same with own. Shakespeare
repeatedly has owe w^here own would be now em-
ployed ; as in lago's diabolical self-gratulation (in
Othello^ iii. 3) : —

Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrops of the world.
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou owedst yesterday.

The Saxon word is (igmi., — the ag., or radical part, of
which is evidently the same with the ^x of the Greek
^';^fii', signifying to hold, to possess, to have for one's
property, or what we call one's own. If we sup-
pose the a to have been pronounced broad, as in our
modem «//, and the g to have come to be softened
as ^ final usually is in modern German, ag and owe.,
unlike as they are to the eye, will be only different
ways of spelling, or representing by letters, almost
the same vocal utterance. The sound which the
vowel originally had is more nearly preserved in the
Scotch form of the word, awe. The n which we

134 ■ Philological Commentary. [act i.

have in the form own is either merely the common
annexation which the vowel sound is apt to seek as
a support or rest for itself, or, probably, in this case
it may be the en of the ancient past participle {agen)
or the an of the infinitive {aga7i). So we have both
to awake and to awaken^ to ope and to open. In so
short a word as the one under consideration, and one
in such active service, these affixes would be the
more liable to get confoundec^ with the root. It may
sound odd to speak of a man as owning what he
owes; yet, if we will think of it, there are few things
that can rightly be said to be more a man's own than
his debts ; they are emphatically proper to him, or
his property^ clinging to him, as they do, like a part
of himself Again, that which a man owns in this
sense, or owes., is that which it is proper for him, or
which he has^ to perform or to discharge (as the
case may be) ; hence the secondary meaning of
ought as applied to that which is one's duty, or
which is fitting. [See Latham's English Lan-
guage^ Fifth Edition, (1862), §§ 599, 605, 606, 727;
and Marsh, Lectures on English Language^ First
r Series, pp. 320-325.]

j^fcv^ I. Upo7i a labouring day. — Laboring is here a
1 substantive, not a participle. It is as when we say

^ that we love laboring, or that laboring is conducive
to health of mind as well as of body. It is not
meant that the day labors ; as when we speak of a
laboring man, or a laboring ship, or a laboring
line —

(When Ajax strives some rock's vast w^eight to throw,
The line too labours, and the words move slow).

A laboring day is an expression of the same kind
with a walking sticky or a riding coat; in which it
is not asserted that' the stick walks, or that the coat

V

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 135

rides ; but, two substantives being conjoined, the one
characterizes or qualifies the other, — performs, in
fact, the part of an adjective, — just as happens in
the expressions a gold ring^ a leather ap7'on, a
morning call^ the evening bells.

An expression used by Cowper (in his verses
composed in the name of Alexander Selkirk), "the
sound of the church-going bell," has been passion-
ately reprobated by Wordsworth. " The epithet
church-goifig applied to a bell," observes the critic
(in an Appendix upon the subject of Poetic Diction,
first attached, I believe, in 1820 to the Preface origi-
nally published with the Second Edition of the Lyri-
cal Ballads^ 1800), " and that by so chaste a writer
as Cowper, is an instance of the strange abuses
which poets have introduced into their language, till
they and their readers take them as matters of course,
if they do not single them out expressly as matters
of admiration." A church-going bell is merely a
bell for church-going; and the expression is con-
structed on the same principle with a thousand others
that are and always have been in familiar use ; —
such as a marauding expedition, a banking or a
house-building speculation, a writing desk, a looking
glass, a dining room, a dancing school, a dwelling
house, etc., etc. What would Wordsworth have
said to such a daring and extreme employment of
the same form as we have in Shakespeare, where he
makes Cleopatra (in Antony and Cleofatra^ iii. ii)
say, speaking of the victorious Caesar, —

From his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt ?

But these audacities of language are of the very soul
of poetry.

The peculiar class of substantives under consider-

136 Philological Commentary. [act i.

ation cannot, properly speaking, be regarded as even
present participles in disguise. Their true history
has been given for the first time by Mr. Richard
Taylor in his Additional Notes to Tooke's Diver-
sions of Purley^ 1829 and 1840; see edition of
1840 [or i860], pp. xxxix.-liv. The termination of
the present participle in Saxon w^as ende; and when
that part of the verb w^as used substantively it de-
noted the agents or performer of the verbal act.
Thus, Haeland signified the Healer, or Saviour ;
Scypfend^ the Shaper, or Creator. Ing or ung^ on
the other hand, was the regular termination of that
description of verbal substantive which denoted the
act. Thus jBrennung was what in Latin would be
called Co7nhustio^ and what in our modern English
is still called the Burning. In other tongues of the
same Gothic stock to which our own in part belongs,
both forms are still preserved. In German, for in-
stance, we have end for the termination universally
of the present participle, and ung for that of a nu-
merous class of verbal substantives all signifying the
act or thing done. It never could have been sup-
posed that in that language these verbal substantives
in ung were present participles.

But in English the fact is, as Mr. Taylor has
observed, that it is not the verbal substantive de-
noting the act which has assumed the form of the
present participle, but the latter which has thrown
away its own proper termination and adopted that
of the former. This change appears to have com-
menced as early as the twelfth century, and to have
been completely established by the fourteenth. Even
after the middle of the sixteenth century, however,
we have the old distinction between the two termina-
tions (the end or and for the present participle, or

sc. I.] • Julius Cjesar. 137

the agent, and the ing for the verbal act) still adhered
to by the Scottish writers.

[One might infer from this statement that the dis-
tinction was uniformly regarded by Scottish writers
of the sixteenth century. What Mr. Taylor says is
this : " Though the use of ing for the present parti-
ciple was fully established in the fourteenth century,
the age of Langland, Chaucer, and Wiclif, yet the
ancient ande was still occasionally used, both being
found in the same writers, and sometimes in the very
same sentence ; and in the North, to the end of the
sixteenth century."

The following are examples of the two endings
appropriately used in the same sentence : —

Hors, or hund, or othir thing
That war plesawt/ to thar X\\.ing.

Barbour (i357)-
Full low inclinawf/ to their queen full clear
Whom for their noble nourish/;/^ they thank.

Dunbar {Ellis's Spec).

Our sovereign hava«^ her majesty's promise be ynxttng
of lufF, friendship, etc.

Lord Herries (1568, quoted by Robertson).

The following are examples of the indiscriminate
use of these endings : —

herdes of oxin and of fee,

Fat and tidy, rakand over all quhare,
In the rank gers pastur/w^ on raw.

Garvin Douglas.

Changy/z^ in sorrow our sang melodious,
Quhilk we had wont to sing with good intent
Resoundawf/ to the hevinnis firmament.

Sir D. Lyndsay (1528).

I may add that in- Gower (Pauli's ed.) the pre-
vailing form of the participle is -ende; while in
Chaucer (Wright's ed.) -ing is the ending. Mr.

138 Philological Commentary. [act i.

Taylor says, " It requires a long search in Chaucer's
works to find a participle in ande''

See also Marsh, Led. on Eng. Lang.^ First
Series, pp. 649-658.]

I. What trade art thou? — The rationale of this
v^ode of expression may be seen from the answer to
the question : '-'- Why, Sir, a carpenter." The trade
and the person practising it are used indifterently
the one for the other: "What trade art thou?" is
equivalent to " What tradesman art thou?" So in
6 we have — "A trade . . . which is, indeed, a
mender of bad soles." The thou., as here and in
5, 7, 9, II, 13, was still common in the English of
Shakespeare's age ; it was the ordinary form in
addressing an inferior ; only when he. was treated,
or affected to be treated, as a gentleman, the me-
chanic received the more honorable compilation of
you; — as in 3, "You, Sir., what trade are you?"
Thou., Sir., would have been incongruous in the
circumstances.

6. Soles. — Quasi souls; — an immemorial quib-
ble, doubtless. It is found also (as Malone notes) in
Fletcher's Wo?nan Pleased. Yet we might seem to
have a distinction of pronunciation between soul and
sole indicated in The Merchant of Venice., iv. i,
" Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew."

7. This speech in the old copies is given to
JPlavius; and it is restored to him by Mr. Knight,
who observes that the modern editors " assume
that only one of the tribunes should take the lead ;
whereas it is clear that the dialogue is more natural,
certainly more dramatic, according to the original
arrangement, where Flavins and Marullus alter-
nately rate the people, like two smiths smiting" on
the same anvil." But this will not explain or ac-

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 139

count for the " mend me'^ of Marullus in 9. That
proves beyond controversy that the preceding speech
(8) was addressed to Marullus ; and it is equally
clear that the you of speech 8 is the person to whom
speech 7 belongs. The rating, besides, is as much
alternate, or intermingled, in the one way as in the
other : Mr. Knight gives six speeches to Flavins and
five to Marullus ; the common arrangement gives
five to Flavins and six to Marullus. [Collier, Dyce,
and White give the speech to Marullus ; Hudson, to
Flavins.]

8. Be not out with ine; yet^ if you be out. — The
two senses of being out are obvious : '' They are out
with one another," or, simply, " They are out ; " and
" He is out at the elbows," or in any other part of
his dress.

9. Mend me. — The answer shows that mend, not
me, is the emphatic word.

1 2. But with awl. — Mr. Knight and Mr. Collier
[and Hudson] print " with all." This, apparently,
would accord with Farmer's notion, who maintains
that the true reading is, "I meddle with no trade,
man's matters," etc., unTierstandmg with awl, or
with all, i suppose, to involve, as one of its mean-
ings, that of " with all trades." The original read-
ing [which White adopts] is, " but withal I am
indeed. Sir, a surgeon," etc. And the Second Folio
has " woman's matters."

12. As proper men. — A. proper man is a man
such as he should be. In The Tempest, ii. 2, we
have the same expression that we have here distrib-
uted into two successive speeches of the drunken
Stephano : — "As proper a man as ever went on four
legs ; " and " Any emperor that ever trod on neat's
leather."

140 Philological Commentary. [act i.

[A proper man, a proper fellow, a proper gentle-
woman, etc., are very common expressions in Shake-
speare. See Mrs. Clarke's Concordance. Compare
Hebrews., xi. 23. For the word in its other sense,
one's own, peculiar, see 45 and 743 ; also, i Chron.
xxix. 3 ; Acts i. 19 ; i Cor. vii. 7.]

15. Wherefore rejoice? etc. — This was in the
beginning of B. C. 44 (A. U. C. 709), when Caesar,
having returned from Spain in the preceding Octo-
ber, after defeating the sons of Pompey at the Battle
of Munda (fought 17th March, B. C. 45), had been
appointed Consul for the next ten years and Dictator
for life. The festival of the Lupercalia, at which he
was offered and declined the crown, was celebrated
13th February, B. C. 44; and he was assassinated
15th March following, being in his fifty-sixth year.

15. Many a time and oft. — This old phrase,
which is still familiar, may be held to be equivalent
to many and many a time, that is, many times and
yet again many more times. The old pointing of
this line is, " Knew you not Pompey many a time
and oft?" It is like what all the Folios give us in
Macbeth., i. 5 : —

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters, to beguile the time.

What follows, — "Have you climbed up," etc., —
is, of course, made a second question.

15. That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
— The proper antecedent of that {so., or in such
wise) is left unexpressed, as sufficiently obvious. —
Some of the modern editors have taken the unwar-
rantable liberty of changing her into his in this line
and the next but one, because Tiber is masculine in
Latin. This is to give us both language and a con-
ception difierent from Shakespeare's.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 141

15. Made in her concave shores. — An imperfect
line (or hemistich, as it is commonly called), but
prosodically regular so far as it goes, which is all we
have a right to look for. The occasional use of such
shortened lines would seem to be, at least in dramatic
poetry, one of the proper and natural prerogatives
of blank verse, according well, as it does, with the
variety of pause and cadence which makes the dis-
tinctive charm of verse of that form. But, appar-
ently, it need not be assumed, as is always done,
tliat the fragment must necessarily be in all cases the
beginning of a line. Why should not the poet be
supposed sometimes, when he begins a new sentence
or paragraph in this manner, to intend that it should
be connected, in the prosody as well as in the mean-
ing, with what follows, not with what precedes? A
few lines lower down, ^x instance, the words " Be
gone " might be either the first foot of the verse or
the last.

16. Weep your tears, — We should scarcely now
speak of weeping tears absolutely, though we might
say " to weep tears of blood, or of agony, or of bit-
terness," or " to weep an ocean of tears, or our fill
of tears." This sense of the verb weep is quite dis-
tinct from the sense it commonly has when used
transitively, which is to weep for, or to lament i, as
when in Cymbeline (i. 5) lachimo speaks of " those
that weep this lamentable divorce." It more resem-
bles what we have in the phrases To sin the sin, To
die the death. To sing a song; — expressive forms,
to which the genius of our tongue has never been
very prone, and to which it is now decidedly averse.
They owe their effect, in part, indeed, to a certain
naturalness, or disregard of strict propriety, which a
full-grown and educated language is apt to feel

142 Philological Commentary. [act i.

ashamed of as something rustic or childish. Per-
haps, however, a distinction should be drawn be-
tween such an expression as To weef tears and
such as To sin a sin^ To sing a song^ in which the
verb is merely a synonymk for to act, to perform, to
execute. [Compare Milton's " tears such as angels
weep." P. L. i. 620.]

16. Till the lowest stream^ etc. — In the do kiss
we have a common archaism, the retention of the
auxiliary, now come to be regarded, when it is not
emphatic, as a pleonasm enfeebling the expression,
and consequently denied alike to the writer of prose
and to the writer of verse. It is thus in even a worse
predicament than the separate pronunciation of the
final ed in the preterite indicative or past participle
passive. In the age of Shakespeare they were both,
though beginning to be abandoned, still part and
parcel of the living language, and instances of both
are numerous in the present Play. The modern
forms probably were as yet completely established
only in the spoken language, which commonly goes
before that which is written and read, in such eco-
nomical innovations. — For the modern stage direc-
tion Exeunt Citizens^ the original text has here
Exeunt all the Commoners.

16. See whe^r their basest metal. — Whe'r is
whether. The contraction is common both in
Shakespeare and in other writers of his age. [So
in earlier writers, as Chaucer and Gower.] Thus
we have, in his 59th Sonnet^ —

Whether we are mended, or ivhe'r better they,*
Or whether revolution be the same.

* [Collier adopts the reading of the edition of 1609,
" Whether we are mended, or where better they," meaning,

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 143

In the old copies the word, when thus contracted, is
usually printed exactly as the adverb of place always
is, ivhere. But if it were to be here spelled whether
at full length, and pronounced as a dissyllable, we
should have no more of prosodical irregularity than
we have in many other lines. And it is occasionally
in similar circumstances so presented in the old copies.
l6. Decked with eeremonies. — To deck (the same
witn the Latin teg-ere and the German deck-en)
signifies property no more than to cover. Hence the
deck of a ship. Thatch (the German Dach) is
another formation from the same root. To deck^
therefore, has no connection with to decorate^ which
is of the same stock with decent (from the Latin
decus^ or decor ^ and decet). The supposition that
there was a connection, however, has probably
helped to acquire for deck its common acceptation,
which now always involves the notion of decoratiorj
or adornment. And that was also its established
sense when Shakespeare wrote. By ceremonies
must here be meant what are afterwards in 18
called " Caesar's trophies," and are described in 95
as '' scarfs " which were hung on Caesar's images.
No other instance of this use of the word, however,
is produced by the commentators. In our common
English the meaning of ceremony has been extended
so as to include also forms of civility and outward
forms of state. We have it in that sense in 27. And
we shall find lower down that Shakespeare uses it
in still another sense, which is peculiar to himself,
or which has now at least gone out. [White gives
''ceremony" here.] See 194.

as he thinks, " in what respects they are better." All the
other editors, I believe, give w^eV, or 'whtr.'\

144 Philological Commentary. [act i.

17. The feast of Lufercal. — The Roman festi-
val of the Lufercalia {-ium or -iorum) was in
honor of the old Italian god Lupercus, who came to
be identified with Pan. It was celebrated annually
on the Ides (or 13th) of February. A third com-
pany of Luferci^ or priests of Pan, with Antony
for its chief, was instituted in honor of Julius
Caesar.

18. Will make him Jly. — A modern sentence
constructed in this fashion would constitute the him
the antecedent to the who^ and give it the meaning
of the person generally who (in this instance) else
would soar, etc., or whoever would. But it will be
more accordant with the style of Shakespeare's day
to leave the him, unemphatic, and to regard Ccesar
as being the antecedent to who. It was not then so
unusual, or accounted so inelegant, as it would now
be, in our more precise and straitened syntax, thus
to separate the relative from its true antecedent by
the interposition of another false or apparent one, or
to tack on the relative clause to the completed state-
ment as if it had been an afterthought. Thus, again
in the present Play, we have, in 703, —

Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ;
Who to Philippi here consorted us ;

and in 715, —

O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early ;
Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
Took it too eagerly.

Scene II. — .The original heading here is : —
''''Enter Ccesar^ Antony for the Course^ Calphurnia^
Portia^ Decius^ Cicero^ Brutus^ Cassius^ Caska, a

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 145

Soothsayer : after tJiem Murellus and Flavins'^
The three stage directions about the Music are all
modern.

23. Stand you directly^ etc. — The sacerdotal
runners wore only a cincture of goatskins, the same
material of which their thongs were made. The
passage in Plutarch's Life of Julius Caesar as trans-
lated by Sir Thomas North is as follows : —

At that time the feast Lupercalia was celebrated, the
which in old time, men say, was the feast of Shepherds or
Herdsmen, and is much like unto the feast of Ljceians
\^Avxiia\ in Arcadia. But, howsoever it is, that day there are
divers noblemen's sons, young men (and some of them ma-
gistrates themselves that govern them), which run naked
through the city, striking in sport them they meet in their
way with leather thongs. And many noble women and
gentlewomen also go of purpose to stand in their way, and
do put forth their hands to be stricken, persuading them-
selves that, being with child, they shall have good delivery,
and also, being barren, that it will make them conceive with
child. Caesar sat to behold that sport upon the pulpit for
orations, in a chair of gold, apparelled in triumphant man-
ner. Antonius, who was Consul at that time, was one of
them that ronne this holy course.

Here, and in 25, as generally throughout the Play,
Antonius is Antonio in the original text, and in all
the editions down to that of Pope.

32. The Ides of March. — In the Roman Kalen-
dar the Ides {Idiis) fell on the 15th of March, May,
July, and October, and on the 13th of the eight
remaining months.

34. A soothsayer^ bids. — That is. It is a sooth-
sayer, who bids. It would not otherwise be an
answer to Caesar's question. The omission of the
relative in such a construction is still common.
[All the editors omit the comma here.]

39. The old stage direction here is — ^^ Sennet*
10

146 Philological Commentary. [act i.

Exeunt. Manet Brut, et Cass.^^ The word
Sennet is also variously written Sennit^ Senet,
Syn7tet^ Cynet^ Signet^ and Signate. Nares ex-
plains it as " a word chiefly occurring in the stage
directions of the old plays, and seeming to indicate
a particular set of notes on the trumpet, or cornet,
different from a flourish." In Shakespeare it occurs
again in the present Play at 67, in the heading to
Antony and Cleopatra., ii. 7? in Henry VIII.., ii. 4,
and in Coriolanus., i. i and 2, where in the first
scene we have "A Sennet. Trumpets sound." In
the heading of the second scene of the fifth act of
Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of Malta we have
" Synnet., i. e. Flourish of Xrumpets.^' But in
Dekker's Sat iromastix {1602) we have "Trumpets
sound a flourish, and then a sennet." Steevens
says, " I have been informed that sennet is derived
from senneste^ an antiquated French tune formerly
used in the army ; but the Dictionaries which I have
consulted exhibit no such word."

44. That gentleness . . . as I was., etc. — We
should now say " that gentleness that I was wont to
have." It is not very long since the conjunction as was
used at least in one case in which we now always em-
ploy//^iz/f. ^''So — as^^ says Bishop Lowth {Introd.
to Eng. Gram.)., "was used by the writers of the
last (17th) century to express a consequence, in-
stead of so — that. Swift [who died 1745], I believe,
is the last of our good writers who has frequently
used this manner of expression."

44. Over your friend that loves you. — It is
friends in the Second Folio.

45. Merely upon myself. — Merely (from the
Latin merus and mere) means purely, only. It
separates that which it designates or qualifies from

sc. II.] Julius C-^sar. 147

everything else. But in so doing the chief or most
emphatic reference may be made either to that which
is included, or to that which is excluded. In modem
English it is always to the latter ; by " merely upon
myself" we should now mean upon nothing else
except myself; the nothing else is that which the
merely makes prominent. In Shakespeare's day the
other reference was the more common, that namely
to what was included ; and " merely upon myself"
meant upon myself altogether, or without regard to
anything else. Myself was that which the merely
made prominent. So when Hamlet, speaking of the
world, says (i. 2), " Things rank and gross in nature
possess it merely ^^ he by the merely brings the pos-
session before the mind, and characterizes it as com-
plete and absolute ; but by the same term now the
prominence would be given to something else from
which the possession might be conceived to be
separable; "possess it merely" would mean have
nothing beyond simply the possession of it (have, it
might be, no right to it, or no enjoyment of it). It
is not necessary that that which is included, though
thus emphasized, should therefore be more definitely
conceived than that with which it is contrasted. So,
again, when in Henry VIII, ^ iii. 2, the Earl of
Surrey charges Wolsey with having sent large sup-
plies of substance to Rome " to the mere undoing
of all the kingdom," he means to the complete
undoing of all the kingdom, to nothing less than
such undoing ; but in our modern English the words
would sound as if the speaker's meaning were, to
nothing more than the undoing of tHe kingdom.
The m,ere would lead us to think of something else,
some possible aggravation of the undoing (such, for

148 Philological Commentary. [act i.

instance, as the disgrace or infamy), from which
that was to be conceived as separated.

The use of merely here is in exact accordance
with that of mere in Othello^ ii. 2, where the Herald
proclaims the tidings of what he calls " the mere
perdition of the Turkish fleet " (that is, the entire
perdition or destruction). In Helena's " Ay, surely,
mere the truth," in AWs Well that Ends Well^ iii.
5, m,ere would seem to ha.ve the sense of m.erely
(that is, simply, exactly), if there be no misprint.

Attention to such changes of import or effect,
slight as they may seem, which many words have
undergone, is indispensable for the correct under-
standing of our old writers. Their ignorance of the
old sense of this same word fnerely has obscured a
passage in Bacon to his modern editors. In his 58th
Essay^ entitled " Of Vicissitudes of Things," he
says, "As for conflagrations and great droughts,
they do not merely dispeople and destroy " — mean-
ing, as the train of the reasoning clearly requires,
that they do not altogether do so. Most of the edi-
tors (Mr. Montague included) have changed " and
destroy " into " but destroy ; " others leave out the
" not " before merely; either change being subver-
sive of the meaning of the passage and inconsistent
with the context. [Spedding and Ellis's edition has
and; Whately's, but^^ The reading of the old
copies is confirmed by the Latin translation, done
under Bacon's own superintendence : " Illae popu-
lum penitus non absorbent aut destruunt."

So in the 3d Essay ^ " Of Unity in Religion,"
when we are told that extremes would be avoided
" if the points fundamental and of substance in re-
ligion were truly discerned and distinguished from
points not merely of faith, but of opinion, order, or

sc. II.] Julius C-^sar. 149

good intention," the meaning is, from points not
altogether of faith, — not, were distinguished not
only from points of faith, as a modern reader would
be apt to understand it.

45. Passions of some diffei'cnce. — The meaning
seems to be, of some discordance, somewhat con-
flicting passions. So we have, a few lines after,
"poor Brutus, with himself at war."
. 45 . Conceptions only proper to myself. — Thoughts
and feelings relating exclusively to myself. [See 12.]

45. To my behaviours. — We have lost this plural.
But we still say, though with some difference of
meaning, both " My manner " and " My manners."

45. Be you one. — There are various kinds of
beings or of existing. What is here meant is. Be
in your belief and assurance ; equivalent to. Rest
assured that you are.

45. Nor construe any further my neglect. — P'ur-
ther is the word in the old copies ; but Mr. Collier,
I observe, in his one volume edition prints farther,
[Dyce and Hudson, further ; White, as elsewhere,
farther.'] It is sometimes supposed that, ^s farther
answers to far^ so further answers to forth. But
far and forth^ or fore^ are really only different
forms of the same word, diflerent corruptions or
modernizations of the Saxon feor or forth. [^Par,
both adjective and adverb, is from the Saxon feor.
Further is from furthre^ furthor^ comparative of
forth^ firth. Farther is a .modern variation of
further., suggested of course hy far ^ and is the form
preferred by many writers to express distance. See
Graham, English Synonymes (Amer. ed.), and note
the illustrative passages under these words.]

46. / have much mistook your passio7z. — That
is, the feeling under which you are suflering. Pa-

150 Philological Commentary. [act i.

tience and passion (both from the Latin fatior)
equally mean suffering ; the notions of quiet and of
agitation which they have severally acquired, and
which have made the common signification of the
one almost the opposite of that of the other, are
merely accidental adjuncts. It may be seen, how-
ever, from the use of the word passion here and in
the preceding speech, that its proper meaning was
not so completely obscured and lost sight of in
Shakespeare's day as it has come to be in ours,
when it retains the notion of suffering only in two
or three antique expressions ; such as, the iliac pas-
sion^ and the passion of our Saviour (with Passion
Week). — Though it is no longer accounted correct
to say, I have mistook^ or I have wrote^ such forms
were in common use even till far on in the last cen-
tury. Nor has the analogy of the reformed manner
of expression been yet completely carried out. In
some cases we have even lost the more correct form
after having once had it : we no longer, for instance,
say, I have stricken^ as they did in Shakespeare's
day, but only, I have struck.

47. But by re/lection, etc. — The " other things "
must, apparently, if we interpret the words with
reference to their connection, be the reflectors or
mirrors spoken of by Cassius. Taken by itself,
however, the expression might rather seem to mean
that the eye discovers its own existence by its power
of seeing other things. The verse in the present
speech is thus ingeniously broken up in the original

edition : —

No Cassius :
For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection,
Bj some other things.

It may still be suspected that all is not quite right,

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 151

and possibly some words have dropped out. " By
reflection, by some other things," is hardly Shake-
speare's style. It is not customary with him to em-
ploy a word which he finds it necessary thus to
attempt immediately to amend, or supplement, or
explain, by another. — It is remarkable that in the
first line of this speech the three last Folios turn the
itself into himself. [White reads " thing."]

There is a remarkable coincidence, both of thought
and of expression, between what we have here and
the following passage in Troilus a?id Cressida^ iii.

Nor doth the eye itself,
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself.

And it may be worth noting that these lines appear
only in the two original Quarto editions of the Play
(1609), and are not in any of the Folios.

48. Ma?iy of the best respect. — A lost phrase, no
longer permissible even in poetry, although our only
modern equivalent is the utterly unpoetical " many
persons of the highest respectability," So, again, in
the present Play, we have in 779, " Thou art a fellow
of a good respect."

50. Therefore^ good Brutus^ etc. — The eager,
impatient temper of Cassius, absorbed in his own
one idea, is vividly expressed by his thus continuing
his argument as if without appearing to have even
heard Brutus's interrupting question ; for such is the
only interpretation which his therefore would seem
to admit of.

50. Aitd be not jealous on me. — This is the read-
ing of all the Folios ; and it has been restored to the
text by Mr. Knight, who does not, however, produce
any other example of the same syntax. The other
modern editors generally, with the exception of Mr.

152 Philological Commentary. [act i.

Collier, have changed the on into of. [Dyce, Hud-
son, and White have on^ And eveiywhere else, I
believe, Shakespeare writes jealous of. But there
seems to be no natural reason, independently of usage,
why the adjective might not take the one preposition
as well as the other. They used to say enamoured
on formerly. In the same manner, although the
common form is to eat of yet in Macbeth^ i. 3, we
have, as the words stand in the first three Folios,
" Have we eaten on the insane root." So, although
we commonly say " seized <?/?" we have in Hamlet.,
i. I, " All those his lands Which he stood seized d?«."
And there is the familiar use of on for of in the
popular speech, of which we have also an example
in Hamlet in the Clown's "You lie out on't. Sir"
(v. i). [Instances of on where we should use of
are very numerous in Shakespeare ; as in the Tern-
pest, i. 2 : —

The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And sucked my verdure out on^t.

You taught me language ; and my profit <?»'/
Is, I knovsr how to curse.

and hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.

So also in Macbeth, iii. i : —

Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
The moment oti't.

And v. I : —

Banquo's buried ; he cannot come out on's grave.

Compare i Sam. xxvii. 11.]

50. Were I a common laugher. — Pope made this
correction, in which he has been followed by all sub-
sequent editors. In all the editions before his the

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 153

reading is laughter ; and the necessity or propriety
of the change is perhaps not so unquestionable as it
has been generally thought. Neither word seems to
be perfectly satisfactory. '• Were I a common
laughter " might seem to derive some support from
the expression of the same speaker in 561 : " Hath
Cassius lived to be but mirth and laughter to his
Biutus?"

50. To stale with ordinary oaths my love. — John-
son, the only commentator who notices this expres-
sion, interprets it as meaning, " to invite every new
protester to my affection by the stale, or allurement,
of customary oaths." But surely the more common
sense of the word stale^ both the verb and the noun,
involving the notion of insipid or of little worth or
estimation, is far more natural here. Who forgets
Enobarbus's phrase in his enthusiastic description
of Cleopatra {^Antony and Cleopatra^ ii. 3), "Age
cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite
variety " ? So in 497, " Staled by other men."
[White follows Johnson. Hudson has anticipated
Craik in the explanation here given.]

50. And after scandal them. — We have lost the
Verb scandal altogether, and we scarcely use the

other form, to scandalize.^ except in the sense of the
Hellenistic tfxav(5aXj^w, to shock, to give offence.
Both had formerly also the sense of to defame or
traduce.

51. What means this shouting? etc. — Here is
the manner in which this passage is given in the
original edition : —

Bru, What means this Showting?
I do feare, the People choose CcBsar
For their King.

Cassi. I, do you feare it?

Philological Commentary. [act i.

53. If it be aught toward. — All that the prosody
demands here is that the word toward he pronounced
in two syllables ; the accent may be either on the
first or the second. Toward when an adjective has,
I believe, always the accent on the first syllable in
Shakespeare ; but its customary pronunciation may
have been, otherwise in his day when it was a prepo-
sition, as it is here. Milton, however, in the few
cases in which he does not run the two syllables
into one, always accents the first. And he uses both
toward and towards.

53. Set Honor in one eye., etc. — This passage
has occasioned some discussion. Johnson's expla-
nation is, " When Brutus first names Honour and
Death, he calmly declares them indifferent ; but, as
the image kindles in his mind, he sets Honour above
life." [Coleridge says, " Warburton would read
death for both; but I prefer the old text. There are
here three things — the public good, the individual
Brutus' honour, and his death. The latter two so
balanced each other, that he could decide for the
first by equipoise ; nay, — the thought growing, —
that honour had more weight than death. That
Cassius understood it as Warburton, is the beauty'
of Cassius as contrasted with Brutus."] It does not
seem to be necessary to suppose any such change or
growth either of the image or the sentiment. What
Brutus means by saying that he will look upon
Honor and Death indifferently, if they present
themselves together, is merely that, for the sake of
the honor, he will not mind the death, or the risk
of death, by which it may be accompanied ; he will
look as fearlessly and steadily upon the one as upon
the other. He will think the honor to be cheaply
purchased even by the loss of life ; that price will

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 155

never make him falter or hesitate in clutching at
such a prize. He must be understood to set honor
above life from the first ; that he should ever have
felt otherwise for a moment would have been the
height of the unheroic. — The convenient elisions
i' the and o' the have been almost lost to our modern
English verse, at least in composition of the ordinary-
regularity and dignity. Byron, however, has in a
well-known passage ventured upon " Hived in our
bosoms like the bag o' the bee." [Compare Tennyson
(^Mariana) : " The blue fly sung i' the pane."]

54. Tour outward favour. — A man's favor is
his aspect or appearance. " In beauty," says Bacon,
in his 43d Essay^ " that of favour is more than that
of colour ; and that of decent and gracious motion
more than that of favour." [Compare Proverbs^
xxxi. 30.] The word is now lost to us in that sense ;
but we still use favored with ivell^ ill^ and perhaps
other qualifying terms, for featured or looking ; as in
Gen. xli. 4, " The ill-favoured and lean-fleshed
kine did eat up the seven well-favoured and fat kine."
Favor seems to be used iox face from the same con-
fusion or natural transference of meaning between
the expressions for the feeling in the mind and the
outward indication of it in the look that has led to
the word counte7iance^ which commonly denotes the
latter, being sometimes employed, by a process the
reverse of what we have in the case oi favor., in the
sense of at least one modification of the former ; as
when we speak of any one giving something his
countenance., or countenancing it. In this case,
however, it ought to be observed that countenance
has the meaning, not simply of favorable feeling or
approbation, but of its expression or avowal. The
French terms from which we have borrowed our

156 Philological Commentary. [act i.

J^avor and countenance do not appear to have either
of them undergone the transference of meaning
which has befallen the English forms. But con-
tenance^ which is still also used by the French in
the sense of material capacity, has drifted far away
from its original import in coming to signify one's
aspect or physiognomy. It is really also the same
word with the French and English continence and
the Latin continentia.

54. For my single self. — Here is a case in which
we are still obliged to adhere to the old way of
writing and printing my self. See 56.

54. / had as lief. — Lief (sometimes written leef
or leve)., in the comparative liefer or lever ^ in the
superlative liefest^ is the Saxon leof of the same
meaning with our modern dear. The common
modern substitute for lief is soon^ and for liefer.,
sooner or rather., which last is properly the com-
parative of rath., or rathe., signifying early, not
found in Shakespeare, but used in one expression —
'' the rathe primrose " {Lycidas, 142) — by Milton,
who altogether ignores lief. Lief liefer., and lief-
est., are all common in Spenser. Shakespeare has
lief pr^ty frequently, but never liefer; and liefest
occurs only in the Second Part of King Henry VL.,
where, in iii. i, we have " My liefest liege." In
the same Play, too (i. i), we have "Mine alderlief
est sovereign," meaning dearest of all. " This beau-
tiful word," says Mr. Knight, " is a Saxon compound.
Alder, of all, is thus frequently joined with an
adjective of the superlative degree, — as alderfrst,
alder last." But it cannot be meant that such combi-
nations are frequent in the English of Shakespeare's
day. They do occur, indeed, in a preceding stage
of the language. Alder is a corrupted or at least

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 157

modified form of the Saxon genitive plural aller^ or
alh'e; it is that strengthened by the interposition of
a supporting d (a common expedient). Aller^ with
the same signification, is still familiar in German
compounds. — The eflect and construction of lief in
Middle English may be seen in the following exam-
ples from Chaucer : " For him was lever han at
his beddes head " (C T. Pro, 295), that is, To him
it was dearer to have {lever a monosyllable, beddes
a. dissyllable) ; " Ne, though I say it, I n' am not lefe
to gabbe " (C T. 3510), that is, I am not given to
prate ; " I hadde lever dien," that is, I should hold
it preferable to die. And Chaucer has also " Al be
him loth or lefe" (C T, 1839), that is, Whether it
be to him agreeable or disagreeable ; and '^ For lefe
ne loth " (C. T. 13062), that is, For love nor loath-
ing. — We may remark the evidently intended con-
nection in sound between the lief and the live, or
rather the attraction by which the one word has
naturally produced or evoked the other. \_Had lever
is rightly explained here, but had rather (see 57) is
a very different phrase ; probably an expansion of
rd rather. Had came to be regarded as a sort of
auxiliary for such phrases. Had rather and had
better have the sanction of good English usage,
though many of the writers of grammars tell us that
we should say would rather, etc., instead. The
latter makes sense, of course, but the more idiomatic
expression is not to be condemned. See on 468. —
Tennyson uses rathe: " The men of rathe and riper
years." The following are examples of rather in
the sense of earlier, sooner : —
Wolde God this relyke had come rather I Heywood.

And it arose ester and ester, till it arose full este ; and
rather and rather. Warkworth.

158 Philological Commentary. [act i.

Sejnt Edward the Martyr was his sone
By his rathere wjf (i. e. his former wife).

Robt. of Gloucester.

he sholde

Han lost his regne rather than he wolde.

Chaucer^ C. T. 10176.
The rather lambes bene starved with cold. .

Spenser, Shep. Cal. Feb. 83.

The superlative rathest is found in Chaucer,
Compl, of BL Kt. 428 : —

Accept be now rathest unto grace.]
54. [ The troubled Tiber chafing. — Chafe is from
the Latin calefacere., through the French echauffer
and chauffer. The steps by which the word has
acquired its modern meaning seem to be, first, to
warm ; then, to warm by rubbing ; and finally, to
rub generally, in either a literal or a figurative sense.
See 2 Sam. xvii. 8. See also The Taming of the
Shrew.) i. 2 : —

Have I not heard the sea puffed up with winds

Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat.?

Fain would I go chafe his paly lips

With twenty thousand kisses. 2 Henry VI. iii. 2.

What, are you chafed .?
Ask God for temperance; — Henry VIII. i. i.

Do not chafe thee, cousin ;
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone.

Troil. and Cress, iv. 5.

For other examples illustrating Shakespeare's use
of the word, see Mrs. Clarke's Concordance.']

54. Ccesar said to me., etc. — In the Second Folio
it is '* Caesar sales to me." And three lines lower
down it is there " Accounted as I was." Other
errors of that copy in the same speech are " chasing
with her shores," and " He had a Feaher when he
was in Spaine."

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 159

54. [ With lusty sinews. — Lusty ^ vigorous, full of
energy, is " derived from the Saxon lust in its pri-
mary sense of eager desire, or intense longing, indi-
cating a corresponding intensity of bodily vigor."
See Judges iii. 29. — The Scotch lusty had the sense
of beautiful, handsome. Gawin Douglas translates
Virgil's " Sunt mihi bis septem praestanti corpore
nymphae" (u^n. i. 71) by " I have, quod sche, lusty
ladyis fourtene."]

54. Arrive the point proposed, — Arrive without
the now indispensable at or in is found also in the
Third Part of King Henry VI. (v. 3) : —

Those powers that the queen
Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast.

And Milton has the same construction {P. L. ii.

Ere he arrive
The happy isle.

54. /, as ./Eneas., etc. — This commencement of
the sentence, although necessitating the not strictly
grammatical repetition of the first personal pronoun,
is in fine rhetorical accordance with the character of
the speaker, and vividly expresses his eagerness to
give prominence to his own part in the adventure.
Even the repetition (of which, by the by, we have
another instance in this same speech) assists the
effect. At the same time, it may just be noted that
the / here is not printed difterently in the origi-
nal edition from the adverb of affirmation in "-4y»
and that tongue of his," a few lines lower down.
Nor are the two words anywhere distinguished. It
may be doubted whether Macbeth's great exclama-
tion (ii. 3) should not be printed (as it is by Steevens)
^' Wake Duncan with thy knocking : Ay, would thou
couldst ! " (instead of " I would," as usually given).

i6o Philological Commentary. [act i.

54. The old Anchises^ etc. — This is a line of six
feet ; but it is quite different in its musical character
from what -is called an Alexandrine, such as rounds
off the Spenserian stanza, and also frequently makes
the second line in a rhymed couplet or the third in a
triplet. It might perhaps be going too far to say
that a proper Alexandrine is inadmissible in blank
verse. There would seem to be nothing in the prin-
ciple of blank verse opposed to the occasional em-
ployment of the Alexandrine ; but the custom of our
modern poetry excludes such a variation even from
dramatic blank verse ; and unquestionably by far the
greater number of the lines in Shakespeare which
have been assumed by some of his editors to be
Alexandrines are only instances of the ordinary
heroic line with the very common peculiarity of cer-
tain superfluous short syllables. That is all that we
have here, — the ordinary heroic line overflowing its
bounds, — which, besides that great excitement will
excuse such irregularities, or even demand them,
admirably pictures the emotion of Cassius, as it
were acting his feat over again as he relates it, —
with the shore the two were making for seeming, in
their increasing efforts, to retire before them, — and
panting with his remembered toil.

54. His coward lips didfro7n their colour Jly. —
There can, I think, be no question that Warburton is
right in holding that we have here a pointed allusion to
a soldier flying from his colors. The lips would never
otherwise be made to fly from their color, instead of
their color from them. The figure is quite in Shake-
speare's manner and spirit.

54. Did lose his lustre. — There is no personifica-
tion here. His was formerly neuter as well as mas-
culine, or the genitive of It as well as of He; and

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. i6i

his lustre, meaning the lustre of the eye, is the same
form of expression that we have in the texts, " The
fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is
in itself {Gen. i. ii) ; "/if shall bruise thy head,
and thou shalt bruise his heel " {Gen. iii. 15) ; " If
the salt have lost /^/^ savour " {Matt. v. 13, smdJLuke
xiv. 34) ; " If the salt have lost his saltness " {Mark
ix. 50 ;) " When they were past the first and the
second ward, they came unto the iron gate that lead-
eth unto the city, which opened to them of his own
accord " {Acts xii. 10) ; " His throne was like the
fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire " {Dan.
vii. 9) ; and others. The word Its does not occur
in the authorized translation of the Bible ; its place
is always supplied either by His or by Thereof.
So again, in the present Play, in 522, we have
" That every nice offence should bear his comment ; "
and in Antony and Cleopatra^ v. i, " The heart
where mine his thoughts did kindle." One of the
most curious and decisive examples of the neuter his
occurs in Coriolanus^ i. i : —

it [the belly] tauntingly replied
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts,
That envied his receipt.

Its^ however, is found in Shakespeare. There is
one instance in Measure for Measure^ i. 2, where
Lucio's remark about coming to a composition with
the King of Hungary draws the reply, " Heaven
grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's."
The its here, it may be observed, has the emphasis.
It is printed without the apostrophe both in the First
and in the Second Folio. But the most remarkable
of the Plays in regard to this particular is probably
The Winter's Tale. Here, in i. 2, we have so many
as three instances in a single speech of Leontes : —
II

i62 Philological Commentary. [act i.

How sometimes Nature will betray it's folly?
It's tendernesse ? and make it selfe a Pastime
To harder bosomes ? Looking on the Lynes
Of my Boyes face, me thoughts I did requoyle
Twentie three yeeres, and saw my selfe vn-breech'd,
In my greene Veluet Coat ; my Dagger muzzel'd,
Least it should bite it's Master, and so proue
(As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous.

So stands the passage in the First Folio. Nor does
the new pronoun here appear to be a peculiarity of
expression characteristic of the excited Sicilian king ;
a little while after in the same scene we have the
same form from the mouth of Camillo : —

Be plainer with me, let me know my Trespas
By it's owne visage.

And again, in iii. 3, we have Antigonus, when about
to lay down the child in Bohemia, observing that he
believes it to be the wish of Apollo that

it should heere be laide
(Either for life, or death) vpon the earth
Of it's right Father.

Nor is this all. There are two other passages of
the same Play in which the modern editors also give
us its; but in these the original text has //. The
first is in ii. 3, where Leontes, in directing Antigonus
to carry away the " female bastard" to some foreign
land, enjoins him that he there leave it

(Without more mercy) to it owne protection.
The other is in iii. 2, where Hermione's words stand
in both the First and Second Folio, —

The innocent milke in it most innocent mouth.

It is a mistake to assume, as the modern editors

do, that it in these instances is a misprint for its:

Dr. Guest {Phil. Pro. i. 280) has observed that in

the dialects of the North-Western Counties formerly

sc. II,] Julius C^sar. 163

it was sometimes used for its; and that, accordingly,
we have not only in Shakespeare's King yohn^ ii. i,
" Goe to yt grandame, child and it gran-
dame will giue yt a plumb," but in Ben Jonson's
Silent Woman^ ii. 3, " It knighthood and it friends."
So in Lear^ i. 4, we have in a speech of the Fool,
" For you know, Nunckle, the Hedge-Sparrow fed
the Cuckoo so long, that it's had it head bit off by it
young " (that is, that it has had its head, — not that
it had its head, as the modern editors give the
passage, after the Second Folio, in which it stands,
" that it had its head bit off by it young " ). This
use of it is still familiar in the popular speech of the
West Riding of Yorkshire, and even in the English
of some parts of Ireland. So, long before its was
generally received, we have 2/^^//" commonly printed
in two words, evidently under the impression that
it was a possessive, of the same syntactical force with
the pronouns in my self^ your self^ her self. And
even now we do not write itsself. Formerly, too,
according to Dr. Guest, they often said even " The
King wife," etc., for " The King's wife." So he
holds that in such modern phrases as " The idea of
a thing being abstracted," t>r " of it beiiTg abstracted,"
thing and it are genitives, for thing's and its.

We have // again in Lear., iv. 2 : " that nature
which contemnes it origin." The passage is not in
the Folios ; but the First Q^iarto has ith., and the
Second //, for the its of the modern text.

There is also one passage in our English Bible,
Levit. XXV. 5, in which the reading of the original
edition is " of it own accord." The modern reprints
give " its." [In the Geneva Bible, 1579, we have
" it owne accorde " in Acts xii. 10.]

Dr. Guest asserts that its was used generally by

164 Philological Commentary. [act i.

the dramatists of the age to which the authorized
version of the Bible belongs, and also by many of
their contemporaries. Dr. Trench, in his English^
Past and Present^ doubts whether Milton has once
admitted it into Paradise Lost^ " although, when
that was composed, others frequently allowed it."
The common 'authorities give us no help in such
matters as .this ; no notice is taken of the word Its
either in Todd's Verbal Index to Milton, or in Mrs.
Clarke's elaborate Concordance to Shakespeare.
But Milton does use Its occasionally ; as, e. g. {P.
L. i. 254), "The mind is its own place, and in
itself;" and (P. L. iv. 813), "No falsehood can
endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of
force to its own likeness." [See also Hymn on the
Nativity^ 106.] Generally, however, he avoids the
word, and easily manages to do so by personifying
most of his substantives ; it is only when this cannot
be done, that he reluctantly accepts the services of the
little -parvenu monosyllable.

Mr. Singer, in a note to his edition of the Essays
and Wisdom of the Ancients^ p. 200, seems to inti-
mate that its is nowhere used by Bacon. Like
Shakespeare and otlier writers of the time, he has
frequently his in the neuter.

Dr. Trench notices the fact of the occurrence of
its in Rowley's Poems as decisive against their gen-
uineness. He observes, also, that " Dryden, when,
in one of his fault-finding moods with the great men
of the preceding generation, he is taking Ben Jonson
to task for general inaccuracy in his English dic-
tion, among other counts of his indictment, quotes
this line of Catiline^ ' Though heaven should speak
with all his wrath at once ; ' and proceeds, ' Heaven
is ill syntax with his.^ " This is a curious evi-

sc. II.] Julius C-«;sar. 165

dence of how completely the recent rise of its had
come to be generally forgotten in a single genera-
tion.

The need of it, indeed, must have been much felt.
If it was convenient to have the two forms He and
It in the nominative, and Him and // in the other
cases, a similar distinction between the Masculine
and the Neuter of the genitive must have been
equally required for perspicuous expression. Even
the personifying power of his was impaired by its
being applied to both genders. Milton, consequent-
ly, it may be noticed, prefers wherever it is possible
the feminine to the masculine personification, as if
he felt that the latter was always obscure from the
risk of the his being taken for the neuter pronoun.
Thus we have (P. L. i. 723) " The ascending pile
Stood fixed her stately height ; " (ii. 4) '* The gor-
geous East with richest hand Showers on her kings ; "
(ii. 175) " What if all Her stores were opened, and
this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of
fire;" (ii. 271) "This desert soil Wants not her
hidden lustre ; " (ii. 584) " Lethe, the river of
oblivion, rolls Her watery labyrinth;" (ix. 1103)
" The fig-tree . . . spreads her arms ; " ( Com. 396)
" Beauty . . . had need . . . To save her blossoms
and defend her fruit ; " ( Com.. 468) *' The soul grows
clotted . . . till she quite lose The divine property
of her first being ; " and so on, continually and
habitually, or upon system. His masculine personi-
fications are comparatively rare, and are only ven-
tured upon either where he does not require to use
the pronoun, or where its gender cannot be mis-
taken.

Milton himself, however, nowhere, I believe, uses
his in a neuter sense. He felt too keenly the annoy-

1 66 Philological Commentary. [act i.

ance of such a sense of it always coming in the way
to spoil or prevent any other use he might have
made of it. The modern practice is the last of three
distinct stages through which the language passed as
to this matter in the course of less than a century.
First, we have his serving for both masculine and
neuter ; secondly, we have his restricted to the mas-
culine, and the neuter left with hardly any recognized
form ; thirdly, we have the defect of the second stage
remedied by the frank adoption of the heretofore re-
jected its. And the most curious thing of all in the
history of the word its is the extent to which, before
its recognition as a word admissible in serious com-
position, even the occasion for its employment was
avoided or eluded. This is very remarkable in
Shakespeare. The very conception which we ex-
press by its probably does not occur once in his
works for ten times that it is to be found in any
modern writer. So that we may say the invention,
or adoption, of this form has changed not only our
English style, but even our manner of thinking.

The Saxon personal pronoun was, in the Nomina-
tive singular. He for the Masculine, Heo for the
Feminine, and Hit for the Neuter. He we still
retain ; for Heo we have substituted She^ apparently
a modification of Seo^ the Feminine of the Demon-
strative (6'^, Seo., Thaet) ; Hit we have converted
into It (though the aspirate is still often heard in the
Scottish dialect). The Genitive was Hire for the
Feminine (whence our modern Her)^ and His both
for the Masculine and the Neuter. So also the mod-
ern German has ihr for the Feminine, and only one
form, sein., for both the Masculine and the Neuter.
But in the inflection of this single form the two gen-
ders in Our ancient English were distinguished both

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 167

in the Nominative and in the Accusative, whereas in
German they are distinguished in the Accusative
only. They are the same in the Genitive and Dative
in both languages.

It is to be understood, of course, that the its^ how-
ever convenient, is quite an irregular formation : the
/ of it (originally hit) is merely the sign of the neuter
gender,* which does not enter into the inflection,
leaving the natural genitive of that gender {Jii^ hi-s)
substantially identical with that of the masculine {he^
he-s^ hi-s).

\_Its and it's are both found before the end of the
1 6th century, though infrequently.

Spontaneamente, willingly, naturally, . . . for its owne
sake. Florio, A Worlde of JVordes, 1598.

The same writer uses ifs in " The Epistle Dedi-
catorie " of his translation of Montaigne's £^ssays,
and several times in other parts of the work.

In Shakespeare (Folio, 1623) //^ occurs but once, —
in the passage from Measure for Measure^ quoted
by Craik. It's is found nine times. The instances
not given above are the following : —

My trust
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in it's contrarie, as great
As my trust was. Tempest^ i. 2.

Allaying both their fury, and my passion

With ifs sweet ayre. Tempest^ i. 2.

As milde and gentle as the Cradle-babe
Dying with mothers dugge betweene ifs lips.

2 Henry VI. iii. 2.

* [Some philologists — Prof Key among the number, I
believe — are disposed to consider the -/ as belonging to the
root.]

i6S Philological Commentary. [act i.

Each following day
Became the next dayes master, till the last
Made former Wonders, ifs. Henry VIII. i. i.

It^ or yt^ possessive, is found in the Folio of 1623,
in fourteen passages. The following are not men-
tioned by Craik : —

But Nature should bring forth
Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people. Tempest^ ii. i.

It hath it originall from much greefe ; —

2 Henry IV. i. 2.
And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes.
Corrupting in it owne fertilitie. Henry V. v. 2.

And yet I warrant it had vpon it brow, etc.

Romeo and Juliet^ i. 3.

Feeling in it selfe
A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall
Of it owne fall. Timon of Athens •> v. i.

It lifted vp it head, and did addresse

It selfe to motion, like as it would speake. Hamlet^ i. 2.

This doth betoken
The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand,
Fore do it owne life. Hamlet^ v. i.

It is iust so high as it is, and mooues with it owne organs.

Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 7.
Of it owne colour too. Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 7.
The Handmaides of all Women, or more truely
Woman it pretty selfe. Cymbeline, iii. 4.

This possessive it is found in Udal's Erasmus^
1548, and in the form hit even earlier, as in the
Anturs of Arther: —

For I wille speke with the sprete,
And of hit woe wille I wete,
Gif that I may hit bales bete.

For additional examples see Eastwood and Wright's
Bible Word-Book.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 169

White, in a note on " ifs folly," etc., Winter's
Tale, i. 2 (vol. v. p. 385 of his edition of the poet),
says, " It appears that the possessive pronoun its, in
its consolidated form, was not known in Shakespeare's
time, and the extended form it's was only just coming
into use." In vol. i. (the last volume published).
Preface, p. xiii., after remarking that " no edition
is worthy of confidence, or, indeed, to be called an
edition, the text of which has not been compared,
word by word, with that of the Folio of 1623 and
the precedent Quarto copies ; " and that " a notice
of even the slightest deviation from the text of 1623
in this edition has been deemed obligatory ; " and
that " as a guarantee of accuracy the indication of
these trifling variations has its value ; " he goes on
to say, " Careful literal conformity to the old text,
except in its corruptions and irregularities, has, how-
ever, a greater value than this of being a guarantee
of exactness. For instance, in these passages in
Hamlet (the two with it possessive given above),
and in this from Lear ('The hedge-sparrow,* etc.),
the use of it in the possessive sense is not only a trait
of the time, but, even if there were no other evidence,
is enough to show that Hamlet and Lear were
written before The Winter's Tale, in which we find
' it's folly and ifs tenderness,' and before Henry
VIII, , in the first scene of which we have, ' made
former wonders its' The last passage affords the
earliest instance known, I believe, of the use of the
neuter possessive pronoun without the apostrophe.
And yet, until the appearance of the present edition
of Shakespeare's works, its was given indiscrimi-
nately throughout the text of all editions."

If White's variations from the Folio of 1623 in the
case of this little word its or it's are to be judged by

170 Philological Commentary. [act i.

•the rule which he himself lays down,* his edition is
not " worthy of confideijce." He has its in seven
places where the Folio of 1623 has either ifs or it
{Tejnp. i. 2, dzs ; i?. ^ y. i. 3 ; A. d^ C. ii. 7, di's;
Hen. K V. 2 ; 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2), but in the passage
from Henjy VIII. ^ quoted in his Preface as the
earliest instance of its., he has it's., which is correct.
In Meas. for Meas. (i. 2), the date of which
he makes ten years earlier than Henry VIII.., he
has its., which is also correct. As we have seen,
this last is the one instance of its in the Folio. In
Temp.n. i,also. White has its^ but corrects it in
the "Additional Notes " prefixed to his last (First)
volume.

I hardly need add that no argument in regard to
the date of the difterent Plays can be based upon the
occurrence of these various forms of the possessive
its. We find all three in some of the earliest Plays,
two difterent forms in the very same Play, and ifs
in Henry VIII.., which, according to White, is the
latest of the Plays. The simple fact is, that Shake-
speare wrote in the early part of that transitional
period when its was begin7iing to displace his and
her as the possessive of it., and that just at that time
the forms it and ifs were more common than its.,
though this last was occasionally used even before
the end of the sixteenth centuiy.

* [I do not think that they should be thus judged ; and
I am very sure that accidental variations from the text of
1623 are by no means so frequent in White's Shakespeare
as one might infer from the examples here quoted. Nor
are the notes on this word to be taken as a fair sample of
the general character of White's annotations, v^^hich, with
rare exceptions, deserve, I doubt not, all the commendation
they have received from critics *' older in practice, abler
than myself to make conditions."]

sc. II.] Julius Cjesar. 171

Besides the authorities aheady mentioned, see
Marsh, Led. on Eng. Lang.^ First Series, p. 397.]

54,55. — And bear the fahii alone» — Another
general shout I — Two hen^istichs or broken lines
thus following one another are not necessarily to be
regarded as prosodically connected, any more than
if they were several sentences asunder. The notion
that two such consecutive fragments were always
intended by Shakespeare to make a complete verse,
has led the modern editors, more especially Steevens,
into a great deal of uncalled-for chopping and tinker-
ing of the old text.

^6. But in ourselves. — In the original edition it
is divided " our selves," exactly as " our stars " in the
preceding line. And so always with our self^ your
self., her self., my self., thy self., and also it self., but
never with hiynself or themselves. See 54.

56. What should be in that Ccesar? — A form of
speech now gone out. It was a less blunt and direct
way of saying What is there? or What may there
be? These more subtle and delicate modes of ex-
pression, by the use of the subjunctive [or potential,
as some call it] for the indicative, and of the past for
the present, which characterize not only the Oreek
and Latin languages, but even the German, have for
the greater part perished in our modern English.
The deep insight and creative force — the "great
creating nature " — which gave birth to our tongue
has dried up under the benumbing touch of the logic
by which it has been trained and cultivated.

56. More than yours. — See Prolegomena^ Sect.
V. p. 27. \_Than and then are different forms of the
same word, often used interchangeably by old wri-
ters. See Richardso7i' s Diet.., etc. Milton has than
for then in the Hymn on the Nativity., ^^.'\

172 * Philological Commentary. [act i.

56. Become the mouth as well. — Always aswell^
as one word, in the First Folio.

56. The breed of noble bloods, — We scarcely now
use this plural. Shakespeare has it several times ;
as afterwards in 644, " I know young bloods look for
a time of rest ; " in Much Ado About Nothings iii.
3, where Boracio remarks how giddily fashion " turns
about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five
and thirty;" in The Winter's Tale, i. i, w^here
Leontes says, " To mingle friendship far is mingling
bloods;" in King John, ii. i, where Philip of
France, to the boast of John before the walls of
Anglers that he brings as witnesses to his right and
title " twice fifteen thousand hearts of English breed,"
replies (aside) that

As many and as well-born bloods as those
Stand in his face to contradict his claim.

56. That her wide walls encompassed but one
man. — The old reading is " wide walks'^ Despite
the critical canon which warns us against easy or
obvious amendments, it is impossible not to believe
that we have a misprint here. What Rome's wide
walks may mean is not obvious ; still less, how she
could be encompassed by her walks, however wide.
[Hudson has walks; Collier, Dyce, and White,
walls.'\

56. Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough. —
Shakespeare's pronunciation of Rome seems to have
been Room. Besides the passage before us we have
afterwards in the present Play (367) " No Rome of
safety for Octavius 5^et ; " and in King John, iii. i,
" That 1 have room with Rome to curse a while."
In the First Part of King Henry the Sixth, it is
true, we have the other pronunciation ; there (iii. 2),
the Bishop of Winchester having exclaimed " Rome

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 173

shall remedy this," Warwick replies '''-Roam thither,
then." This little fact is not without its significance
in reference to the claim of that Play to be laid at
Shakespeare's door. [Staunton quotes Prime, Com-
mentary on Galatians^ p. 122, 1587 : " Rome is too
narrow a Room for the church of God."]

56. But one only man. — In the original text
" but one onely man," jorobably indicating that the
pronunciation of the numeral and of the first syllable
of the adverb was the same.

57. That you do love m^e^ lam nothing' jealous. —
I am nowise jealous, doubtful, suspicious, in regard
to its being the fact that you love me. This seems
to be the grammatical resolution of a construction
which, like man* similar ones familiar to the freer
spirit of the language two centuries ago, would now
scarcely be ventured upon.

57. I have some aifn. — Aim^ in old French eyme^
esme^ and estme^ is the same word with esteem (from
the Latin aestimatio and aestimare)., and should
therefore signify properly a judgment or conjecture
of the mind, which is very nearly its meaning here.
We might now say, in the same sense, I have some
notion. In modern English the word has acquired
the additional meaning of an intention to hit, or
catch. Or in some other way attain, that to which the
view is directed. It does not seem impossible that
the French name for the loadstone, aimant^ may be
from the same root, although it has usually been con-
sidered to be a corruption of ada?nant. A ship's
reckonings are called in French estlmes^ which is
undoubtedly the same word with our alms. In the
French of the early part of the sixteenth century we
find esme and esme (or esmez^ as it was commonly
written) confounded with the totally different aimer^

174 Philological Commentary. [act i.

to love. Rabelais, for instance, writes Men aymez
for Men esmez^ well disposed. See Duchat's Note
on liv. i., ch. 5.

57. I^or this present. — So in the Absolution^
" that those things may please him which we do at
this present." This expression, formerly in universal
use and good repute, now remains only a musty law
phrase, never admitted into ordinary composition
except for ludicrous effect.

^^. So with love I might entreat you. — This
form of expression is still preserved both in our
own language and in German. Thus {yohn i. 25),
" Warum taufest du denn, so du nicht Christus
bist?" or, " So Gott will" (If God please). The
conjunction thus used is commonly said to be equiv-
alent to if. But so^ according to Home Tooke (Z?.
of P. 147), is merely the Moeso-Gothic demonstra-
tive pronoun, and signifies properly this or that.
In German, though commonly, as with ourselves,
only an adverb or conjunction, it may still be also
used pronominally ; as Das Buch.^ so ihr tnir gege-
ben habt (the book which you gave me). Upon
this theory, all that so will perform in such a pas-
sage as the present will be to mark and separate the
clause which it heads by an emphatic introductory
compendium — That (or this)., namely, that with
love I might, etc. ; and the fact of the statement in
the clause being a supposition, or assumption, will
be left to be inferred. The First Folio points, blun-
deringly, " I would not so (with love I might in-
treat you)."

57. Chew upon this. — We have lost the Saxon
word in this application ; but we retain the meta-
phor, only translating chew into the Latin equiva-
lent, ruminate.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 175

^^. Brutus had rather be . . , than to repute,
[See on had as lief^ 54.] The to before repute is,
apparently, to be defended, if at all, upon the ground
that had rather is equivalent in import to would
prefer^ and that, although it is only an auxiliary
before be a villager^ it is to be taken as a common
verb before to repute. It is true that, as we have
seen (i), the to was in a certain stage of the lan-
guage sometimes inserted, sometimes omitted, both
after auxiliaries and after other verbs ; but that was
hardly the style of Shakespeare's age. We certainly
could not now say " I had rather to repute ; " and I
do not suppose that any one would have directly
so written or spoken then. The irregularity is soft-
ened or disguised in the passage before us by the
intervening words.

57. Under these hard conditions as. — This is
the reading in all the old copies ; these — as where
we should now say such — as^ or those — that. So
in 129 we have " To such a man That is no fleering
tell-tale." Although those — as^ or that — as^ is
common, however, these — as is certainly at any
rate unusual. I should suspect the true reading to
be " under those hard conditions." See 44.

S^, Is like. — This form of expression is not
quite, but nearly, gone out. We now commonly
say is likely.

58. / am glad that my weak words. — In this
first line of the speech of Cassius and the last of the
preceding speech of Brutus we have two hemistichs,
having no prosodical connection. [See 54, 55.]

Re-enter Caesar. — In the original text it is Enter.

60. What hath proceeded. — That is, simply,
happened, — a sense which the verb has now lost.

61. I will do so^ etc. — Throughout the Play, the

176 Philological Commentary. [act i.

ius of Cassius (as also of Lucilius) makes some-
times only one syllable, sometimes two, as here.

62. Being crossed in conference^ etc. — If the
being and confereiice be fully enunciated, as they
will be in any but the most slovenly reading, we
have two supernumerary syllables in this line, but
both so short that, neither the mechanism nor the
melody of the verse is at all impaired by them.

6<,. Let me have men about m,e^ etc. — Some of
the expressions in this speech are evidently sug-
gested by those of North in his translation of Plu-
tarch's Life of Caesar : " When Caesar's friends com-
plained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that
they pretended [i. e. intended'] some mischief to-
wards him, he answered. As for those fat men and
smooth-combed heads (quoth he), I never reckon
of them ; but these pale-visaged and carrion-lean
people, I fear them most ; meaning Brutus and Cas-
sius."

65. Such as sleep d nights. — That is, on nights ;
as d clock is on clock, and also as aboard is on board,
aside on side, aloft on loft, alive in life, etc. In the
older stages of the language the meanings that we
now discriminate by on and in are confused, and are
both expressed by an^ on^ un^ in^ or in composition
by the contractions a or o. The form here in the
original text is a-nights. [The prefix a- or an- is
essentially identical with on-. An-, with its abbrevi-
ation a-, is said to characterize the dialects of the
southern counties of England, while on- and o- mark
the northern dialects. In many instances the two
forms remain side by side, as in aboard and on
board, afire and on fire, aground and on ground
(2 Henry IV. iv. 4), a high {Richard III. iv. 4)
and on high, afoot and on foot, asleep and on sleep

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 177

(^Acts xiii. 36), abed and on bed (Chaucer, C. T.
6509), alive and on live ( C T. 5587). Compare
also Saxon forms like o7i-weg and a-weg^ away. In
ado^ the a- is equivalent to to. So in a-work (2
Henry /K iv. 3 ; 2 Chron. ii. 18). See Bible
Word- B 00k ^ Wedgwood., Nares., etc.]

65. 26?;z^ Cassitis. — Though yond is no longer in
use, we still have both yon and yonder. The d is
probably no proper part of the word, but has been
added to strengthen the sound, as in the word sound
itself (from the French son)., and in many other
cases. [As we have in Saxon geond = illuc, and
x\o yofi., it is not likely \k\2it yond has gained a d., but
rather that yon has lost one. It may be that yon is
an old form which has come down to us orally,
though not found in literature. The root is the
same as in the German y^;/^/-, Gothic y^^W.]

^6. Well given. — Although we no longer say
absolutely well or ill given (for well or ill disposed),
we still say given to study, given to drinking, etc.

67. [ Would he were fatter. — White prints
^ would., as he does again in 218, and as some other
editors have done in these and similar passages.
But even if the would is equivalent to / would.,
there is no reason for the apostrophe, which is used
only when a part of the word has been cut off, as
in '/ is for it is.'\

67. Tet., if 7ny name. -r— A. poetic idiom for " Yet,
if I, bearing the name I do." In the case of Caesar
the name was even more than the representative and
most precise expression of the person ; it was that
in which his power chiefly resided, his renown.
Every reader of Milton will remember the magnifi-
cent passage {P. L. ii. 964), —
12

178 Philological Commentary. [act i.

Behold the throne
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread
Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned
Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things,
The consort of his reign ; and by them stood
Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name
Of DemogorgoD-

6^. Liable to fear. — The word liable has been
somewhat restricted in its application since Shake-
speare's time. We should scarcely now speak of a
person as liable to fear. And see 248 for anothei
application of it still farther away from our present
usage.

67. \^He hears no music. — Compare Mer. of Ven.
V. I, " The man that hath not music in himself," etc.]

67. Such men as he^ etc. — In this and the fol-
lowing line we have no fewer than three archaisms,
words or forms which would not and could not be
used by a writer of the present day: be (for are),
at heart's ease (for in ease of mind), whiles (for
while). It would be difficult to show that the lan-
guage has not in each of these instances lost some-
thing which it would have been the better for
retaining. But it seems to be a law of every lan-
guage which has become thoroughly subdued under
the dominion of grammar, that perfectly synony-
mous terms cannot live in it. If varied forms are
not saved by having distinct senses or functions as-
signed to each, they are tl\rown off as superfluities
and encumbrances. One is selected for use, and
the others are reprobated, or left to perish from
mere neglect. The logic of this no doubt is, that
verbal expression will only be a correct representa-
tion of thought if there should never be even the
slightest variation of the one without a correspond-
ing variation of the other. But the principle is not

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 179

necessarily inconsistent with the existence of various
forms which should be recognized as differing in no
other respect whatever except only in vocal charac-
ter ; and the language would be at least musically
richer with more of this kind of variety. It is what
it regards as the irregularity or lawlessness, how-
ever, of such logically unnecessary variation that
the grammatical spirit hates. It would be argued
that with two or more words of precisely the same
signification we should have really something like
a confusion of two or more languages. [ Whiles is
the genitive singular of while^ which was originally
a noun, used as an adverb. In Icelandic the geni-
tive is used adverbially, and -is is the common termi-
nation of adverbs formed from nouns. Whiles is
found in Matthew, v. 25. Needs^ in phrases like
" must needs," is another instance of the genitive
used adverbially. Compare the Saxon neddes^ of
necessity.]

67. For the present stage direction at the end of
this speech, we have in the original text ''''Sennit,
Exeunt C<^sar and his Traine"

69. What hath chanced to-day . — So in 71 , where,
also, most of the modern editions have " what hath
chanced," although had is the word in all the Folios.
Instead of to chance in this sense we now usually
say to happen. Chance is French [the Latin caden-
tia^ and not, as Craik says, from the cas- of casus
strengthened by inserting n'] ; happen^ hap., and also
happy ^ appear to be derivatives from a Welsh word,
hap or hab^ luck, fortune. The Saxon verb was
befeallan., from which also we have still to befall.

78. Ay^ 7tiarry^ ivas't. — This term of assevera-
tion, marry .^ which Johnson seems to speak of as
still in common use in his day, is found in Chaucer

i8o Philological Commentary. [act i.

in the form Mary^ and appears to be merely a mode
of swearing by the Holy Virgin. [Of course, its
origin had come to be forgotten in Shakespeare's
day, so that its use here is no anachronism.]

78. Every time gentler than other. — So in
Meas.for Meas. iv. 4: " Every letter he hath writ
hath disvouched other." \^Other \\\ these passages
appears to be the plural of other, Saxon othere.
Compare Latimer {Sermons): "It is no marvel
that they go about to keep other in darkness." So
Luke xxiii. 32 ; Phil. ii. 3 ; iv. 3.]

82. The rabblement shouted. — The first three
Folios have howled.^ the Fourth houted. The com-
mon reading is hooted. But this is entirely incon-
sistent with the context. The people applauded
when Caesar refused the crown, and only hissed or
hooted when they thought he was about to accept
it. Shouted was substituted on conjecture by Han-
mer. [Dyce and Hudson have hooted; Collier and
White, shouted.']

82. Eor he swooned. — Swoonded is the word in
all the Folios.

83. Did CcBsar swoon? — Here swound is the
word in all the Folios.

85. ^Tis very like : he hath the falling sickness. —
Like is likely, or probable, as in 57. I am surprised
to find Mr. Collier adhering to the blundering punc-
tuation of the early copies, " 'Tis very like he hath,"
etc. Caesar's infirmity was notorious ; it is men-
tioned both by Plutarch and Suetonius.

^6. And honest Casca, etc. — The slight inter-
ruption to the flow of this line occasioned by the
supernumerary syllable in Casca adds greatly to the
effect of the emphatic we that follows. It is like the
swell of the wave before it breaks.

sc. II. J Julius C^sar. i8i

S^j. If the tag-rag people. — In Coriolanus^ iii.
I, we have " Will you hence, before the ^^z^ return.'*
" This," says Nares, " is, perhaps, the only instance
of /<2^ without his companions ragsimX bobtail^ or at
least one of them. [The expression " tag and rag"
is old in English poetry. Collier quotes from John
Partridge, 1566 :

To walles they goe, both tagge and ragge,
Their citie to defende.]

^^. JVo true ma?z. — No honest man, as we should
now say. Jurymen, as Malone remarks, are still
styled "good men and true."

89. He plucked me ofe his doublet. — Though
we still use to ope in poetry, ope as an adjective is
now obsolete. As for the me in such a phrase as
the present, it may be considered as being in the
same predicament with the my in My Lord^ or the
mon in the French Monsieur. That is to say, it has
no proper pronominal signiticancy, but merely serves
(in so far as it has any effect) to enliven or otherwise
grace the expression. How completely the pronoun
is forgotten, — or we may say, quiescent — in such
a case as that of Monsieur is shown by the common
phrase " Mon cher monsieur." See 205 and 470.

The best commentary on the use of the pronoun
that we have here is the dialogue between Petrucio
and his servant Grumio, in Tafn. of Shrew, i. 2 :
''''Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. Gru.
Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that
I should knock you here, sir? Pet. Villain, I say,
knock me at this gate, and rap me well, or I'll knock
your knave's pate. Gru. My master is grown quar-
relsome : I should knock you first, And then I know
after who comes by the worst. . . . Hortensio. How
now, what's the matter ? . . . Gru. Look you, sir, —

1 82 Philological Commentary. [act i.

he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, sir:
Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master
so ?_ . . . Pet. A senseless villain ! — Good Hor-
tensio, I bade the rascal knock upon your gate. And
could not get him for my heart to do it. Gru.
Knock at the gate ? — O heavens ! Spake you not
these words plain, — ' Sirrah, knock me here. Rap
me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly?*
And come you now with — knocking at the gate ? "

89. A man of any occupation. — This is explained
by Johnson as meaning " a mechanic, one of the
plebeians to whom he offered his throat." But it
looks as if it had more in it than that. In the Folios
it is " and I had been a man ; " and again in 95
" and I tell you." So also Bacon writes (Essay
23d), "Certainly it is the nature of extreme self-
lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it were
but to roast their eggs ;" and (Essay 40th), "For
time is to be honoured and respected, and it were
but for her daughters. Confidence and Reputation."

\_And or an for if is very common in old writers.

*' And why, sire," quod I, '■'• and yt like you."

Chaucer, Legend of Good Women., 319.

So wote Crist of his curteisie,
And men crye him mercy,
Bothe forgyve and forgete.

Piers Ploughman's Vis. 11 849.

And if., or an if are as frequent.

But and tfwe have this livery, if we wear his cognizance,
etc. Latimer, Sermons.

I pray thee, Launce, and z/"thou seest my boy.

Two Gent, of Verona, iii. i.

See also Matthew xxiv. 48.

Home Tooke derives an from the Saxon unnan^
to grant, as he does ff {gif in Old English) from

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 183

gifan^ to give ; and this etymology is adopted in the
last revision of Webster's Diet. Wedgwood, on the
other hand, regards the word as a fragment of even^
and Marsh, in his edition of Wedgwood, allows tliis
derivation and the long disquisition upon it, to pass
without comment. See also Richardson's Diet, and
the Bible Word-Book.'\

95. Marullus and Flavins. — In this instance the
Marullns is Murrellus in the First Folio (instead
oi Murellus^ as elsewhere).

97. I am promised forth. — An old phrase for, I
have an engagement.

102. He was quick mettle. — This is the reading
of all the old copies. I have allowed the distinction
made by the modern editors between metal and met-
tle to stand throughout the Play, although the latter
form is merely a corruption of the former. In the
First Folio it is always mettle; in 16 and 105, as
well as here and in 177 and 505.

103. However he puts on. — We should hardly
now use however., in this sense, with the indicative
mood. We should have to say, " However he may
put on." — This tardy form : this shape, semblance,
of tardiness or dulness.

104. I will come home to you . . . Come home to
7ne. — To come home to one, for to come to one's
house, is another once common phrase which is now
gone out of use.

105. Think of the world. — The only meaning
that this can have seems to be. Think of the state in
which the world is.

105. From that it is disposed. — Here we have
the omission, not only of the relative, which can
easily be dispensed with, but also of the preposition
governing it, which is an essential part of the verb ;

184 Philological Commentary. [act i.

but, illegitimate as such syntax may be, it is common
with our writers down to a date long subsequent to
Shakespeare's age. See 224.

105. Therefore it is 7neet. — It is (instead of His)
is the reading of the First Folio, which has been re-
stored by Mr. Knight. [So Dyce.] The excess here
is of a syllable (the fore of therefore) not quite so
manageable as usual, and it makes the verse move
ponderously, if we must not say halt ; but perhaps
such a prosody may be thought to be in accordance
with the grave and severe spirit of the passage.

105. With their likes. — We scarcely use this
substantive now.

105. Ccesar doth bear ?ne hard. — Evidently an
old phrase for, does not like me, bears me a grudge.
It occurs again in 199, and a third time in 344.* In
199, and there only, the editor of the Second Folio
has changed hard into hatred., in which he has been
followed by the Third and Fourth Folios, and also
by Rowe, Pope, Hanmer, and even Capel. Mr.
Collier's MS. annotator restores the hard. It is
remarkable that the expression, meeting us so often
in this one Play, should be found nowhere else in
Shakespeare. Nor have the commentators been able
to refer to an instance of its occurrence in any other
writer.

[Staunton considers the phrase " equivalent, liter-
ally, to keeps a tight rein upon me., and metaphori-
cally, to does not trust ?ne., or fears ^ or doubts me.'^
In 199 Dyce, Hudson, and White have hard.'\

105. He should not humour me. — The meaning
seems to be. If I were in his position (a favorite with
Caesar), and he in mine (disliked by Ceesar), he
should not cajole, or turn and wind, me, as I now do
him. He and me are to be contrasted by the em-

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 185

phasis, in the same manner as /and he in the pre-
ceding line. This is Warburton's explanation ; whose
remark, however, that the words convey a reflection
on Brutus's ingratitude, seems unfounded. It is
rather Brutus's simplicity that Cassius has in his
mind. It would be more satisfactory, however, if
other examples could be produced of the use of the
verb to hufnor in the sense assumed. Johnson ap-
pears to have quite mistaken the meaning of the
passage : he takes the he to be, not Brutus, but Caesar ;
and his interpretation is, " his (that is, Caesar's) love
should not take hold of my affection, so as to make
me forget my principles."

105. In several hands, — Writings in several
hands.

105. Let Ccesar seat him sure. — Seat himself
firmly (as on horseback).

Scene III. — The heading of Scene III, in the
old copies is only '^ Thunder and Lightning. Enter
Casca, and Cicero."

106. Brought you Ccesar home? — Bring^vj\\\Q}[i
is now ordinarily restricted to the sense of carrying
hither (so that we cannot say. Bring there) ^ was
formerly used in that of carrying or conveying gen-
erally. To bring one on his way, for instance, was
to accompany him even if he had been leaving the
speaker. So " Brought you Caesar home? " is. Did
you go home with Caesar ? [Compare Genesis xviii.
16 ; Acts xxi. 5 ; Romans xv. 24.] To fotch^ again,
seems always to have meant more than to bring or
to carry. " A horse cannot fetch, but only carry,"
says Launce in The Two Gent, of Ver, iii. i.

107. All the sway of earth, — That is, the bal-
anced swing of earth.

1 86 Philological Commentary. [act i.

107. Like a thing unfirm, — We have now lost
the adjective unfirm^ and we have appropriated
ififirfti almost exclusively to the human body and
mind, and their states and movements. For infirm
generally we can only say not firm.

107. Have rived. — We have nearly lost this
form, which is the one Shakespeare uses in the only
two passages in which (if we may trust to Mrs.
Clarke) the past participle passive of the verb to
rive is found in his works. The other is also in
this Play : " Brutus hath rived my heart," in 553.
Milton, again, has our modern riven in the only
passage of his poetry in which any part of the verb
to rive occurs, {^P. L. vi. 449) : " His riven arms to
havoc hewn."

107. To be exalted with. — That is, in order, or
in the effort, to be raised to the same height with.

107. A tempest dropping fire. — In the original
text these three words are joined together by
hyphens.

107. A civil strife in heaven. — A strife in which
one part of heaven wars with another. ,

108. Any thing more wonderful. — That is, any-
thing more that was wonderful. So in Coriolanus^
iv. 6 : —

The slave's report is seconded, and more,
More fearful, is delivered.

So also in King John., iv. 2 : —

Some reasons of this double coronation

I have possessed you with, and think them strong;

And more, more strong, . . .

I shall endue jou with.

109. Tou know him well by sight. — Is it to be
supposed that Casca really means to say that the
common slave whom he chanced to meet was a par-

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 187

ticular individual well known to^Cicero? Of what
importance could that circumstance be? Or for
what purpose should Casca notice it, even supposing
him to have been acquainted with the fact that Cicero
knew the man well, and yet knew him only by sight?
It is impossible not to suspect some interpolation or
corruption. Perhaps the true reading may be, "You
knew him well by sight," meaning that any one
would have known him at once to be but a common
slave (notwithstanding the preternatural appearance,
as if almost of something godlike, which his uplifted
hand ejchibited, burning but unhurt). [The incident
is taken from North's Plutarch, " There was a slave
of the souldiers that did cast a marvellous burning
flame out of his hands, insomuch as they that saw it
thought he had been burnt ; but when the fire was
out, it was found that he had no hurt." — Life of
yulius Ccesar. "You know him well by sight"
seems to me a less singular expression than the one
which Craik suggests as an emendation. It is nothing
strange that both Cicero and Casca should happen
to know a particular slave by sight, and it is natural
enough that Casca in relating this prodigy to his
friend should say, And you yourself know the man.]

109. Besides (/ have not since ^ etc. -^— In the
Folios, " I ha' not since."

109. Against the Capitol, — Over against, oppo-
site to.

109. Who glared upon me. — In all the Folios
the word is glazed. Pope first changed it to glared.
Malone afterwards substituted gazed^ partly on the
strength of a passage in Stowe's Chronicle, — which
gave Steevens an opportunity of maliciously rejoin-
ing, after quoting other instances of Shakespeare's
use of glare^ " I therefore continue to repair the

1 88 Philological Commentary. [act i.

poet with his own animated phraseology, rather than
with the cold expression suggested by the narrative
of Stowe ; who, having been a tailor, was undoubt-
edly equal to the task of mending Shakespeare's
hose, but, on poetical emergencies, must not be
allowed to patch his dialogue." Glared is also the
correction of Mf. Collier's MS. annotator.

109. Drawn upon a heap. — Gathered together
in a heap, or crowd. " Among this princely heap,"
says Gloster in Richard III. ii. i. Heap was in
common use in this sense throughout the seventeenth
century. [Compare Chaucer, Prioresses Tale: —

A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood
Doun at the ferther ende, in which ther were
Children an hepe comen of Cristen blood.]

109. The bird of night. — The owl ; as the "bird
of dawning" (the cock) in Hamlet., i. i.

109. Hooting and shrieking. — Howti^tg is the
word in the first three Folios, houting in the Fourth.

109. Even at noonday., etc. — There may be a
question as to the prosody of this line ; whether we
are to count even a monosyllable and throw the ac-
cent upon day., or making even a dissyllable and
accenting noon., to reckon day supernumerary.

109. These are their reasons., etc. — That such and
such are their reasons. It is the same form of expres-
sion that we have afterwards in 147 : "Would run to
these and these extremities." But the present line
has no claim to either a distinctive type or inverted
commas. It is not as if it were " These are our rea-
sons." [Collier in his "Regulated Text" adopts
the emendation, seasons., of his MS. annotator, but
in his second edition he returns to the old reading.]

109. Unto the climate. — The region of the earth,
according to the old geographical division of the

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 189

globe into so many Climates^ which had no refer-
ence, or only an accidental one, to differences of tem-
perature.

no. A strange-dzspQsed time. — We should now
have to use the adverb in this kind of combination.
If we still say strange-shaped^ it is because there we
seem to have a substantive for the adjective to qual-
ify ; just as we have in higJi-mind-ed^ strong-mind-
ed^ able-bodi-ed^ and other similar forms. In other
cases, again, it is the adjective, and not the adverb,
that enters into the composition of the verb ; thus we
say strange-looking., mad-lookijzg^ heavy-looking.^
etc., because the verb is to look strange^ etc., not to
look strangely (which has quite another meaning).
Poreign-built may be regarded as an irregular for-
mation, occasioned probably by our having no such
adverb as foreignly. Even in home-built., home-
baked., home-brewed., home-grown., home-made., etc.,
the adverb home has a meaning {at home) which it
never has when standing alone.

no. Clean fro7n the purpose. — A use of clean
(for completely) now come to be accounted inelegant,
though common in the translation of the Bible. [See
Ps. Ixxvii. 8 ; Isa. xxiv. 19, etc.] ''^Profn the pur-
pose " is away from the purpose.

112. The metre of this speech stands, or rather
stumbles, thus in the original edition : —

Good night then, Caska :
This disturbed Skie is not to walke in.

II 7' Tour ear is good., etc. — The old copies have
"What night is this?" But, notwithstanding the
supernumerary short syllable, the only possible read-
ing seems to be the one which I have given : " Cas-
eins, what a night is this ! " The a is plainly indis-
pensable ; for surely Casca cannot be supposed to

190 Philological Commentary. [act i.

ask what day of the month it is. What he says can
only be understood as an exclamation, similar to that
of Cinna, in 135 : " What a fearful night is this ! "
As foi the slight irregularity in the prosody, it is of
perpetual occurrence. [" What night is this ! " is
equivalent to " What a night," etc. In such excla-
mations it was not unusual to omit " a ". Compare
in Two Gent, of Verona^ i. 2, —

What fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to mj view !

and in Twelfth Nighty ii. 5, —

Fab. What dish o' poison has she dressed him I

Sir To. And with what wing the staniel checks at itl]

120. So full of faults. — The vford faulty for-
merly, though often signifying no more than it now
does, carried sometimes (as here) a much greater
weight of meaning than we now attach to it. Com-
pare 143.

120. The thunder-stone, — The thunder-stone is
the imaginary product of the thunder, which the
ancients called Brontia., mentioned by Pliny (iV. H,
xxxvii. 10) as a species of gem, and as that which,
falling with the lightning, does the mischief. It is
the fossil commonly called the Belemnite, or Finger-
stone, and now known t© be a shell. We still talk
of the thunder-bolt ., which, however, is commonly
confounded with the lightning. The thunder-stone
was held to be quite distinct from the lightning, as
may be seen from the song of Guiderius and Arvira-
gus in Cymbeline^ iv. 2 : —

Guid. Fear no more the lightning-flash.
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone.

It is also alluded to in Othello.^ v. 2 : —

Are there no stones in heaveiif
But what serve for the thunder?

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 191

122. Tou are dull^ etc. — The commencement of
this speech is a brilliant specimen of the blank verse
of the original edition : —

You are dull, Caska :
And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman,
You doe want, or else you use not.
You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare,
And cast yourselfe in wonder,
To see, . . .

122. Cast yourself in wonder. — Does this mean
throvj yourself into a paroxysm of wonder ? Or may
cast yourself mean cast your self or your mind,
about ^ as in idle conjecture? The commentators
are mute. Shakespeare sometimes has in where we
should now use into. In an earlier stage of the lan-
guage, the distinction now established between in
and into was constantly disregarded ; and in some
idiomatic expressions, the radical fibres of a national
speech, we still have in used to express what is com-
monly and regularly expressed by into. To fall in
love is a familiar example. Perhaps we continue to
say in love as marking more forcibly the opposition to
what Julia in the concluding line of Act IV. of The
Tivo Gentlemen of Verona calls out of love. The
expression cast yourself in wonder seems to be most
closely paralleled by another in Richard III. i. 3 :
" Clarence, whom I, indeed, have cast in darkness,'*
as it stands in the First Folio, although the preceding
Qiiartos (of which there were five, 1597, 1598, 1602,
161 2 or 1613, 1622) have all " laid in darkness." We
have another instance of Shakespeare's use of in
where we should now say into in the familiar lines
in The Merchant of Venice., v. i : —

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bankl
Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears.

192 Philological Commentary. [act i.

[Collier, Dyce, Hudson, and Staunton have cast.
White substitutes case^ and quotes Much Ado, iv. i :
" I am so attired in wonder."

Other instances of in for into are, —

Dost thou come here to whine ?

To outface me with leaping in her grave ?

Hamlet, v. i.

And bubbling from her breast it doth divide

In two slow rivers. Lucrece, 1738.

But first I'll turn jon fellow in his grave.

Richard III. i. 2.

See also Deuteron. xxiv. i ; 2 Kings ix. 25.]
122. Why old men ^ etc. — Blackstone's novel point-
ing of this passage is ingenious : " Why old men
fools" {i. e. why we have all these fires, etc., why
we have old men fools). [So Collier, Dyce, and
Staunton. White has '' Why old men fool," etc ;
Hudson, " Why old men, fools, and children," etc.
I prefer White's reading.] But the amendment is
hardly required ; or, at any rate, it would not go far
to give us a perfectly satisfactory text. Nor does
there seem to be any necessity for assigning to calcu-
late the singular sense of prophesy (which the ex-
pression adduced by Johnson, to calculate a nativ-
ity^ is altogether insufficient to authorize). There is
probably some corruption ; but the present line may
be very well understood as meaning mer^y, why not
only old men, but even fools and children, speculate
upon the future ; or, still more simply, why all per-
sons, old and young, and the foolish as well as the
wise, take part in such speculating and prognosticat-
ing. Shakespeare may have been so far from think-
ing, with Blackstone, that it was something unnatural
and prodigious for old men ever to be fools, that he
has even designed to classify them with foolish persons

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 193

generally, and with children, as specially disqualified
for looking with any very deep insight into the future.
And so doubtless they are apt to be, when very old.

122. Unto some monstrous state. — That is, I sup-
pose, some monstrous or unnatural state of things
(not some overgrown commonwealth).

122. And roars., etc. — That is, roars in the Cap-
itol as doth the lion. Many readers, I believe, infer
from this passage that Caesar is compared by Cas-
sius to some live lion that was kept in the Capitol^
Oi^-perhaps it may be sometimes imagined that he
alludes to the same lion which Casca (though not in
his hearing) has just been telling Cicero that he had
met " against the Capitol." The Second and two
following Folios have tears for roars.

122. No mightier than thyself., or me. — Of
course, in strict grammar it should be than I. But
the personal pronouns must be held to be, in some
measure, emancipated from the dominion or tyranny
of syntax. Who would rectify even Shelley's bold

lest there be
No solace left for thou and me ?

[And who would venture to imitate it?] The gram-
matical law has so slight a hold that a mere point
of euphony is deemed sufficient to justify the neglect
of it.

As we have me for / in the present passage, we
have / for me in Antonio's " All debts are cleared
between you and I" (^Merchant of Venice^ iii. 2).

132. \^Prodigious grown. — That is, portentous ;
as in the other cases in which Shakespeare uses the
word, except where Launce {Two Gent, of Ver.
ii. 3) speaks of " the prodigious son."]

124. I^et it be who it is. — Not who it maybe;
Cassius, in his present mood, is above that subterfuge.
13

194 Philological Commentary. [act i.

While he abstains from pronouncing the name, he
will not allow it to be supposed that there is any
doubt about the actual existence of the man he has
been describing.

124. Thews and limbs. — \^Thews here means
muscular powers, as in the only other two instances
in which Shakespeare uses the word. '^ Care I,** says
Falstaff, in the Second Part of King Henry IV, iii.
2, " for the limb, the thews^ the stature, bulk, and
big assemblance of a man ? Give me the spirit, Mas-
ter Shallow." So Laertes, in Hamlet^ i. 3, —

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In the-ws and bulk ; but, as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal.

The word is from the Saxon theow or tkeoh,
whence also thigh^ and must not be confounded
with the obsolete M^W5= manners, or qualities of
mind, which is from the Saxon theaw. This latter
thews is common in Spenser, Chaucer, and earlier
writers ; the former is found very rarely before
Shakespeare's day. George Turbervile, in his trans-
lation of Ovid's Epistles.^ first printed in 1567, has
" the thews of Helen's passing [that is, surpassing]
form." In the earlier version of Layamon's Brut^
also, which belongs to the end of the twelfth cen-
tury, we have in one place (verse 6361), " Monnene
strengest of maine and of theatve of alle thissere
theode " (of men strongest of main, or strength, and
of sinew, of all this land). But Sir Frederick Mad-
den remarks (III. 471), "This is the only instance
in the poem of the word being applied to bodily
qualities, nor has any other passage of an earlier
date than the sixteenth century been found in which
it is so used."]

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 195

124. But^ woe the while I — This, I believe, is
commonly understood to mean, alas for the present
time ; but may not the meaning, here at least, rather
be, alas for what hath come to pass in the mean
while, or in the interval that has elapsed since the
better days of our heroic ancestors?

1 24. And we are governed with. — We now com-
monly employ by to denote agency and with where
there is only instrumentality ; but that distinction
was not formerly so fully established, and with was
used more frequently than it is with us. Shake-
speare even has {Rich. II. iii. 2), "I live w//-^ bread
like you, feel want, taste grief." [He has also " at-
tended with a desperate train," in Lear^ ii. 4 ; and
Bacon, too, has " attended with Callisthenes," in the
Adv. of Learning .^ i. 2, § 11.]

126. / know where I will wear this dagger^
then. — The true meaning of this line is ruined by
its being printed, as it is in the old, and also in most
of the modern editions, without the comma. [Col-
lier, Hudson, and White have the comma ; Dyc^has
not.] Cassius does not intend to be understood as
intimating that he is prepared to plunge his dagger
into his heart at that time., but in that case.

126. Can be retentive to. — Can retain or confine
the spirit.

1 26. If I know this. etc. — The logical connection
of " If I know this " is with " That part of tyranny,
etc. ; but there is also a rhetorical connection with
" Know all the world besides." As if he had said,
" Knowing this, I can shake off, etc. ; and, I know-
ing this, let all others too know and beware that
I can," etc.

1 27. The power to cancel^ etc. — Here we have
power reduced to a monosyllable, although it had

196 Philological Commentary. [act i.

been employed as a dissyllable only five lines be-
fore— " Never lacks power," etc.

128. He were no lion^ etc. — His imagination is
still filled W\\ki the image hy which he has already
pictured the tyranny of the Dictator ; — " roars, as
doth the lion, in the Capitol." — Hind^ a she stag,
is correctly formed from the Saxon hinde^ of the
same^ meaning ; our other hind^ a peasant, was
originally hine and hina^ and has taken the d only
for the sake of a fuller or firmer enunciation. It
may be noted, however, that, although there is a
natural tendency in certain syllables to seek this
addition of breadth or strength, it is most apt to
operate when it is aided, as here, by the existence of
some other word or form to which the d properly
belongs. Thus, soun (from so7zner and sond) has
probably been the more easily converted into sound
from having become confounded in the popular ear
and understanding with the adjective sound and the
verb to sounds meaning to search ; and such obso-
lete or dialectic forms as drownd and swound (for
drown and swoon) may be supposed to have been
the more readily produced through the misleading
influence of the parts of the verb which actually and
properly end in d or ed. As we have confounded
the old hinde and hine^ so we have also the Saxon
heord^ meaning a flock or crowd (the modern Ger-
man heerde)^ with hyrde^ meaning a keeper or
tender (the modern German hir£) ; our one form
for both being now herd.

1 28. My answer must be made. — I must answer
for what I have said.

129. To such a man^ That is^ etc. — See 57. —
Tojleer {orjlear, as is the old spelling) is to mock,
or laugh at. The word appears to have come to us

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 197

from the Norse or Scandinavian branch of the
Gothic, — one of the sources of our English tongue
which recent philology has almost abjured, although,
besides all else, we owe to it even forms of such
perpetual occurrence as the are of the substantive
verb and the ordinary sign of our modern genitive
(for such a use of the preposition of^ common to u»
with the Swedish, is unknown to the classical Eng-
lish of the times before the Norman Conquest,
although we have it in full activity, probably adopted
from the popular speech of the northern counties,
in the written language of the twelfth centmy).

129. Hold^ 7ny hand. — That is, Have, receive,
take hold (of it) ; there is my hand. The comma
is distinctly marked in the early editions. [Staunton
omits it.]

129. Be factious for redress of all these griefs. —
Yi^xQ, factious seems to mean nothing more than
active or urgent, although everywhere else, I believe,
in Shakespeare the word is used in the same disrep-
utable sense which it has at present. Griefs (the
form still used in the French language, and retained
in our own with another meaning) is his by far more
common word for what we now call grievances^
although he has that form too occasionally (which
Milton nowhere employs). See 435.

130. To undergo^ with me^ a7i enterprise. — We
should now rather say to undertake where there is
anything to be done.

130. Of honorable-dangerous. — These two words
were probably intended to make a compound adjec-
tive, although the hyphen with which they are con-
nected by most of the modern editors is not in the
oldest printed text. The language does not now, at
least in serious composition, indulge in compounds

198 Philological Commentary. [act i.

of this description. Shakespeare, however, has ap-
parently several such. Thus : —

More active-valiant, or more valiant-young.
I He7t. IV. V. I.

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold.

Love's Lab. Lost, ii. i.

More fertile-fresh than all the field to see.

Mer. W. of Wind. v. 5.

So full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

T-welftk Night, i. i.

130. By this they stay for me. — That is, by this
time. And it is a mode of expression which, like so
many others which the language once possessed, we
have now lost. Yet we still say, in the same sense,
ere this., before this^ after this., the preposition in
these phrases being felt to be suggestive of the notion
of time in a way that by is not.

130. There is no , . . walking. — In another
connection this might mean, that there was no pos-
sibility of walking ; but here the meaning apparently
is that there was no walking going on.

130. The complexion of the element. — That is,
of the heaven, of the sky. North, in his Plutarch^
speaks of " the fires in the element." The word in
this sense was much in favor with the fine writers or
talkers of Shakespeare's day. He has a hit at the
affectation in his Twelfth Night., iii. i, where the
Clown, conversing with Viola, says, " Who you are,
and what you would, are out of my welkin : I might
say, element: but the word is over-worn." Of
course, welkin is, and is intended to be, far more
absurd. Yet we have element for the sky or the air
in other passages besides the present. Thus : —

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 199

The element itself, ...

Shall not behold her face at ample view.

Twelfth Night, i. i.

" I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much
as the full moon doth the cinders of the element,
which show like pins' heads to her " {^Falstaff^ in 2
Hen. IV. iv. 3).

It is curious to find writers of the present day who
are scrupulous about the more delicate proprieties
of expression still echoing Shakespeare's dissatisfac-
tion : " The territorial element^ to use that favorite
word," says Hallam, Mid. Ages^ I. 297 {edit, of
1855), probably without any thought of the remark
of the all-observing dramatist two centuries and a
half before.

130. Infavouf^s like the work. — The reading in
all the Folios is, " Is favors" (or " favours" for the
Third and Fourth). The present reading, which is
that generally adopted, was first proposed by John-
son ; and it has the support, it seems, of Mr. Collier's
MS. annotator. [It is adopted by Dyce, Hudson,
and White.] Favour (see 54) means aspect, ap-
pearance, features. Another emendation that has
been proposed (by Steevens) is, " Is favoured." But
to say that the complexion of a thing is either fea-
tured like, or in feature like, to something else is very
like a tautology. I should be strongly inclined to
adopt Reed's ingenious conjecture, " Is feverous,"
which he supports by quoting from Macbeth., ii. 3 :
" Some say the earth Was feverous and did shake."
So also in Coriolanus., i. 4 : " Thou mad'st thine
enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous and
did tremble." Feverous is exactly the sort of word
that, if not very distinctly written, would be apt to
puzzle and be mistaken by a compositor. It may

200 Philological Commentary. [act i.

perhaps count, too, for something, though not very
much, against both "favour's like" and "favoured
like " that a very decided comma separates the two
w^ords in the original edition.

134. One incorporate To our attempts. — One
of our body, one united w^ith us in our enterprise.
The expression has probably no more emphatic im-
port.

135. There^s two or three, — The contraction
there's is still used indifferently with a singular or a
plural ; though there is scarcely would te. [On /
am glad on't^ see 50.]

136. Am I not staid for ? — This is the original
reading, which has been restored by Mr. Knight.
The common modern reading is, " Am I not staid
for, Cinna ? " the last word being inserted (and that
without notice, which is unpardonable) only to sat-
isfy the supposed demands of the prosody.

137. This speech stands thus in the First Folio : —

Yes, you are. O Cassius,
If you could but winne the Noble Brutus
To our party — .

The common metrical arrangement [which Hudson
follows] is, —

Yes,

You are. O Cassius, if you could but win

The noble Brutus to our party.

No person either having or believing himself to have
a true feeling of the Shakespearian rhythm can be-
lieve this to be right. Nor am I better satisfied with
Mr. Knight's distribution of the lines, although it is
adopted by Mr. Collier : —

Yes, you are.
O, Cassius, if you could but win the noble Brutus
To our party ; —

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 201

which gives us an extended line equally unmusical
and undignified whether read rapidly or slowly,
followed (to make matters worse which were bad
enough already) by what could scarcely make the
commencement of any kind of line. I cannot doubt
that, whatever we are to do with "Yes, you are," —
whether we make these comparatively unimportant
words the comjDletion of the line of which Cassius's
question forms the beginning, or take them along
with what follows, which would give us a line want-
ing only the first syllable (and deriving, perhaps,
from that mutilation an abruptness suitable to the
occasion) , — the close of the rhythmic flow must be as
I have given it : —

O Cassius, if you could
But win the noble Brutus to our party.

[Collier, Dyce, and Staunton adopt Craik's ar-
rangement. White follows Knight, but suspects that
the passage is corrupt.]

138. Where Brutus may but find it, — If but be
the true word (and be not a misprint for best)^ the
meaning must be. Be sure you lay it in. the praetor's
chair, 07ily taking care to place it so that Brutus may
be sure to find it.

138. Upon old Brutus^ statue. — Lucius Brutus,
who expelled the Tarquins, the reputed ancestor of
Marcus Lucius Brutus ; also alluded to in ^6t^ " There
was a Brutus once," etc.

139. I will hie. — To hie (meaning to hasten) is
used reflectively, as well as intransitively, but not
otherwise as an active verb.

139. And so bestow these papers. — This use of
bestow (for to place, or dispose of) is now gone out ;
though something of it still remains in stow. [Com-
pare 2 Kings V. 24; Luke xii. 17, 18.]

202 Philological Commentary. [act i.

140. Pomfey's theatre. — The same famous struc-
ture of Pompey's, opened with shows and games of
unparalleled cost and magnificence some ten or
twelve years before the present date, which has been
alluded to in 130 and 138.

143. Tou have right well conceited. — To conceit
is another form of our still familiar to conceive. And
the noun conceit^ which survives with a limited
meaning (the conception of a man by himself, which
is so apt to be one of over-estimation), is also fre-
quent in Shakespeare with the sense, nearly, of what
we now call conception., in general. So in 348.
Sometimes it is used in a sense which might almost
be said to be the opposite of what it now means ; as
when Juliet (in Romeo and Juliet^ ii. 5) employs it
as the term to denote her all-absorbing affection for
Romeo : —

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth ;
But my true love is grown to such excess,
I cannot sum the sum of half my wealth.

Or as when Gratiano, in The Merchant of Venice^
i. I, speaks of a sort of men who

do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dressed in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit —

that is, deep thought.

So, again, when Rosaline, in Love's Labour's
Lost^ ii. I, speaking of Biron, describes his "fair
tongue " as " conceit's expositor," all that she means
is, that speech is the expounder of thought. The
scriptural expression, still in familiar use, " wise in
his own conceit," means merely wise in his own
thought, or in his own eyes, as we are told in the

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 3053

margin the Hebrew literally signifies. In the New
Testament, where we have " in their own conceits,"
the Greek is simply <nrap' kavToT^ (in or with them-
selves).

ACT II.

Scene I. — The heading here in the Folios (in
which there is no division into Scenes) is merely,
''''Enter Brutus in his Orchard^ Assuming that
Brutus was probably not possessed of what we now
call distinctively an orchard (which may have been
the case), the modern editors of the earlier part of
the last century took upon them to change Orchard
into Garden. But this is to carry the work of rec-
tification (even if we should admit it to be such)
beyond what is warrantable. To deprive Brutus in
this way of his orchard was to mutilate or alter
Shakespeare's conception. It is probable that the
words Orchard and Garden were commonly under-
stood in the early part of the seventeenth century in
the senses which they now bear ; but there is nothing
in their etymology to support the manner in which
they have come to be distinguished. In Much Ado
About Nothing-^ ii. 3, although the scene is headed
'''' Leonatd s Garden^" Benedick, sending the Boy for
a book from his chamber-window, says, " Bring it
hither to me in the orchard." A Garden {or yard^
as it is still called in Scotland) means merely a piece
of ground girded in or enclosed ; and an Orchard
(properly Ortyard) is, literally, such an enclosure
for ivorts^ or herbs. At one time Orchard used to
be written Horlyard^ under the mistaken notion that
it was derived from hortus (which may, however,
be of the same stock).

204 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

143. How near to day. — How near it may be to
the day.

143. I would it were my fault. — Compare the
use oi fault here with its sense in 120,

143. Whejz^ JLucius? when? — This exclamation
had not formerly the high tragic or heroic sound
which it would now have. It was merely a cus-
tomary way of calling impatiently to one who had
not obeyed a previous summons. vSo in Richard
II. (i. 2) John of Gaunt calls to his son, '' When,
Harry? when? Obedience bids, I should not bid
again."

147. But for the general. — The general was
formerly a common expression for what we now
call the community or the people. Thus Angelo in
Measure for Measure., ii. 4 : —

The general, subject to a well-wished king,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Crowd to his presence.

147. And that craves. — It might be questioned
whether that here be the demonstrative (as it is
commonly considered) or the relative (to the ante-
cedent " the bright day ").

147. Crown him? That. — Here the emphatic
that appears to be used exactly as so often is. See
^^. Either, or any equivalent term, thus used, might
obviously serve very well for the sign of affirmation ;
in the present passage we might substitute yes for
that with the same effect. It used to be held that
the French oui., anciently oyl^ was merely the ill of
the classic ill-e., ill-a^ ilUud., and that the old Pro-
venyal oc was hoc. It appears, however, that oui or
oyl is really voul {ox je voul)^ the old present of
vouloir. The common word ior yes in Italian, again,
si (not unknown in the same sense to the French

sc. I.] Julius C-^sar. 205'

tongue), may be another form of so. The three lan-
guages used to be distinguished as the Langue d' Oyl
(or Lmgua Oytana)^ the Langue d' Ck: (or Lingua
Occita7ia)^ and the Lingua di Si. The pointing in
the First FoHo here is, " Crowne him that, And
then," etc. [Littre {Hist, de la Lafzgue Fra^igaise^
1863, vol. i. p. 155) derives oui from hoc-illud. He
says that there is no dispute in regard to the origin
of the -// of the old form oil^ but only in regard to
the 0-, which Reynouard and most others believe to be
the Latin hoc. Burguy argues that it is the old Cel-
tic preposition d =: ab^ de^ ex^ w^hich is sometimes
used as a conjunction, =: ex quo^ and sometimes as
an adverb ; but Littre proves very clearly, I think,
that he is wrong. Chevallet {Origlne et Forma-
lion de la Lang. Fr.^ vol. iii. p. 310 foil.) says
thatc*// or oil is an elliptical expression for o {z=l hoc)
est il=zcest cela: oil became ouil and finally 02//.
Diez {Etymol. Worterb.) also makes oui ■=. hoc-
illud., and Scheler {Diet, d' Etyinologie Frangaise*
1862) says that this derivation, though it has been
vehemently disputed, cannot be overthrown J

147. Do danger. — [The history of the word
danger is curious and instructive. Damnum in
Medieval Latin signified a legal fine or " damages."
It was thence applied to the limits within which a
lord could exact such fines, and so to the enclosed
field of a proprietor. In this sense the word was
often rendered do?nmage^ dommaige^ or damage^ in
French. It next acquired the sense of trespass, as
in the legal phrase damage feasant., whence the
French damager., to seize cattle found in trespass.
From this verb came the abstract domigerium., sig-
nifying the power of exacting a dafnnum or fine for
trespass. From domigerium to danger the transi-

2o6 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

tion was natural, and the latter was equally applied
to the right of exacting a fine for breach of territorial
rights, or to the fine, or to the rights themselves. To
be in the danger of any one, estre en son danger^
came to signify to be in his power, or liable to a
penalty to be inflicted by him or at his suit, and hence
the ordinary meaning of the word at the present day.
We have, in the Mercha^it of Venice^ iv. i, —

You stand -within his danger^ do you not?

From the meaning of penalty or fine, danger came
to signify the license obtained to secure exemption
from such penalty, or the price paid for such license ;
and thence the difficulties about giving permission or
complying with a request, or absolute refusal. For
a fuller history of the word, and for passages illus-
trating its changes of meaning, see Wedgwood.
The Bible Word-Book gives a few additional pas-
sages.]

147. The abuse of greatness is^ etc. — The mean-
ing apparently is, '' The abuse to which greatness is
most subject is when it deadens in its possessor the
natural sense of humanity, or of that which binds us
to our kind ; and this I do not say that it has yet
done in the case of Caesar ; I have never known that
in him selfish affection, or mere passion, has carried
it over reason." Remorse is generally used by
Shakespeare in a wider sense than that to which it
is now restricted.

147. But 'tis a common proof — A thing com-
monly proved or experienced (what commonly, as
we should say, proves to be the case).

A frequent word with Shakespeare for to prove
is to approve. Thus, in the Two Gentlemen of
Verona^ v. 4, we have, —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 207

O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved,
When viromen cannot love where they're beloved.

So, in Much Ado About Nothings we have, in iv.
I, "an approved w^anton," and afterwards "Is he
not approved in the height a villain ? " When Don
Pedro in the same Play, ii. i, describes Benedick as
" of approved valour," the meaning is merely, that
he had proved his valor by his conduct. So in
Hamlet^ i. i, Marcellus says, speaking of Horatio
and the Ghost, —

I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
That, if again this apparition come.
He may approve our eyes, and speak to it;

that is, prove our eyes true. And in Meas. for
Meas, i. 3, Claudio says, —

This day my sister should the cloister enter,
And there receive her approbation —

for what we now call probation. This sense of the
word (which we still retain in the law-term an
approver^ in Latin probator) occurs repeatedly both
in the Bible and in Milton, and in fact is the most
common sense which it has in our earlier English.
\_Approve is used in the New Testament in two
senses: i. To prove, demonstrate; Acts ii. 22;
2 Cor, vi. 4, vii. 11. Compare '•'•approve it with
a text" in Mer. of Venice^ iii. 2. — 2. To put to
the proof, test, try ; Rom. ii. 18 ; Phil. i. 10. So
in ist Henry IV. iv. i, —

Nay, task me to the word, approve me, lord.]

147. Whereto the climber upward., etc. — There
is no hyphen in the original text connecting clitnber
and upward^ as there is in some modern editions ;
but any doubt as to whether the adverb should be

2o8 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

taken along with clifnber or with turns might be
held to be determined by the expression in Macbeth^
iv. 2 : " Things at the worst will cease, or else climb
upw^ards To what they were before."

147. The upmost round. — The step of a ladder
has come to be called a rounds I suppose, from its
being usually cylindrically shaped. Mr. Knight
(whose collation of the old copies is in general so
remarkably careful) has here (probably by a typo-
graphical error) utmost.

147. The base degrees. — The lower steps of the
ladder — les bas degres (from the \^2i'i\w gradus) of
the French. The epithet base^ however, must be
understood to express something of contempt, as well
as to designate the position of the steps.

147. Then^ lest he may^ prevent. — We should not
now say to prevent lest. But the word prevent con-
tinued to convey its original import of to come before
more distinctly in Shakespeare's day than it does now.
See 161 and 708.

147. Will bear no colour for the thing he is. —
Will take no appearance of being a just quarrel, if
professedly founded upon what Caesar at present
actually is. The use of color^ and colorable., in this
sense is still familiar.

147. What he is-, augmented. — What he now is,
if augmented or heightened (as it is the nature of
things that it should be).

147. Would run to these., etc. — To such and such
extremities (which we must suppose to be stated and
explained). See 109.

147. Think him as. — The verb to think has now
lost this sense, though we might still say " Think
him a serpent's ^zz'^ " Think him good or wicked,"
and also " To think a good or evil thought."

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 209

147. As his kind, — Like his species.

147. And kill him in the shell. — It is impossible
not to feel the expressive effect of the hemistich here.
The line itself is, as it were, killed in the shell.

148. This speech is headed in the Folios " Enter
Lucius'' The old stage direction, '-^ Gives him the
Letter^' is omitted by most of the modern editors.

149. The ides of March. — The reading of all
the ancient copies is, " ikio. first of March." It was
Theobald who first made the correction, which has
been adopted by all succeeding editors (on the ground
that the day was actually that of the ides). At the
same time, it does not seem to be impossible that the
poet may have intended to present a strong image
of the absorption of Brutus by making him forget the
true time of the month. The reply of Lucius after
consulting the Calendar = — "Sir, March is wasted
fourteen days" — sounds very much as if he were
correcting rather than confirming his master's notion.
Against this view we have the considerations stated
by Warburton : " We can never suppose the speak-
er to have lost fourteen days in his account. He is
here plainly ruminating on what the Soothsayer told
Caesar (i. 2) in his presence {Beware the ides of
March)." Mr. Collier also prints "the ides;" but
the correction does not appear to be made by his MS.
annotator. Mr. Knight, I apprehend, must be in
error in saying that Shakespeare found " thQ first of
March " in North's Plutarch : the present incident
is not related by Plutarch. [Knight may have re-
ferred to this passage in North's Plutarch {Life of
Brutus) : " Cassius did first of all speak to Brutus,
and asked him if he were determined to be in the
senate-house, the first day of the month of March^
because he heard say that Cassar's friends should

H

2IO Philological Commentary, [act ii.

move the Council that day that Caesar should be
called king by the senate," etc.]

153. Brutus^ thou sleefst; awake. — I have en-
deavored to indicate by the printing that the second
enunciation of these words is a repetition by Brutus
to himself, and not, as it is always made to appear, a
further portion of the letter. [Collier agrees with
Craik ; Dyce, Hudson, and White do not.] The let-
ter unquestionably concluded with the emphatic adju-
ration, " Speak, strike, redress ! " It never, after this,
would have proceeded to go over the ground again
in the same words that had been already used. They
would have only impaired the effect, and would have
been quite inappropriate in their new place. We
see how the speaker afterwards repeats in the like
manner each of the other clauses before commenting
upon it.

153. Where I have took, — See 46.

153. Speak^ strike^ redress I — Am I entreated^
etc. — The expression is certainly not strengthened
by the then which was added to these words by
Hanmer, in the notion that it was required by the
prosody, and has been retained by Steevens and other
modern editors. At the same time Mr. Knight's
doctrine, that " a pause, such as must be made after
redress^ stands in the place of a syllable," will, at
any rate, not do here ; for we should want two sylla-
bles after redress. The best way is to regard the
supposed line as being in reality two hemistichs ; or
to treat the words repeated from the letter as no part
of the verse. How otherwise are we to manage the
preceding quotation, " Shall Rome, etc." ? [See

153. I make thee promise. — I make proiiiise to
thee. In another connection, the words might mean

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 211

I make thee to promise. The Second Foho has
" the promise." The heading that follows this
speech, and also 155, in the First Folio is JEnter
Lucius.

154. March is wasted fourteen days. — In all
the old editions it is Ji/teen. The correction was
made by Theobald. See 149. Mr. Collier has also
fourteen; but he does not here appear to have the
authority of his MS. annotator. The heading which
precedes is '''-JEnter Lucius " in the original text.

155. The genius a7id the mortal instruments. —
The commentators have written and disputed lavishly
upon these celebrated words. Apparently, by the
genius we are to understand the contriving and im-
mortal mind, and most probably the mortal instru-
ments are the earthly passions. The best light for
the interpretation of the present passage is reflected
from 186, where Brutus, advising with his fellow-
conspirators on the manner in which they should
despatch their mighty victim, not as bloodthirsty
butchers, but as performing a sacrifice of which they
lamented the necessity, says, —

^ Let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide 'em.

The servants here may be taken to be the same with
the instruments in the passage before us. It has
been proposed to understand by the mortal instru-
ments the bodily powers or organs ; but it is not ob-
vious how these could be said to hold consultation
with the genius or mind. Neither could they in the
other passage be so fitly said to be-stirred up by the
heart.

The bodily organs, however, seem to be distinctly
designated the instruments and agents., in Coriola-

212 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

nus^ i. I, where, first, Menenius Agrippa says, in his
apologue of the rebellion of the other members of
the body against the belly, —

The other instruments
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body, —

and, shortly after, the Second Citizen asks, —

The former agents, if they did complain,
What could the belly answer?

So again in Macbeth^ i. 7 : —

I am settled, and bent up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

[On this passage compare Troilus and Cressida^
ii. 3 : —

'Twixt his mental and his active parts
Kingdomed Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself.]

155. And the state of a man. — This is the origi-
nal reading, in which the prosodical irregularity is
nothing more than what frequently occurs. The
common reading omits the article. There is cer-
tainly nothing gained in vividness of expression by
so turning the concrete into the abstract. We have
elsewhere, indeed, in Macbeth^ i. 3, " My single state
of man ; " and Falstaff, in the Second Part of Henry
IV. iv. 4, speaks of " This little kingdom, man ; "
but in neither of these cases is the reference in the
word man to an individual, as here. [Collier, Dyce,
Hudson, Staunton, and White omit the «, which is
obviously a misprint of the Folio. Knight retains
it, but Dyce reminds him that in his (K.'s) National
JEdition of Shakespeare, his own printer has acci-
dentally inserted an a in jfulius Ccesar^ iv. 3 : —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 213

I said an elder soldier, not a better :
Did I say a better?

And Craik's printer has falsified the text in 6^^ " He
is a noble Roman," by omitting the a^ and the editor
has overlooked the error, just as the proof-reader of
1623 did here.] The Exit Lucius attached to the
first line of this speech is modern.

156. Tour brother Cassius. — Cassius had mar-
ried Junia, the sister of Brutus.

158. No^ Sir^ there are moe with him. — Moe^
not more^ is the word here and in other passages,
not only in the First, but in all the Four Folios. It
was probably the common form in the popular speech
throughout the seventeenth century, as it still is in
Scotland in the dialectic meh' (pronounced exactly
as the English may). No confusion or ambiguity is
produced in this case by the retention of the old
word, of continual occurrence both in Chaucer and
Spenser, such as makes it advisable to convert the
then^ which the original text of the Plays gives us
after the comparative, into our modern than. In
some cases, besides, the moe is absolutely required
by the verse ; as in Balthazar's Song in Much Ado
About Nothing (ii. 3) : —

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,

Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The frauds of men were ever so,

Since summer first was leavy.

[The modern editors, so far as I know, all give
more^ except where the rhyme requires moe. In the
Bible, edition of 161 1, moe is the comparative of
many^ but it does not seem to have been used for the
adverb.]

160. Plucked about their ears. — Pulled down
about their ears.

214 Philological Commentary, [act it.

i6o. By any mark of favour » — That is, of fea-
ture or countenance. See 54.

161. When evils are most free I — When evil
things have most freedom.

161. To mask thy monstrous visage? — The only
prosodical irregularity in this line is the common one
of the one supernumerary short syllable (the age of
visage) . The two unaccented syllables which follow
the fifth accented one have no effect.

161. J^or, if thou fath^ thy native semblance
on. — Coleridge has declared himself convinced that
we should here read " if thou fut thy native sem-
blance on ; " and Mr. Knight is inclined to agree
with him, seeing \kvdX ^utte might be easily mistaken
for pathe. If path be the word, the meaning must
be. If thou go forth. Path is employed as a verb by
Drayton, but not exactly in this sense : he speaks of
pathing a passage, and pathing a way, that is, making
or smoothing a passage or way. There is no comma
or other point after fath in the old copies. [White
is " inclined to the opinion that fath is a misprint
for hadst; " which is not unlikely. The Quarto of
1691 has hath.']

161. To hide thee from, prevention, — To prevent
(praevenire) is to come before, and so is equivalent
in effect with to hinder^ which is literally to make
behind. I make that behind me which I get before.
— The heading that follows is in the old copies,
*''' Enter the Conspirators., Cassius^ Casca^ Decius^
Cinna, Metellus., and Trebonius."

162. We are too bold upon your rest. — We in-
trude too boldly or unceremoniously upon your rest.

168. This^ Casca; this., Cinna; etc. — I print
this speech continuously, as it stands in the original
edition, and as Mr. Knight has also given it. It

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 215

might perhaps be possible, by certain violent pro-
cesses, to reduce it to the rude semblance of a line
of verse, or to break it up, as has also been at-
tempted, into something like a pair of hemistichs ;
but it is far better to regard it as never having been,
intended for verse at all, like many other brief utter-
ances of the same level kind interspersed in this and
all the other Plays.

174. WhicJi is a great zuay, etc. — The commen-
tators, who flood us with their explanations of many
easier passages, have not a word to say upon this.
Casca means that the point of sunrise is as yet far
to the south (of east), weighing (that is, taking into
account, or on account of) the unadvanced period
of the year.

175. Give 7ne your hands all over. — That is, all
included. The idiom is still common.

177. If not the face of fnen. — The commenta-
tors are all alive here, one proposing to read fate
of men, another faith of men, another faiths (as
nearer in sound ioface). There seems to be no great
difficulty in the old reading, understood as meaning
the looks of men. It is preferable, at any rate, to
anything which it has been proposed to substitute.
[Dyce, Hudson, and White have face,']

1 77. The tijne's abuse. — The prevalence of abuse
generally, all the abuses of the time.

177. Hence to his idle bed. — That is, bed of idle-
ness, or in which he may lie doing nothing (not va-
cant or unoccupied bed, as some would understand
it). [Compare the expression, " a sick bed."]

1 77* ^o l<^l high-sighted tyranny. — High-look-
ing, proud. — Some modern editions have rage^ in-
stead of range,, probably by an accidental misprint.

177* Till each man drop by lottery. — That is,

2i6 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

probably, as if by chance, without any visible cause
why he in particular should be struck down or taken
off; or there may be an allusion to the process of
decimation.

177* Than secret Romans . — Romans bound to
secrecy.

1 77* -And will not palter ? — To palter means to
shuffle, to equivocate, to act or speak unsteadily or
dubiously with the intention to deceive. It is best
explained by the well-known passage in Macbeth
(V.7):-

And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
That palter with us in a double sense ;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.

177. Or we will fall for it ? — Will die for it.

177. Men cautelous. — Cautelous is given to cau-
tels^ full of cautels. A cautel^ from the Roman
law-term cautela (a caution, or security), is mostly
used in a discreditable sense by our old English
writers. The caution has passed into cunning in
their acceptation of the word ; — it was natural that
caution should be popularly so estimated ; — and by
cautels they commonly mean craftinesses, deceits.
Thus we have in Hamlet (i. 3), —

And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
The virtue of his will.

And in the passage before us cautelous is cautious
and wary at least to the point of cowardice, if not to
that of insidiousness and trickery.

177. Old feeble carrions. — Carrions^ properly
masses of dead and putrefying flesh, is a favorite
term of contempt with Shakespeare.

1 77. Such suffering souls^ etc. — See the note on
that gentleness as in 44. In the present speech we

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 217

have both the old and the new phraseology ; — suck
. . . that in one line, and such . . . as \xi the next. —
Suffering souls are patient, all-enduring souls.

177. The even virtue of our enterprise. — The
even virtue is the firm and steady virtue. The our
is emphatic.

177. Nor the insuppressive ?nettle. — The keen-
ness and ardor incapable of being suppressed (how-
ever illegitimate such a form with that sense may be
thought to be). So we have in As Tou Like It (iii.
2), " The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she."
And even Milton has {Lycidas, 176)? "And hears
the unexpressive nuptial song." [So " With unex-
pressive notes," Hymn on the Nativ. 116.] — For
mettle see 102.

177. To think that. — That is, so as to think.

177. Is guilty of a several bastardy. — The ety-
mology of the word bastard is uncertain. Shake-
speare probably took his notion of what it radically
expressed from the convertible phrase base-born.
Thus, .in Lear., i. 2, Edmund soliloquizes — " Why
bastard ? Wherefore base ? " By a several bastardy
here is meant a special or distinct act of baseness, or
of treason against ancestry and honorable birth. For
several see 443.

1 78. But what of Cicero ? etc. — Both the prosody
and the sense direct us to lay the emphasis on him.

1 78. He will stand very strong. — He will take
part with us decidedly and warmly.

181. It shall be said., his judgment^ etc. — Dr.
Guest, in the paper " On English Verbs," in the
Second Volume of the Proceedings of the Philo-
logical Society., which has been already referred to,
adduces some examples to show that the primary
sense of shall is to owe. Hence the use of should^

2i8 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

which is still common in the sense of ought. " The
use of shall to denote future time," Dr. Guest con-
tinues, " may be traced to a remote antiquity in our
language ; that of will is of much later origin, and
prevailed chiefly in our northern dialects. — Writers,
however, who paid much attention to their style,
generally used these terms with greater precision.
The assertion of will or of duty seems to have been
considered by them as implying to a certain extent
the power to will or to impose a duty. As a man
has power to will for himself only, it was only in
the first person that the verb will could be used with
this signification ; and in the other persons it was
left free to take that latitude of meaning which popu-
lar usage had given to it. Again, the power which
overrides the will to impose a duty must proceed
from some external agency ; and consequently shall
could not be employed to denote such power in the
first person. In the first person, therefore, it was
left free to follow the popular meaning, but in the
other two was tied to its original and more precise
signification. These distinctions still continue a
shibboleth for the natives of the two sister king-
doms. Walter Scott, as is well known to his read-
ers, could never thoroughly rpaster the difficulty."

In the Third Edition of Dr. Latham's English Lan-
guage^ pp. 470-474, may be found two other explana-
tions ; the first by the late Archdeacon Julius Charles
Hare (from the Cambridge Philological Museum^ 11.
203), the second by Professor De Morgan (from the
Proceedings of the Philological Society^ iv. 185 ; No.
90, read 25th Jan. 1850). [See also additional remarks
in the Fifth Edition of Latham's work, pp. 624-626.
Compare Marsh, Lectures^ First Series^ p. 659.]

The manner of using shall and will which is now

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 219

so completely established in England, and which
throughout the greater part of the country is so per-
fectly uniform among all classes, was as yet only
growing up in the 6arly part of the seventeenth cen-
tury. This was very well shown some years ago by a
writer in Blackwood' s Magazine^ by comparing many
passages of the authorized version of the Scriptures,
published in 161 1, with the same passages in the
preceding translation, called the Bishops' Bible^
which had appeared in 1568. The old use of shall^
instead of will^ to indicate simple futurity, with the
second and third persons, as well as with the first, is
still common with Shakespeare. Here, in this and
the next line, are two instances : " It shall be said ; "
" Shall no whit appear." So afterwards we have, in
187, " This shall mark our purpose necessary;" in
238, " Caesar should be a beast without a heart ; " in
350, " The enemies of Caesar shall say this ; " in
619, " The enemy, marching along by them. By
them shall make a fuller number up." We have
occasionally the same use of shall even in Claren-
don : " Whilst there are Courts in the world,
emulation and ambition will be inseparable from
them ; and kings who have nothing to give shall be
pressed to promise" ^Z^/j-/., Book xiii). In some
rare instances the received text of Shakespeare gives
us will where we should now use shall; as when
Portia says, in The Merchant of Venice^ iii. 4, —

I'll hold thee any wager,
When we are both accoutred like young men,
ril prove the prettier fellow of the two.

But here we should probably read "/prove." [?]

i8i. Shall no whit appear. — Whit is the Saxon
wiht^ anything that exists, a creature. It is the same
word with wight^ which we now use only for a man,

220 Philological Commentary, [act it.

in the same manner as we have come in the language
of the present day to understand creature almost ex-
clusively in the sense of a living creature, although
it was formerly used freely for everything created, —
as when Bacon says {JBssay of Truth), *' The first
creature of God, in the works of the days, was the
light of the sense ; the last was the light of reason ;
and his Sabbath work ever since is the illumination
of his spirit; " or {Adv. of Learning, B. i.), " The
wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which
is the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh
according to the stuft', and is limited thereby ; " or as
it is written in our authorized version of the Scrip-
tures (i Tim. iv. 4), "Every creature of God (<Tav
XTitf/xa ©sou) is good, and nothing to be refused, if
it be received with thanksgiving." We have crea-
ture used in this extensive sense even by so late a
writer as the Scotch metaphysician Dr. Reid (who
died in 1796), in his Inquiry into the Hitman Mind,
ch. I, first published in 1764: "Conjectures and
theories are the creatures of men, and will always
be found very unlike the creatures of God." No
ivhit is not anything, nowhat, not at all. And our
modern not (anciently nought) is undoubtedly no
whit : how otherwise is the t to be accounted for ?
So that our English "I do not speak," = I do no
whit speak, is an exactly literal translation of the
French ye ne farle fas (or point), which many
people believe to contain a double negative.

182. Let us not break with him. — That is. Let
us not break the matter to him. This is the sense
in which the idiom to break with is most frequently
found in Shakespeare. Thus, in Much Ado About
Nothing (i. i), the Prince, Don Pedro, says to his
favorite Don Claudio, " If thou dost love fair Hero,

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 221

cherish it ; and I will break with her ; " that is, I
will open the matter to her. And again, in the same
scene, " Then after to her father will I break." So
in The Two Gentlemen of Vero7ia (iii. i), "I am
to break with thee of some affairs" [and (i. 3),
"Now will we break with him"]. But when, in
The Merry Wives of Wz?zdsor (iii. 2), Slender says
to Ford, in answer to his invitation to dinner, "We
have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne, and I
would not break with her for more money than I'll
speak of," he means he would not break his engage-
ment with her. The phrase is nowhere, I believe,
used by Shakespeare in the only sense which it now
bears, namely, to quarrel with.

186. A shrewd contriver. — The adjective shrewd
is generally admitted to be connected with the sub-
stantive shrew ; and according to Home Tooke
{Div. of Purley^ 457-9)? t>oth are formations from
the Saxon verb sy7'wan^ syrewan^ or syrewian,
meaning to vex, to molest, to cause mischief to,
from which he also deduces sorrow, sorry ^ sore,, and
sour. Bosworth (who gives the additional forms
syrwian, syrwyan, searwian, sedrwan., searian,
serian) interprets the old verb as meaning to pre-
pare, endeavor, strive, arm, to lay snares, entrap,
take, bruise. A shrew, according to this notion,
might be inferred to be one who vexes or molests ;
and shrewd will mean endowed with the qualities
or disposition of a shrew. Shrew, as Tooke re-
marks, was formerly applied to a male as well as to
a female. So, on the other hand, para?nour and
lover, n6w only used of males, were formerly also
applied to females ; and in some of the provincial
dialects villai?i is still a common term of reproach
for both sexes alike. [See 259.]

222 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

Both to shrew and to beshrexv are used by our old
writel'S in the sense of to curse, which latter verb,
again (originally cur sail or cursian)^ also primarily
and properly signifies to vex or torment. Now, it
is a strong confirmation of the derivation of shrewd
from the verb to shrew that we find shrewd and
curst applied to the disposition and temper by our
old writers in almost, or rather in precisely, the same
sense. Shakespeare himself affords us several in-
stances. Thus, in Much Ado About Nothhig (ii. i ) ,
Leonato having remarked to Beatrice, " By my troth,
niece, thou wilt never get a husband if thou be so
shrewd of thy tongue," his brother Antonio adds,
assentingly, " In faith, she's too curst.'' So, in A
Midsummer Nighfs Dreain (iii. 2), Helena, de-
clining to reply to a torrent of abuse from Hermia,
says, " I was never curst; I have no gift at all in
shrewishness.'^ And in The Taming of the Shrew
(i. 2), first we have Hortensio describing Katharine
to his friend Petruchio as " intolerable curst., and
shrewd.^ and froward," and then we have Katharine,
the shrew, repeatedly designated " Katharine the
curst'' At the* end of the Play she is called " a
curst shrew," that is, as we might otherwise express
it, an ill-tempered shrew.

Shrew., by the way, whether the substantive or
the verb, always, I believe, and also shrewd very
frequently, appear throughout the First Folio with
ow as the diphthong, instead of ew ; and in The
Taming of the Shrew the word shrew is in various
places made to rhyme with the sound of o; so that
uhere can be little doubt that its common pronun-
ciation in Shakespeare's day was shrow., and also
chat the same vowel sound was given to shrewd or
shrowd in at least some of its applications. It is the

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 223

reverse of what appears to have happened in the
case of the w^ord v^diich probably w^as formerly pro-
nounced shew (as it is still often spelled), but now
always show. Thus Milton, in his 7th Sonnet, —
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief oi youth,
Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth yearl
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom skew'th.

So likewise in // Penseroso (171, 172), —

Of every star that heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew.

In the case, again, oi strew ^ or strow^ neither mode
either of spelling or of pronunciation can perhaps be
said to have quite gone out, although the dictionaries,
I believe, enjoin us to write the word with an ^, but
to give it the sound of an o. In the passage before
us the First Folio has " a shrew'd contriver.'*

As it is in words that ill-temper finds the readiest
and most frequent vent, the terms curst and skreWy
and shrewdy and shrewish are often used with a
special reference to the tongue. But sharpness of
tongue, again, always implies some sharpness of un-
derstanding as well as of temper. The terms shrewd
and shrewdly^ accordingly, have come to convey
usually something of both of these qualities, — at one
time, perhaps, most of the one, at another of the
other. The sort of ability that we call shrewdness
never suggests the notion of anything very high :
the word has always a touch in it of the sarcastic or
disparaging. But, on the other hand, the disparage-
ment which it expresses is never without an admis-
sion of something also that is creditable or flattering.
Hence it has come to pass that a person does not
hesitate to use the terms in question even of himself
and his own judgments or conjectures. We say, " I

224 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

shrewdly suspect or guess," or " I have a shrewd
guess, or suspicion," taking the Hberty of thus assert-
ing or assuming our own intellectual acumen under
cover of the modest confession at the same time of
some little ill-nature in the exercise of it.

Even when shrewd is used without any personal
reference, the sharpness which it implies is generally,
if not always, a more or less unpleasant sharpness.
" This last day was a shrewd one to us," says one of
the Soldiers of Octavius to his comrade, in Antony
and Cleopatra^ iv. 9, after the encounter in which
they had been driven back by Antony near Alexan-
dria. Shrewdness is even used by Chaucer in the
sense of evil generally ; as in The House of Fame ^

Speke of hem harm and shreuednesse,
Instead of gode and worthinesse.

And so too Bacon : " An ant is a wise creature for
itself; but it is a shrewd thing in an orchard or gar-
den." Essay 23d, " Of Wisdom for a Man's Self."
186. If he improve them. — That is, if he apply
them, if he turn them to account. It is remarkable
that no notice is taken of this sense of the word either
by Johnson or Todd. Many examples of it are given
by Webster under both Improve and Improvement,
They are taken from the writings, among others, of
Tillotson, Addison, Chatham, Blackstone, Gibbon.
We all remember

How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour.

Even Johnson himself, in The Rambler^ talks of a
man " capable of enjoying and improving' life," —
by which he can only mean turning it to account.
The iin of improve must be, or must have been
taken to be, the preposition or the intensive particle,

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 225

not the in negative, although it is the latter which we
have both in the Latin improhus and tmprobo^ and
also in the French improuver^ the only signification
of which is to disapprove, and although in the latinized
English of some of our writers of the sixteenth cen-
tury to improve occurs in the senses both of to reprove
and to disprove. In Much Ado About Nothing,,
li. 3, when Benedick, speaking to himself of Beatrice,
says, " They say the lady is fair ; . . . and virtuous ;
'tis so, I cannot reprove it," he seems to mean that
he cannot disprove it. The manner in which the
word improve was used in the middle of the seven-
teenth century may be seen from the following sen-
tences of Clarendon's : " This gave opportunity and
excuse to many persons of quality ... to lessen
their zeal to the King's cause; . .-. and those con-
testations had been lately improved with some sharp-
ness by the Lord Herbert's carriage towards the Lord
Marquis of Hertford" {Hist. Book vi.). "Though
there seemed reasons enough to dissuade her from
that inclination, and his majesty heartily wished that
she could be diverted, yet the perplexity of her mind
was so great, and her fears so vehement, both im-
proved by her indisposition of health, that all civility
and reason obliged everybody to submit" {Id. Book
viii.).

187. And envy afterwards. — Envy has here the
sense often borne by the Latin invidia, or nearly the
same with hatred or malice^ — the sense in which it
is almost always used by Shakespeare.

187. Let us be sacrijicers. — I cannot think that
the Lefs be of the First Folio indicates more,* at
most, than that it was the notion of the original
printer or editor that sacrijicers should be pro-
nounced with the emphasis on the second syllable.
15

226 Philological Commentary. [act ii.

If we keep to the ordinary pronunciation, the line
will merely have two supernumerary short, or unac-
cented, syllables ; that is to say, " sacrificers, but not"
will count for only two feet. Or four syllables. This
is nothing more than what we have in many other
lines. [See i6i.]

187. We all stand up^ etc. — Spirit is the em-
phatic word in this line.

187. And let our hearts^ etc. — See 155.

187. This shall mark. — For the shall see i8i. —
The old reading is, " This shall make" which is sense,
if at all, only on the assumption that make is here
equivalent to make to seem. I have no hesitation in
accepting the correction, which we owe to Mr. Col-
lier's MS. annotator. We have nov/ a clear meaning
perfectly expressed ; — this will show to all that our
act has been a measure of stern and sad necessity,
not the product of envy (or private hatred). [Dyce,
Hudson, and White have make. No change seems
called for.]

187. Our purpose necessary., etc. — There is noth-
ing irregular in the prosody of this line, nor any elis-
ion to be made. The measure is completed by the
en oi envious; the two additional unaccented sylla-
bles have no prosodical effect. [See above on Let
us he sacrijicers.']

188. Tet I do fear him. — The old reading is,
" Yet I fear him ; " the do was inserted by Steevens.
It improves, if it is not absolutely required by, the
sense or expression as well as the prosody. Mr.
Knight, by whom it is rejected [as it is by Dyce,
Hudson, and White], says, " The pause which nat-
urally occurs before Cassius offers an answer to the
impassioned argument of Brutus, would be most de-
cidedly marked by a proper reader or actor." This

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 227

pause Mr. Knight would have to be equivalent to a
single short syllable, or half a time. Surely one
somewhat longer would have been necessary for such
an effect as is supposed. The manner in which the
next line is given in the original text shows that tlie
printer or so-called editor had no notion of what the
words meant, or whether they had any meaning : in
his exhibition of them, with a full point after Caesar,
they have none.

189. Is to himself^ etc. — JTo think, or to take
thought, seems to have been formerly used in the
sense of to give way to sorrow and despondency.
Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra, iii. 11, to Cleopa-
tra's question, after the battle of Actium, "What shall
we do, Enobarbus?" the answer of that worthy is,
" Think and die." [Compare i Sam, ix. 5, and
Matt. vi. 25. See also Hamlet, iii. i : —

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.

So Bacon, Henry VII. p. 230 : " Hawis, an alder-
man of London, was put in trouble, and dyed with
thought, and anguish, before his business came to an
end."]

189. And that were much he should. — That
would be much for him to do.

190. There is no fear in him. — That is, cause of
fear. It is still common to use terror in this active
sense, — as in 194 and 551.

192. The clock hath stricken. — See 46 and 252.

194. Whether Ccesar will come forth to-day or
no. — Whether is thus given uncontracted here in
all the old copies. [vSee 16.]

194. ^uite fro7n the main opinion. — " Qiiite
from " is quite away from. So in Twelfth Night, v.

228 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

I , Malvolio, charging the Countess with having writ-
ten the letter, says, —

You must not now deny it is your hand ;

Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase.

Malone remarks that the words " main opinion "
occur also in T^'oilus and Cressida^ where, as he
thinks, they signify, as here, general estimation.
The passage is in i. 3 : —

Why then we should our main opinion crush
In taint of our best man.

Johnson's interpretation is perhaps better : " lead-
ing, fixed, predominant opinion." Mason has in-
geniously proposed to read " ?nean opinion " in the
present passage.

194. Of fantasy^ etc. — Fantasy is fancy, or im-
agination, with its unaccountable anticipations and
apprehensions, as opposed to the calculations of
reason. By ceremonies^ as Malone notes, we are to
understand here omens or signs deduced from sacri-
fices or other ceremonial rites. The word is used
again in the same sense in 233. For another sense
of it see 16.

194. These apparent prodigies. — Apparent is
here plain, evident, about which there can be no
doubt ; as in FalstafF's (to Prince Henry) " Were it
not here apparent that thou art heir apparent (l
Henry IV. i. 2), — where the here is also certainly
intended to coincide with the heir., giving rise to a
suspicion that the latter word may have, sometimes
at least, admitted of a diflerent pronunciation in
Shakespeare's day from that which it always has
now. So when Milton says of our first parents
after their fall i^Par. Lost, x. 112) that

Love was not in their looks, either to God
Or to each other, but apparent guilt,

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 229

he means manifest and undoubted guilt. In other
cases by apparent we mean, not emphatically ap-
parent, or indisputable, but simply apparent, appar-
ent and nothing more, or what we otherwise call
probable or seeming. "The sense is apparent'*
would mean that the sense is plain ; " the apparent
sense is," that the sense seems to be.

194. The unaccustomed te7'7'or. — Unaccustomed
is unusual : we now commonly employ it for unused
to. For terror see 190.

194. And the persuasio7i of his augur ers. —
Augurer^ formed from the verb, is Shakespeare's
usual word, instead of the Latin augtir^ which is
commonly employed, and which he too, however,
sometimes has. So again in 236.

195. That unicorns^ etc. — " Unicorns," says
Steevens, " are said to have been taken by one who,
running behind a tree, eluded the violent push the
animal was making at him, so that his horn spent
its force on the trunk, and stuck fast, detaining the
beast till he was despatched by the hunter." He
quotes in illustration Spensei-'s description (-F. .§.
ii. 5) : -

Like as a lion whose imperial power

A proud rebellious unicorn defies,

To avoid the rash assault and wrathful stour

Of his fierce foe him to a tree applies ;

And, when him running in full course he spies,

He slips aside ; the whiles the furious beast

His precious horn, sought of his enemies,

Strikes in the stock, ne thence can be releast.

But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast.

" Bears," adds Steevens, " are reported to have been
surprised by means of a mirror, which they would
gaze on, affording their pursuers an opportunity of
taking a surer aim. This circumstance, I think, is

230 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

mentioned by Claudian. Elephants were seduced
into pitfalls, lightly covered with hurdles and turf,
on which a proper bait to tempt them was exposed.
S^eVXiny-s Natural History^ Bookviii." Reference
might also be made to a speech of Timon to Ape-
mantus in Timon of Athens^ iv. 3, " If thou wert
the lion," etc., which is too long to be quoted. The
import of the For^ with which Decius introduces his
statement, is not seen till we come to his " But when
I tell him," etc., which, therefore, ought not, as is
commonly done, to be separated from what precedes
by so strong a point as the colon — the substitute of
the modern editors for the full stop of the original
edition.

195. He says^ he does; being then most flat-
tered. — The ing of being counts for nothing in the
prosody. For the ed oi flattered., see the note on
246.

197. By the eighth hour. — It is the eight hour
in the first three Folios. The author, however,
probably wrote eighth.

199. Doth bear Ccesar hard. — See 105.

200. Go along by him. — Pope, who is followed
by the other editors before Malone, changed by into
to. But to go along by a person was in Shake-
speare's age to take one's way where he was. So
afterwards in 619, " The enemy, marching along by
them " (that is, through the country of the people
between this and Philippi).

200. r II fashion him. — I will shape his mind to
our purposes.

201. The morning comes upon us. — It may just
be noted that all the old copies have " upon's." And
probably such an elision would not have been thought
inelegant at any time in the seventeenth century.

sc. I.] Julius Cjesar. 231

202. Let not our looks put on our purposes, — Put
on such expression as would betray our purposes.
Compare the exhortation of the strong-minded wife
of Macbeth to her husband {Macbeth^ i? 5) : —

To beguile the time,
Look like the time : bear welcome in jour eye,
Your hand, jour tongue ; look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it.

But the sentiment takes its boldest form from the lips
of Macbeth himself in the first fervor of his weak-
ness exalted into determined wickedness (i. 7) : —

Awaj, and mock the time with fairest show :

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

202. Formal co7istancy. — Constancy in outward
form, or aspect ; the appearance, at any rate, of
perfect freedom from anxiety and the weight of
our great design. The original stage direction is,
'•''Exeuizt. Manet Brutus.^'

202. The heavy honey-dew of slumber. — This is
the correction by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator of the
old reading, " the honey-heavy dew." I cannot doubt
that it gives us what Shakespeare wrote. " The
compound," as Mr. Collier remarks, " unquestiona-
bly is not honey-heavy^ but honey-dew^ a well-known
glutinous deposit upon the leaves of trees, etc. ; the
compositor was guilty of a transposition." We have
a trace, it might, be added, of some confusion or in-
distinctness in the manuscript, perhaps occasioned
by an interlineation, and of the perplexity of the
compositor, in the strange manner in which in the
First Folio the dew also, as well as the heavy, is
attached by a hyphen ; thus, " the hony-heauy-Dew."
[Hudson follows Collier. Dyce reads " honey heavy
dew," that is, as he explains it, " honeyed and heavy."
White has " honey-heavy dew," etc., " that is, slum-

232 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

ber as refreshing as dew, and whose heaviness is
sweet." It may be noted in support of Collier's
emendation, that in Titus Androjzicics^ iii. i, Shake-
speare has the expression " honey-dew : " —

fresh tears

Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gathered lily almost withered.]

202. Thou hast no figures^ etc. — Pictures created
by imagination or apprehension. So in The Meriy
Wives of Windsor^ iv. 2, Mrs. Page, to Mrs. Ford's
" Shall we tell our husbands how we have served
him (Falstaff) ? " replies, " Yes, by all means ; if it
be but to scrape the figures out of your husband's
brains."

205. You've ungently. — All the Folios have
IT have; which, however, was perhaps not pro-
nounced differently froin the modern elision adopted
in the present text. As that elision is still common,
it seems unnecessary to substitute the full Tou have^
as most of the recent editors have done.

205. Stole from my bed, — See 46.

205. Which sometime hath his hour. — That is,
its hour. See 54.

205. Wafture of your hand. — Wafter is the
form of the word in all the Folios.

205. Fearing to strengthen that ifnpatience. —
For the prosody of such lines see the note on 246.

205. An effect of humour. — Hu7nor is the pe-
culiar mood, or caprice, of the moment ; a state of
mind opposed or exceptional to the general disposi-
tion acid character.

205. As it hath much prevailed on your con-
ditio7z. — Condition is the general temper or state
of mind. We still say ill-conditio7ied^ for ill-tem-
pered. Thus, in The Merchant of Venice., i. 2.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 233

Portia makes the supposition that her suitor the
black Prince of Morocco, although his complexion
be that of a devil, may have " the condition of a
saint." Note how vividly the strong feeling from
which Portia speaks is expressed by her repetition
of the much — "could it work so much As it hath
much prevailed."

205. Dear my lord. — So, in Romeo and yuliet^
iii. 5, Juliet implores her mother, " O, sweet my
mother, cast me not away ! " For the principle upon
which this form of expression is to be explained, see
the note on 89. Though now disused in English, it
corresponds exactly to the French Cher Monsieur,
The personal pronoun in such phrases has become
absorbed in the noun to which it is prefixed, and its
proper or separate import is not thought of. A re-
markable instance, in another form of construction,
of how completely the pronoun in such established
modes of speech was formerly apt to be overlooked,
or treated as non-significant, occurs in our common
version of the Bible, where, in i Kiitgs xviii. 7, we
have, "And as Obadiah was in the way, behold,
Elijah met him : and he knew him, and fell on his
face, and said. Art thou that my lord Elijah?"
Still more extraordinary is what we have in Troilus
and Cressida^ v. 2, where (Ulysses having also
addressed Troilus, "Nay, good my lord, go oflf")
Cressida exclaims to herself, —

Ah I poor our sex ! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind.

209. [Tjt Brutus sick? — White remarks, "For
sick^ the correct English adjective to express all
degrees of suffering from disease, and which is uni-
versally used in the Bible and by Shakespeare, the
Englishman 01 Great Britain has poorly substituted

234 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

the adverb ill^ Compare Gen. xlviii. i ; i Sam.
xix. 14; XXX. 13, etc.]

209. Is it physical? — Medicinal.

209. Of the daizk moi^ning: — The Second Folio
changes dank into dark.

209. To add unto his sickness. — His is mis-
printed hit in the First Folio. So in Macbeth., i. 5,
we have, in the same original text, " the effect and
hit^^ apparently for "the effect and it" (the pur-
pose),— although the misprint, if it be one, is re-
peated in the Second Folio, and is, as far as we can
gather from Mr. Collier, left uncorrected by his MS.
annotator. It is even defended by Tieck as probably
the true reading. It cannot, at any rate, be received
as merely a different way of spelling //, deliberately
adopted in this instance and nowhere else through-
out the volume : such a view of the matter is the
very Quixotism of the belief in the immaculate pu-
rity of the old text.

209. Ton have some sick offence. — Some pain,
or grief, that makes you sick.

209. By the right and virtue of my place. — By
the right that belongs to, and (as we now say) in
virtue of (that is, by the power or natural prerogative
of) my place (as your wife). The old spelling of
the English word, and that which it has here in the
First Folio, is vertue^ as we still have it in the
French vertu.

209. / charTn you. — Charm (or charme) is the
reading of all the old printed copies. Pope substi-
tuted charge., which was adopted also by Hanmer.
It must be confessed that the only instance which has
been referred to in support of charm is not satisfac-
tory. It is adduced by Steevens from Cymbeline^ i.
7, where lachimo says to Imogen, —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 235

'Tis jour graces
That from my mutest conscience to mjr tongue
Charms this report out.

This is merely the common application of the verb
to charm in the sense of to produce any kind of ef-
fect as it were by incantation. CJiarin is from car-
men^ as incantation or e7zchantment is from cano.
In the passage before us, I charm you (if such be the
reading) must mean I adjure or conjure you. Spen-
ser uses charm with a meaning which it does not
now retain ; as when he says in his Shepherd' s Kal-
endar {October^ 118)? "Here we our slender pipes
may safely charm,^' and, in the beginning of his
Colin Cloufs Come Home Again^ speaks of" char^n-
ing his oaten pipe unto his peers," that is, playing
or modulating (not uttering musical sounds, as ex-
plained by Nares, but making to utter them). Still
more peculiar is the application of the wprd by Mar-
vel in a short poem entitled "The Picture of T. C.
in a prospect of flowers : " —

Meanwhile, whilst every verdant thing
Itself does at thy beauty charm ; —

that is, apparently, delights itself in contemplating
thy beauty. We do not now use this verb thus re-
flectively at all. There seems, however, to have
been formerly a latitude in the application of it which
may possibly have extended to such a sense as that
which must be assigned to it if it was really the word
here employed by Portia. — Two stage directions
are added here by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator :
^'•Kneeling" where Portia says, " Upon my knees I
charm you ;" and ^'-Raising her^' at 210.

211. But^ as it were^ in sort^ or limitation. —
Only in a manner, in a degree, in some qualified or
limited sense. We still say in a sort.

236 Philological Commentary. [act ii.

211. To keep with you ^ etc. — To keep company
with you. To keep in the sense of to live or dwell
is of constant occurrence in our old writers ; and
Nares observes that they still say in the University
of Cambridge, Where do you keep? I keep in such
a set of chambers. We sometimes hear it asserted
that the word comfort^ as well as the thing, is exclu-
sively English. But it is also an old French word,
though bearing rather the sense of our law term to
comfort^ which is to relieve, assist, or encourage.
And it exists, also, both in the Italian and in the
Spanish. Its origin is an Ecclesiastical Latin verb con-
forto (from con and jfortis), meaning to strengthen.

[The Hebrew word rendered comfort in yob ix.
27 and X. 30, is translated " to recover strength," Ps.
xxxix. 13, and " strengthen," Amos v. 9. In the
truce between England and Scotland in the reign of
Richard III. it was provided that neither of the kings
*' shall maintayne, fauour, ayde, or comfort any reb-
ell or trey tour " (Hall, Rich, III.)^ and shortly after*
we read, '•' King Charles promised him aide and com-
fort^ and bad him to be of good courage and to make
good chere." In Wiclif 's Bible, Isa. xli. 7, we have,
"And he coumfortide hym with nailes, that it shoulde
not be moued." And in Phil. iv. 13, " I may alia
thingis in him that comfortith me." See Bible Word-
Book.']

211. And talk to you sometimes^ etc. — The true
prosodical view of this line is to regard the two com-
binations " to you " and " in the " as counting each
for only a single syllable. It is no more an Alexan-
drine than it is an hexameter.

212. \^As dear to me., etc. — Gray has adopted
these words in The Bard: —

Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 237

Some critics see here an anticipation of Harvey's dis-
covery of the circulation of the blood.]

213. [_A woman well reputed^ etc. — Staunton
punctuates thus: "A woman, w^ell-reputed Cato's
daughter ; " that is, a woman, daughter of the much-
esteemed Cato. Few readers, I think, will approve
the emendation.]

213. Being so fathered and so husbanded. — We
have here two exemplifications of the remarkable
power which our language possesses (though a con-
sequence of its poverty of inflection, or of the loss of
their distinctive terminations by the infinitive and
present indicative of the verb) of turning almost any
noun, upon occasion, into a verb. It may be called
its most kingly prerogative, and may be compared to
the right of ennobling exercised b}' the crown in the
English political constitution, — the more, inasmuch
as words too, as well as men, were originally, it is
probable, all of equal rank, and the same word served
universally as noun at one time and as verb at an-
other. Most of our verbs that are of purely English
or Gothic descent are still in their simplest form un-
distinguishable from nouns. The noun and the verb
might be exhibited together in one system of inflec-
tion ; father^ for instance, might be at once declined
and conjugated, through fathered^ and fathering^
and have fathered., and will father., and all the oth-
er moods and tenses, as well as through fathers and
father's, and of a father, and to a father, and the
other so called nominal changes. It is to this their
identity of form with the noun that our English verbs
owe in a great measure their peculiar force and live-
liness of expression, consisting as that does in their
power of setting before us, not merely the fact that
something has been done or is doing, but the act or

238 Philological CommeIntary. [act ii.

process itself as a concrete thing or picture. Shake-
speare in particular freely employs any noun what-
ever as a verb.

It is interesting to note the germ of what we have
here in The Merchant of Venice (i. 2) : —

Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.

The merchant of Venice had certainly been writ-
ten by 1598.

213. I have 7nade strong f roof . — The prosody
concurs here with the sense in demanding a strong
emphasis upon the word strong.

214. All the charactery. — All that is charac-
tered or expressed by my saddened aspect. The
word, which occurs also in the Merry Wives of

Windsor^ v. 5, is accented on the second syllable
there as well as here. And no doubt this was also
the original, as it is still the vulgar, accentuation of
character. Shakespeare, however, always accents
that word on the char-., as we do, whether he uses it
as a noun or as a verb ; though a doubt may be enter-
tained as to the pronunciation of the participial form
botli in the line, " Are visibly charactered and en-
graved," in The Two Gentlemen of Verona^ ii. 7,
and in the " Show me one scar charactered on the
skin" of 2 Henry VI. iii. i, as well as with regard
to that of the compound which occurs in Troilus and

Cressida^ iii. 2 : —

And mighty states characterless are grated
To dusty nothing.

— The stage direction near the beginning of this
speech is merely Knock in the original edition.

214. Lucius^ whds that knocks? — Who is that
who knocks? The omission of the relative is a fa-
miliar ellipsis. See 34. Whds and not who is, is

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 239

the reading of all the Folios. It is unnecessary to
suppose that the two broken lines were intended to
make a whole between them. They are best regard-
ed as distinct hemistichs. [See 54, 55.]

217. The Lig. (for Ligarius) is Cai. throughout
in the original text. The authority for the praeno-
men Caius^ by which Ligarius is distinguished
throughout the Play, is Plutarch, in his Life of Bru-'
tus^ towards the beginning.

218. To wear a kercJiief, — Kerchief \^ cover-
chiefs the chief being the French chef^ head (from
the Latin Cap-vX^ which is also the same word with
the English Head and the German Haupt). But,
the proper import of chief being forgotten or neg-
lected, the name kerchief came to be given to any
cloth used as a piece of dress. In this sense the
word is still familiar in ha?idkorchief though both
kerchief itself and its other compound neckerchief
are nearly gone out. In King yohn^ iv. i, and also
in As Tou Like It^ iv. 3 and v. 2, the word in the
early editions is handkercher ; and this is likewise
the form in the Qiiarto edition of Othello, [In
Chaucer we have sometimes the form keverchef or
coverchief (Tyrwhitt), as in C T. Prol. 455 : —

Here keverchefs weren ful fjne of ground.
In the Scottish we find the form curch : —

Ane fair quhjt curch shoo puttis upoun hir heid.

JDundar."}
221. Thou, like an exorcist. — " Here," says
Mason, " and in all other places where the word
occurs in Shakespeare, to exorcise means to raise
spirits, not to lay them ; and I believe he is singular
in his acceptation of it." The only other instances
of its occurrence, according to Mrs. Clarke, are, in
the Song in Cymbeline, iv. 2 : —

240 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

No exerciser harm thee !

Nor no witchcraft charm thee I

in All's Well that Ends Well, v. 3, where, on the
appearance of Helena, thought to be dead, the King

exclaims, —

Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes ?

and in 2 Henry VI. i. 4, where Bolingbroke asks,
" Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms ? "
meaning the incantations and other operations by
which they were to raise certain spirits. — In Mr.
Collier's regulated text, in this speech, at the words
" Soul of Rome," we have the stage direction,
" Throwing away his bandage.^'

221. My mortijied spirit. — Mor-ti-Ji-ed here
makes four syllables, spirit counting for only one.
And mortijied has its literal meaning of deadened.

224. As we are going To whom it must be done. —
While we are on our way to those whom it must be
done to. The ellipsis is the same as we have in 105,
*' From that it is disposed." I do not understand
how the words are to be interpreted if we are to
separate going from what follows by a comma, as
is done in most editions.

225. Set on your foot. — This was probably a
somewhat energetic or emphatic mode of expression.
In Scotland they say, " Put down your foot " in ex-
horting one to walk on briskly. — At the end of this
speech the old copies have Thunder as a stage di-
rection.

Scene II. The same. A Room in Caesar's Pal-
ace. — This is not in the old editions ; but the stage
direction that follows is, only with Julius Ccesar
(for CcBsar).

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 241

227. Nor heaven nor earthy etc. — This use of
nor . . . nor for the usual neither . . . nor of prose
(as well as of <?r . . . or for either . . . or) is still
common in our poetry. On the other hand, either
was sometimes used formerly in cases where we now
always have or; as in Luke vi. 42 : " Why be-
holdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye,
but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye ?
Either how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother,
let me pull out the mote that is in thine eye, when
thou thyself beholdest not the beam that is in thine
own eye ? " — The strict grammatical principle would
of course require " has been at peace ; " but where,
as here, the two singular substantives are looked at
together by the mind, it is more natural to regard
them as making a plurality, and to use the plural
verb, notwithstanding the disjunctive conjunction (as
it is sometimes oddly designated).

229. Do present sacrifice. — In this and a good
many other cases we are now obliged to employ a
verb of a more specific character instead of the gen-
eral do. This is a different kind of archaism from
what we have in the " do danger " of 147, where it
is not the do., but the danger^ that has a meaning
which it has now lost, and for which the modern
language uses another word.

229. Their opinions of success. — That is, merely,
of the issue, or of what is prognosticated by the sac-
rifice as likely to happen. Johnson remarks (note
on Othello., iii. 3) that successo is also so used in
Italian. So likewise is succes in French. In addi-
tion to earlier examples of such a sense of the Eng-
lish word, Boswell adduces from Sidney's Arcadia,
" He never answered me, but, pale and quaking,
went straight away ; and straight my heart misgave
16

2^2 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

me some evil success;" and from Dr. Barrow, in the
latter part of the seventeenth century, " Yea, to a
person so disposed, that success which seemeth most
adverse justly may be reputed the best and most
happy." Shakespeare's ordinary employment of
the word, however, is accordant with our present
usage. But see 734? 735* Sometimes it is used in
the sense of our modern succession ; as in A Winter's
Tale^ i. 2 : " Our parents' noble names. In whose
success we are gentle." In the same manner the
verb to succeed^ though meaning etymologically no
more than to follow, has come to be commonly un-
derstood, when used without qualification, only in a
good sense. We still say that George II. succeeded
George I., and could even, perhaps, say that a person
or thing had succeeded very ill ; but when we say
simply, that anything has succeeded^ we mean that
it has had a prosperous issue.

Shakespeare's use of the word success may be
further illustrated by the following examples : —

Is your blood
So madly hot that no discourse of reason,
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
Can qualify the same? — Troil. and Cress, ii. 2.
Commend me to my brother : soon at night
I'll send him certain word of my success.

Meas. for Meas, i. 5.
Let this be so, and doubt not but success
Will fashion the event in better shape
Than I can lay it down in likelihood.

Much Ado About Nothing, iv. X.
And so success of mischief shall be born.
And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up

2 Henry IV. iv. 3.
Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
Which my thoughts aimed not. — Othello^ iil. 3.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 243

233. I never stood on ceremonies. — See 194.

233. Recounts most horrid sights. — Who re-
counts. As in 34 and 214.

233. The noise of battle hurtled in the air. —

The three last Folios substitute hurried for hurtled.

Hurtle is probably the same word with hurl (of

which, again, whirl may be another variation).

Chaucer uses it as an active verb, in the sense of

to push forcibly and with violence ; as in C. T.

2618,—

And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun j —

and again in C. Z". 4717, —

O firste moving cruel firmament I
With thy diurnal swegh that croudest ay,
And hurtlest all from est til Occident,
That naturally wold hold another way.

Its very sound makes it an expressive word for any
kind of rude and crushing, or " insupportably ad-
vancing," movement.

233. Horses did neigh., and dying men did
groan. — This is the reading of the Second and sub-
sequent Folios. The first has " Horses do neigh,
and dying men did grone." We may confidently
affirm that no degree of mental agitation ever ex-
pressed itself in any human being in such a jumble
and confusion of tenses as this, — not even insanity
or- drunkenness. The " Fierce fiery warriors fight
upon the clouds" [White reads yi?^^^^/], which we
have a few lines before, is not a case in point. It is
perfectly natural in animated narrative or description
to rise occasionally from the past tense to the pres-
ent ; but who ever heard of two facts or circumstances
equally past, strung together, as here, with an and.^
and enunciated in the same breath, being presented
the one as now going on, the other as only having
taken place?

244 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

233. And ghosts did shriek cmd squeal about the
streets. — It is rare to find Shakespeare coming so
near upon the same words in two places as he does
here and in dealing with the same subject in Ham-
let^ i. I : —

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.

This passage, however, is found only in the Qiiarto
editions of Hamlet^ and is omitted in all the Folios.

233. Beyond all use. — We might still say "be-
yond all use and wont."

234. Whose end is purposed^ etc. — The end, or
completion, of which is designed by the gods.

236. What say the augurers? — See 194. The
preceding stage direction is in the original edition,
''''Enter a Servant.''

238. In shame of cowardice. — For the shame of
cowardice, to put cowardice to shame.

238. Ccesar should be a beast. — We should now
say Caesar would be a beast. It is the same use of
shall where we now use will that has been noticed at
181. So in Merchant of Venice^ i. 2, Nerissa, con-
versing with her mistress Portia about her German*
suitor, the nephew of the Duke of Saxony, says, " If
he should ofter to choose, and choose the right casket,
you should refuse to perform your father's will, if
you should refuse to accept him." Yet the fashion
of saying It should appear, or It should seem (in-
stead of It would) ^ which has come up with the
revived study of our old literature, is equally at vari-
ance with the principle by which our modern em-
ployment of shall and will is regulated.

238. We are two lions. — The old reading, in all

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 245

the Folios, is We heare (or Jiear in the Third and
Fourth). Nobody, as far as I am aware, has de-
fended it, or afteCted to be able to make any sense of
it. Theobald proposed We were, which has been
generally adopted. But We are, as recommended
by Upton, is at once nearer to the original and much
more spirited. It is a singularly happy restoration,
and one in regard to which, I conceive, there can
scarcely be the shadow of a doubt. [Collier, Dyce,
and White have are; Hudson, wereJ\

239. Is consumed in confidence. — As anything is
consumed in fire.

240. For thy Jiumour. — For the gratification of
thy whim or caprice. See 205. Mr. Collier's MS.
annotator directs that CaBsar should here raise Cal-
phurnia, as he had that she should deliver the last
line of her preceding speech kneeling.

241. Ccesar, all hail! — Hail in this sense is the
Saxon hael or hdl, meaning hale, whole, or healthy
(the modern German /^^//). It ought rather to be
spelled hale. Hail, frozen rain, is from haegl,
haegel, otherwise hagol, hagul, or haegol (in mod-
ern German hagel).

242. To bear my greeting. — To greet in this
sense is the Saxon gretan, to go to meet, to welcome,
to salute {ihQ grussen of the modern German). The
greet of the Scotch and other northern dialects, which
is found in Spenser, represents quite another Saxon
verb, greotan oy graetan, to lament.

244. To be afeard. — The common Scotch form
for afraid is ?,'t\S\. feared, ox fear d, from the verb to
fear, taken in the sense of to make afraid ; in which
sense it is sometimes found in »Shakespeare ; as in
Measure for Measure, ii. i : —

246 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
Setting it up to fear the beasts of prey ;

And in Antony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6, —

Thou canst not fear us, Pompej, with thy sails.

In The Taming of the Shrew ^ i. 2, we have in a
single line (or two heraistichs) both senses of the
verb to fear: " Tush ! tush ! fear boys with bugs,"
says Petruchio in scorn ; to which his servant Gru-
mio rejoins, aside ^ " For he fears none."

246. That is enough to satisfy the senate. — Not
(as the words might in other circumstances mean)
enough to insure their being satisfied, but enough
for me to do towards that end.

246. She dreamt to-night she saw my statue, —
It may be mentioned that both Rowe and Pope sub-
stitute last nighty which would, indeed, seem to be
the most natural expression ; but it is unsupported
by any of the old copies. — The word statue is of
frequent occurrence in Shakespeare ; and in general
it is undoubtedly only a dissyllable. In the present
Play, for instance, in the very next speech we have

Your statue spouting blood in many pipes.
And so likewise in 138, and again in 377. Only in
one line, which occurs in Richard III. iii. 7, —

But like dumb statuCs or breathing stones, -r
is it absolutely necessary that it should be regarded
as of three syllables, if the received reading be cor-
rect. In that passage also, however, as in every
other, the word in the First Folio is printed simply
statues., exactly as it always is in the English which
we now write and speak.

On the other hand, it is certain that statue was
frequently written statua in Shakespeare's age ; Ba-
con, for example, always, I believe, so writes it ; and

sc. II.] Julius C.iiSAR. 247

it is not impossible that its full pronunciation may-
have been always trisyllabic, and that it became a
dissyllable only by the two short vowels, as in other
cases, being run together so as to count prosodically
only for one.

" From authors of the times," says Reed, in a note
on The Two Gentlefne7t of Verona^ iv. 4, " it would
not be difficult to fill whole pages with instances to
prove that statue was at that period a trisyllable."
But unfortunately he does not favor us with one such
instance. Nor, with the exception of the single line
in Richard III.^ the received reading of which has
been suspected for another reason {breathiiig stones
being not improbably, it has been thought, a mis-
print for unbreathing stones)^ has any decisive in-
stance been produced either by Steevens, who refers
at that passage to what he designates as Reed's
*' very decisive note," or by any of the other com-
mentators anywhere, or by Nares, who also com-
mences his account of the word in his Glossary by
telling us that it " was long used in English as a
trisyllable."

The only other lines in Shakespeare in which it
has been conceived to be other than a word of two
syllables are the one now under examination, and
another which also occurs in the present Play, in

425- —

Even at the base of Pompey's statue.

These two lines, it will be observed, are similarly
constructed in so far as this word is concerned ; in
both the supposed trisyllable concludes the verse.

Now, we have many verses terminated in exactly
the same manner by other words, and yet it is very
far from being certain that such verses were intended

248 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

to be accounted verses of ten syllables, or were ever
so pronounced.

First, there is the whole class of those ending with
words in tion or sion. This termination, it is true,
usually makes two syllables in Chaucer, and it may
do so sometimes, though it does not generally, in
Spenser ; it is frequently dissyllabic, in indisputable
instances, even with some of the dramatists of the
early part of the seventeenth century, and particularly
with Beaumont and Fletcher [and so in Milton, H
Penseroso^ Hymn on the Nativity^ etc.] ; but it is
only on the rarest occasions that it is other than
monosyllabic in the middle of the line with Shake-
speare. Is it, then, to be supposed that he employed
it habitually as a dissyllable at the end of a line?
It is of continual occurrence in both positions.
For example, in the following line of the present

speech, —

But for your private satisfaction, —

can we think that the concluding word was intended
to have any different pronunciation from that which
it has in the line oi Romeo and Juliet (ii. 2), —

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
or in this other from Othello (iii. 3), —

But for a satisfaction of my thought?
Is it probable that it was customary then, any more
than it is now, to divide tion into two syllables in the
one case more than in the other?

Secondly, there are numerous verses terminating
with the verbal affix ed^ the sign of the preterite in-
dicative active or of the past participle passive. This
termination is not circumstanced exactly as tion is :
the utterance of it as a separate syllable is the rare
exception in our modern pronunciation ; but it evi-

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 249

dently was not so in Shakespeare's day ; the distinct
syllabication of the ed would rather seem to have
been almost as common then as its absorption in the
preceding syllable. For instance, when Juliet, in
Romeo a7id yuliet^ iii. 2, repeating the Nurse's
words, exclaims, —

Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished :
That banished — that one word banished —
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts, —

the ed in That banished clearly makes a distinct
syllable ; and, that being the case, it must be held to
be equally such in the two other repetitions of the
word. But in other cases its coalescence with the
preceding syllable will only produce the same effect
to which we are accustomed when we disregard the
antiquated pronunciation of the Hon at the end of a
line, and read it as one syllable. In the present
Play, for example, it might be so read in 304, —

Thy brother by decree is banished, —

as it was probably intended (in another prosodical
position) to be read afterwards in 309, —

That I was constant Cimber should be banished, —
and as it must be read in 305, —

For the repealing of my banished brother.

Yet, although most readers in the present day would
elide the e in all the three instances, it ought to be
observed that in the original edition the word is
printed in full in the first and with the apostrophe in
the two others. And this distinction in the printing
is employed to indicate the pronunciation through-
out the volume. How such a line as

Thy brother by decree is banished, —
being a very common prosodical form in Shake-

250 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

speare, — was intended by him to be read, or was
commonly read in his day, must therefore remain
somewhat doubtful. If, however, the e was elided
in the pronunciation, such verses would be prosodi-
cally exactly of the same form or structure with those,
also of very frequent occurrence, in which all that
we have for a fifth foot is the affix or termination
tion^ on the assumption that that was pronounced
only as one syllable.

One way of disposing of such lines would be to
regard them as a species of hemistich or truncated
line. Verses which, although not completed, are
correctly constructed as far as they go, occur in every
Play in great numbers and of all dimensions ; and
those in question would be such verses wanting the
last syllable, as others do the two or three or four or
five last. This explanation would take in the case
of the lines, " She dreamt to-night she saw my
statue," and " Even at the base of Pompey's statue,"
and of others similarly constructed, supposing statue
to be only a dissyllable, as well as all those having
m the last foot only tion or ed. But most probably
this particular kind of truncated line, consisting of
nine syllables, would not occur so frequently as it
does but for the influence exerted by the memory of
the old pronunciation of the two terminations just
mentioned even after it had come to be universally
or generally disused. For instance, although the
word satisfaction had already come in the age of
Shakespeare to be generally pronounced exactly as
it is at the present day, the line " But for your
private satisfaction " was the more readily accepted
as a sufficient verse by reason of the old syllabication
of the word, which, even by those who had aban-
doned it (as Shakespeare himself evidently had

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 251

done), was not forgotten. Other lines having
nothing more for their tenth syllable than the verbal
affix ed^ in which also an elision had become usual,
would be acted upon in the same manner ; the ed
would still retain something of the effect of a sepa-
rate syllable even when it had ceased to be generally
so pronounced. But after the public ear had thus
become reconciled and accustomed to such a form
of verse, it might be expected to be sometimes
indulged in by poetic writers when it had to be
produced in another way than through the instru-
mentality of the half separable ed and the half
dissyllabic Hon. The line " But for your private
satisfaction," pronounced as we have assumed it to
have been, would make such a line as " She dreamt
to-night she saw my statue " seem to have an equal
right to be accounted legitimate, seeing that its effect
upon the ear was precisely the same. Still the con-
servative principle in language would keep the later
and more decided deviation from the normal form
comparatively infrequent. Sometimes a singular
effect of suddenness and abruptness is produced by
such a form of verse ; as in the sharp appeal of
Menenius, in the opening scene of Coriolanus^ to
the loud and grandiloquent leader of the mutinous
citizens, —

What do you think,
You, the great toe of this assembly?

Unless, indeed, we are to assume the verse here to
be complete and regular, and that assembly is to be
read as a word of four syllables, as-sein-bl-y. In the
present Play, however, at 294, we have an instance
to which that objection does not apply. The line
there — " Look, how he makes to Caesar : mark
him " — is of precisely the same rhythm with " She

252 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

dreamt to-night she saw my statue," and also with
the one by which it is immediately preceded — '' I
fear our purpose is discovered " (in 293), as well as
with " He says he does ; being then most flattered "
(in 195), and many others, read (as it is probable
they were intended to be) without the distinct syl-
labication of the ed.

After all, Shakespeare's word may really have
been statua^ as Reed and Steevens suppose. This
is decidedly the opinion of Mr. Dyce, who, in his
Remarks on Air. Collier's and Mr. Knighfs edi-
tions (p. 186), calls attention to the following line
from a copy of verses by John Harris, prefixed to
the 1647 Folio of the Plays of Beaumont and
Fletcher : —

Defaced statua and martyr'd book.

" I therefore have not," he adds, " the slightest doubt
that wherever statue occurs, while the metre requires
three syllables, it is a typographical error for statua."
Perhaps the best way would be to print statua in all
cases, and to assume that that was the form which
Shakespeare always wrote. Statua would have the
prosodical value either of a dissyllable or of a tris-
yllable according to circumstances, just as Mantua,
for instance, has throughout Romeo and yuliet,
where we have in one place such a line as

For then thou canst not pass to Mantu-a (iii. 3),
or

But I will write again to Mantu-a (v. 2),

and in another such as

Sojourn in Mantua ; I'll find out your man (iii. 3),
or

So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed (v. 2).

We have a rare example of the termination tion

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 253

forming a dissyllable with Shakespeare in the middle
of a line in Jaques's description of the Fool Touch-
stone {As Tozc Like It^ ii. 2) : —

He hath strange places crammed
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms.

This may be compared with the similar prolonga-
tion of the 'trance in the sublime chant of Lady
Macbeth {Macbeth^ i. 5), —

The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements, —

or with what we have in the following line in The
Two Gentlemen of Verojza^ ii. 4, —

And that hath dazzled my reason's light, —

or with this in A Midsummer Nighfs Dreanty
iii. 2, —

O me I y on Juggler ! you canker-blossom.

The name Henry^ in like manner, occasionally oc-
curs as a trisyllable both in the three Parts of Henry
VI. ^ and also in Richard III.

The following are examples of what is much more
common — the extension or division of similar com-
binations at the end of a line : —

The parts and graces of the wrestler.

As Tou Like It, ii. 2.
And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

Twelfth Night, i. i.
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

Ibid., i. 3.
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Much Ado About Nothing, iii. i.
O, how this spring of love resembleth.

Tvjo Gent, of Ver., i. 3.

354 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

And these two Dromios, one in semblance.

Com. of Err. ^ i. i.
These are the parents to these children. — Ibid.

Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress.

Tarn, of Shrew ^ iv. 5.

In other cases, however, the line must apparently be
held to be a regular hemistich (or truncated verse)
of nine syllables ; as in

Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister.

Twelfth Night, v. i.

I'll follow you and tell what answer.

3 Henry VI., iv. 3.

Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Mer. of Ven., iv. i.

Unless, indeed, in this last instance we ought not to
read coTninandejnent (in four syllables), as Spenser
occasionally has it ; although I am not aware of the
occurrence of such a form of the word elsewhere in
Shakespeare.

246. And these does she apply for 'war7iings and
portents. • — This is the reading of all the Folios. It
is not quite satisfactory ; and the suspected corrup-
tion has been attempted to be cured in various ways.
Shakespeare's habitual accentuation oi portent seems
to have been on the last syllable. If the passage
were in any one of certain others of the Plays, I
should be inclined to arrange the lines as follows : —

And these does she apply for warnings and
Portents of evils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begged that I will stay at home to-day.

The crowding of short syllables which this would
occasion in the second line is much less harsh and
awkward than what the received arrangement pro-
duces in the first. But so slight a monosyllable as
and in the tenth place would give us a structure of

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 255

verse of which, although common in several of the
other Plays, we have no example in this. See Prol-
egoi7iena^ sect. vi.

246. Of evils imminent. — This conjectural emen-
dation, which appears to be Warburton's, had long
been generally accepted ; but it has now the author-
ity of Mr. Collier's manuscript aunotator. The read-
ing in all the old copies is ''''And evils." [Dyce,
Hudson, and White have a^idr^

247. For tinctures^ etc. — Tinctures and stains
are understood both by Malone and Steevens as
carrying an allusion to the practice of persons dip-
ping their handkerchiefs in the blood of those whom
they regarded as martyrs. And it must be confessed
that the general strain of the passage, and more
especially the expression " shall press for tinctures,"
etc., will not easily allow us to reject this interpreta-
tion. Yet does it not make the speaker assign to
Caesar by implication the verj' kind of death Cal-
phurnia's apprehension of which he professes to re-
gard as visionary ? The pressing for tinctures and
stains, it is true, would be a confutation of so much
of Calphurnia's dream as seemed to imply that the
Roman people would be delighted with his death, —

Many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it.

Do we refine too much in supposing that this incon-
sistency between the purpose and the language of
Decius is intended by the poet, and that in this brief
dialogue between him and Cajsar, in which the latter
sutlers himself to be so easily won over, — persuaded
and relieved by the very words that ought naturally
to have confirmed his fears, — we are to feel the
presence of an unseen power driving on both the

256 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

unconscious prophet and the blinded victim ? Com-
pare 407.

Johnson takes both tinctures and cognizance in
the heraldic sense as meaning distinctive marks of
honor and armorial bearings (in part denoted by-
colors). But the stains and relics are not so easily
to be accounted for on this supposition ; neither
would it be very natural to say that men should
press to secure such distinctions. The speech alto-
gether Johnson characterizes as " intentionally pom-
pous " and " somewhat confused."

248. Aft to be re7zdered. — Easy and likely to be
thrown out in return or retaliation for your refusing
to come. [Compare 344.]

248. Shall they not ijohisfer? — We should now
say " Will they not? " See 238.

248. To your froceediitg. — To your advance-
ment. So in Gloster's protestation, in Rich, III,
iv. 4, —

Be opposite all planets of good luck

To my proceeding! if with dear heart's love,

Immaculate devotion, holj thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter, —

that is, to my prospering, as we should now say.

248. And reason to my love is liable. — As if he
had said, And, if I have acted wrong in telling you,
my excuse is, that my reason where you are con-
cerned is subject to and is overborne by my affec-
tion. See 67.

2^9. In the original stage direction the name of
Publius stands last, instead of first.

251. Are you stirred. — We have lost this appli-
cation of stirred (for out of bed). The word now
commonly used, astir.^ does not occur in Shake-
speare ; and, what is remarkable, it has hitherto,

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 257

although we have long been in the habit of applying
it freely in various other ways as well as in this
sense, escaped all or most of our standard lexicog-
raphers. I do not find it either in Todd's Johnson,
or in Webster, or in Richardson, or in Walker, or
in Smart. [It is given by Worcester, but is not to-
be found in the last revision of Webster.] Of
course, the emphasis is on you.

252. 'Tis strucken eight, — Shakespeare uses allj
the three forms, str^uck^ strucken^ and stricken^ of'
which the existing language has preserved only the
first. See 192. Mr. Collier has here stricken.
Strictly speaking, of course, the mention by an old
Roman of the striking of an hour involves an
anachronism. Nor is the mode of expression that of
the time when here, and in 271, what we now call
eight a-nd nine o'clock in the morning are spoken of
as the eighth and ninth hours.

253. That revels long o' nights. — See 65. Here
again it is a-nights in the original text.

255. Bid them prepare'. — The use oi prepare
thus absolutely (for to make preparation) is hardly
now the current language, although it might not
seem unnatural in verse, to which some assumption
or imitation of the phraseology of the past is not
forbidden.

255. I have an hour's talk^ etc. — Hour is here a
dissyllable, as such words often are.

258. That every like is not the same. — That to
be like a thing is not always to be that thing, — said
in reference to Cassar's *' We, like friends." So the
old Scottish proverb, " Like's an ill mark ; " and the
common French saying, as it has been sometimes
converted, " Le vraisemblable n'est pas toujours le
vrai." The remark is surely to be supposed to be
17

258 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

made aside, as well as that of Trebonius in 256,
although neither is so noted in the old copies, and
the modern editors, while they retain the direction
to that effect inserted by Rowe at 256, have generally
struck out the similar one inserted by Pope here.
Mr. Collier, I see, gives both ; but whether on the
authority of his MS. annotator does not appear. —
In the same manner as here, in Measure for MeaS'
ure^ V. 2, to the Duke's remark, " This is most likely^'
Isabella replies, " O that it wpre as like as it is
true."

258. The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon,
— Teams is earnes in the original text. It has been
generally assumed that yearn and ear^z are radically
the same ; the progress of the meaning probably
being, it has been supposed, to feel strongly — to
desire or long for — to endeavor after — to attain or
acquire. But Mr. Wedgwood has lately, in a paper
published in the Proceedings of the Philological
Society^ v. 33 (No. 105, read 21 Feb., 1851), stated
strong reasons for doubting whether there be really
any connection between earn and either yearn or
ear?iest. The fundamental notion involved in earn^
according to the view taken by Mr. Wedgwood, is
that of harvest or reaping. The primary and essen-
tial meaning oi yearn and earnest^ again (which are
unquestionably of the same stock), may be gathered
from the modern German gern^ willingly, readily,
eagerly, which in Anglo-Saxon was georn^ and was
used as an adjective, signifying desirous, eager, in-
tent. We now commonly employ the verb to yearn
only in construction with for or after^ and in the
sense of to long for or desire strongly. Perhaps the
radical meaning may not be more special than to be
strongly affected. In the present passage it evidently

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 259

means to be stung or wrung with sorrow and regret.
Shakespeare's construction of the word yearn^ in so
far as it differs from that now in use, may be illus-
trated by the following examples : —

It yearns me not if men my garments wear.

Hen. V. iv. 3.
O, how it yearned my heart when I beheld.

RicJi. II. V. 5.
This is the exclamation of the groom. So Mrs.
Quickly, in The Merry Wives of Windsor.^ iii. 5
(speaking also, perhaps, in the style of an unedu-
cated person), " Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it
would yearn your heart to see it."

" To think upon that every like is" would not have
been said in Shakespeare's day, any more than it
would be in ours, except under cover of the inversion.

Scene III. 259. Security gives way to. — In this
sense (of leaving a passage open) we should now
rather say to make way for. To give way has come
to mean to yield and break under pressure. [Com-
pare Milton, P, L. i. 638 foil. In Trail, and Cress,
ii. 2, Hector says, —

The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure,]

The heading of this scene in the original text is
merely Enter Artemidorus.

Artemidorus, who was a lecturer on the Greek
rhetoric at Rome, had, according to Plutarch, ob-
tained his knowledge of the conspiracy from some
of his hearers, who were friends of Brutus, that
is, probably, through expressions unintentionally
dropped by them.

259. Thy lover. — As we might still say, " One
who loves thee." It is nearly equivalent to friend,

26o Philological Commentary, [act ii.

and was formerly in common use in that sense.
Thus, in Psahn xxxviii. ii, we have in the old ver-
sion, " My lovers and my neighbours did stand look-
ing upon my trouble," and also in the common ver-
sion, '' My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my
sore." — So afterwards in 374 Brutus begins his
address to the people, " Romans, countrymen, and
lovers." See other instances from private letters in
Chalmers's Apology^ 165. Another change, which
has been undergone by this and some other words is
that they are now usually applied only to men, where-
as formerly they were common to both sexes. This
has happened, for instance, to paraviour and villain^
as well as to lover. But villain^ as already noticed
(186), is still a term of reproach for a woman, as well
as for a man, in some of the provincial dialects.
And, although we no longer call a woman a lover,
we still say of a man and woman that they are lovers,
or a pair of lovers. I find the term lover distinctly
applied to a woman in so late a work as Smollett's
Count I^at horn ^ published in 1754: "These were
alarming symptoms to a lover of her delicacy and
pride." Vol. i. ch. 10.

259. Out of the teeth of emulation. — 'As envy
(see 187) is commonly used by Shakespeare in the
sense of hatred or malice, so emulation^ as here, is
with him often envy or malicious rivalry. There
are instances, however, of his employing the word,
and also the cognate terms emulator^ efnulate^ and
e?nulous^ not in an unfavorable sense.

259. With traitors do contrive. — The word con-
trive in the common acceptation is a very irregular
derivative from the French coiitrouver^ an obsolete
compound of trouver (to find). The English word
appears to have been anciently written both controve

sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 261

and contreve (see Chaucer's JRom. of the Rose^
4249 and 7547). Spenser, however, has a learned
contrive of his own (though somewhat irregularly
formed too), meaning to spend, consume, wear out,
from the Latin contero^ contrivi (from which we
have also contrite^. And Shakespeare also, at least
in one place, uses the word in this sense : —

Please you we may contrive this afternoon.

Tarn, of Skreiv, i. 2.

Scene IV. The heading of this scene in the
original text is only ''''Enter Portia and Lucius. ^^

260. Get thee gone. — An idiom ; that is to say,
a peculiar form of expression, the principle of which
cannot be carried out beyond the particular instance.
Thus we cannot say either Make thee gone., or He
got him (or himself) gone.* Phraseologies, on the
contrary, which are not idiomatic are paradigmatic,
or may sei've as models or moulds for others to any
extent. All expression is divided into these two
kinds. And a corresponding division may be made
of the inflected parts of speech in any language.
Thus, for instance, in Greek or Latin, while certain
parts of speech are indeclinable, those that are de-
clined are either paradigmatic (that is, exemplary),
such as the noun and the verb, or non-exemplary,
such as the articles and the pronouns.

262. O constancy. — Not exactly our present con-

* [White asks here, "Is this true? We do not; but can
we not? i. e. in accordance with the laws of thought and
the principles of our language. . . . Is there any objection
but lack of usage against ' Make thee gone,' or ' He got him
gone' ?" Of course " lack of usage" is the only objection.
In saying that " we cannot" Craik means merely that usage
forbids us to say " Make thee gone," etc. ; usage-,

^uem penes arbitrium est etjus et norma loquendi."]

262 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

stancy; rather what we should now call firmness or
resolution. In the same sense afterwards, in 296,
Brutus says, " Cassius, be constant." The French
have another use of constant^ — // est constant (It
is certain), — borrowed from the Latin impersonal
constat^ and not unknown to co?isto. See 309.

262. I have a man^s mind^ but a woman^s tnight,
— That is, but only a woman's might.

262. How hard it is for women to keep coun-
sel. — Counsel in this phrase is what has been im-
parted in consultation. In the phrases To take
counsel and To hold counsel it means simply con-
sultation. The two words Couizsel and Council
have in some of their applications got a little inter-
mingled and confused, although the Latin Co7isiliutn
and Concilium^ from which they are severally de-
rived, have no connection. A rather perplexing
instance occurs in a passage towards the conclusion
of Bacon's Third Essay, entitled Of Unity in Re-
ligion^ which is commonly thus given in the modern
editions : " Surely in counsels concerning religion,
that counsel of the apostle would be prefixed — Ira
hominis non implet justitiam Dei.^^ But as pub-
lished by Bacon himself, if we may trust Mr. Singer's
late elegant reprint, the words are, " in Councils
concerning Religion, that Counsel of the Apostle — ."
What are we to say, however, to the Latin version,
executed under Bacon's own superintendence? —
*' Certe optandum esset, ut in omnibus circa Reli-
gionem consiliis, ante oculos hominum prsefigeretur
monitum illud Apostoli." I quote from the Elzevir
edition of 1662, p. 20. Does this support Councils
or Counsels concerning Religion ? Other somewhat
doubtful instances occur in the 20th Essay ^ entitled

sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 263

*' Of Counsel," and in the 29th, " Of the True Great-
ness of Kingdoms and Estates."

266. / heard a bustling rumour^ like a fray. —
Mr. Knight has by mistake " I hear." Rumor is
here (though not generally in Shakespeare) only a
noise ; a fray is a fight, from the French ; bustle is
apparently connected with busy^ which is a Saxon
word.

267. Sooth^ 7nadam. — Sooth^ when used at all,
may still mean either truth or true. We see that in
Shakespeare's time it also meant truly. The Saxon
soth is in like manner used in all these different ways.

268. Come hither^ fellow; which way hast thou
been ? — The line, which stands thus in the original
edition, and makes a perfect verse, is commonly cut
up into two hemistichs. But " Which way hast thou
been " is not a possible commencement of a verse,
unless we were to lay an emphasis on thou., which
would be absurd. Our bee7t., it may be noted, is
here, and commonly elsewhere, bin in the old text,
as the word is still pronounced. Tyrwhitt would
substitute Artemidorus for the Soothsayer in this
scene ; but the change is not necessary. It is to be
observed that we have both Artemidorus and the
Soothsayer in the next scene (the First of the Third
Act). Nevertheless, there is some apparent want
of artifice in what may be almost described as the
distribution of one part between two dramatis per'
sonce; and there may possibly be something wrong.

270. What is^t o'clock ? — In the original text a
clocke. See 65.

276. Why., knowest thou any harm's intended
towards him ? — Any harm that is intended. As
in 34 and 214.

277. None that I know^ etc. — Hanmer and Stee-

264 Philological Commentary, [act ii.

vens object to the may chance here, as at once un-
necessary to the sense and injurious to the prosody.
We should not have much missed the two words,
certainly ; but they may be borne with. The line is
bisected in the original edition ; but, if it is to be
accepted, it is better, perhaps, to consider it as a
prolonged verse. In this somewhat doubtful instance
the rhythm will be certainly that of an Alexandrine.
Let the three words know will be^ and also the three
fear 7nay chance^ at any rate, be each and all em-
phatically enunciated.

277. /'// get me. — Compare this with get thee
gone in 260, and also with^^^j^^^^ home in i.

277. \^A flace more void. — For void = empty, as
here, see Gen. i. 2 ; i Kings xxii. 10. So Hall,
Hen. VIII. : " and yet was in euery voyde place
spangels of golde." In Wiclif 's Bible, Luke xx. 10,
we have, " beeten him, and letten him go voyde."]

278. Ay me I how weak a thing. — This (written
Aye me) is the reading of all the old copies. That
of the modern editions, Mr. Collier's one-volume
included, is '-^Ah me ! " The readers of Milton will
remember his " Ay me ! I fondly dream. Had ye
been there," and, again, " Ay me ! whilst thee the
shores and sounding seas Wash far away," &c.
{Lycidas^ ^6 and 154). So also in Comus, 511, and
Samson Agonistes, 330. Even in Paradise Lost
we have " Ay me ! they little know How dearly I
abide that boast so vain" (iv. ZG)., and "Ay me!
that fear Comes thundering back with dreadful revo-
lution" (x. 813), — although in the latter passage ah
has been substituted in many of the modern editions.
Ah me is a form which he nowhere uses.

278. The heart of woman is I etc. — The broken
lines here seem to require to be arranged as I have

sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 265

given them. We do not get a complete verse (if
that were an object) by the incongruous annexation
of the '* O Brutus " to the previous exclamation.

278. Brutus hath a suit^ etc. — This she addresses
in explanation to the boy, w^hose presence she had
for a moment forgotten.

278. Commend me to my lord. — In this idiomatic
or formal phrase the word cofnmend has acquired
a somewhat peculiar signification. The resolution
would seem to be, Give my commendation to him,
or Say that I commend myself to him, meaning that
I commit and recommend myself to his affectionate
remembrance. So we have in Latin " Me totum
tuo amori fideique commendo " ( Cicero^ Epist. ad
Att. iii. 20) ; and " Tibi me totum commendo atque
trado " {Id. Epist. Fain. ii. 6). At the same time,
in considering the question of the origin and proper
meaning of the English phrase the custom of what
was called Commendation in the Feudal System is
not to be overlooked : the vassal was said to commend
himself to the person whom he selected for his lord.
Commend is etymologically the same word with
command; and both forms, with their derivatives,
have been applied, in Latin and the modern tongues
more exclusively based upon it, as well as in Eng-
lish, in a considerable variety of ways.

ACT III.

Scene I. All the heading that we have to this
Act in the original copy, where the whole is thrown
into one scene, is, ''''Flourish. Fitter Ccesar^ Bru-
tus^ Cassius., Caska., Decius., Metellus., Trebonius^
Cynna^ Anto?zy, Bepidus, Artemidorus, Publius.,
and the Soothsayer^* — A Flourish is defined by

266 Philological Commentary, [act hi,

Johnson " a kind of musical prelude." It is com-
monly, if not always, of trumpets. The word is of
continual occurrence in the stage directions of our
old Plays ; and Shakespeare has, not only in his
Richard III. iv. 4,

A flourish, trumpets ! — strike alarum, drums !
but in Titus Andronicus^ iv. 2,

Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

282. Doth desire you to der-read. — Over (or der^
in composition has four meanings: i. Throughout
(or over all), which is its effect here (answering to
the -per in the equivalent peruse) ; 2. Beyond, or in
excess, as in overleaps overpay ; 3. Across, as in
one sense o^ overlook ; 4. Down upon, as in another
sense of the same verb.

282. At your best leisure. — Literally, at the lei-
sure that is best for your convenience, that best suits
you. The phrase, however, had come to be under-
stood as implying that the leisure was also to be as
early as could be made convenient.

282. This his humble suit. — Sttit is from sue
(which we also have in composition in e7tsue^ issue^
pursue) ; and sue is the French suivre (which,
again, is from the Latin sequor^ secutus). A suit
of clothes is a set, one ^\&zq, following or correspond-
ing to another. Suite is the same word, whether
used for a retinue, or for any other kind of succession
(such as a suite of apartments).

284. That touches us ? Ourself shall be last served,
— This is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. annota-
tor. [" A specious, but entirely needless change,"
as White well calls it.] The common reading is,
*' What touches us ourself shall be last served." To
serve^ or attend to, a person is a familiar form of

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 267

expression ; to speak of a thing as served^ in the
sense of attended to, would, it is apprehended, be
unexampled. The " us ourself," however, would
be unobjectionable. Whatever may be the motive
or view which has led to the substitution of the
plural for the singular personal pronoun in certain
expressions, it is evident that the plurality of the
pronoun could not conveniently be allowed to carry
along with it a corresponding transformation of all
the connected words. Although an English king
might speak of himself as We^ it would be felt that
the absurdity was too great if he were to go on to
say, *' We the Kings of England." Hence such
awkward combinations as " We ourself," or " Us
ourself; " which, however, are only exemplifications
of the same construction which we constantly em-
ploy in common life when in addressing an individ-
ual we say " You yourself." The same contradiction,
indeed, is involved in the word Tourself standing
alone. It may be observed, however, that the verb
always follows the number of the pronoun which is
its nominative, so that there is never any violation
of the ordinary rule of grammatical concord. Upon
the nature of the word Self^ see Latham, £ng.
Lan, ^th Ed. § 661. See also the note on 54, Did
lose his lustre.

288. There is no such stage direction in the old
editions as we now have at the end of this speech.

291. The stage direction attached to this speech
is also modern.

294. Look., how he makes to Ccesar. — We should
now say, he makes up to. And we also say to make

I for.^ with another meaning. — For the prosody of
this verse, see note on 246.

295. Casca, be sudden.^ etc. — We should now

268 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

rather say, Be quick. Prevention is hiiiderance by-
something happening before that which is hindered.
See 147.

295. Cassius on CcEsar never shall turn back. —
The reading of all the old copies is " or Cassar," and
it is retained by most or all of the modern editors.
It is interpreted by Ritson as meaning " Either
Caesar or I shall never return alive." But to turn
back cannot mean to return alive, or to return in any
way. The most it could mean would be to make a
movement towards returning ; which is so far from
being the same thing with the accomplished return
which this translation would have it to imply that it
may almost be said to be the very opposite. Besides,
even if to turn back could mean here to leave or get
away from the Capitol alive, although Cassius, by
plunging his dagger into his own heart, would indeed
have prevented himself from so escaping, how was
that act to bring with it any similar risk to Caesar?
I will slay myself, Cassius is supposed to say, where-
by either I shall lose my life or Caesar will his.
The emendation of "or Caesar" into '''•on Caesar"
was proposed and is strongly supported by Malone,
although he did not venture to introduce it into his
text. [White adopts it.] We have probably the
opposite misprint of on for or in the speech of Pau-
lina in the concluding scene of The Winter* s Tale^
where the old copies give us, —

Then, all stand still :
On : those that think it is unlawful business
I am about, let them depart, —

although Mr. Knight adheres to the on and the
point. [White has or.^

296. Cassius, be constant. — See 262.

296. Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes. —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 269

Although this verse has twelve syllables, it is not for
that an Alexandrine. Its rhythm is the same as if
the last word had been merely the dissyllable pur-
pose^ or even a monosyllable, such as act or deed.
It is completed by the strong syllable pur- in the
tenth place, and the two unaccented syllables that
follow have no prosodical effect. Of course, there
is also an oratorical emphasis on our., although stand-
ing in one of those places which do not require an
accented syllable, but which it is a mistake to sup-
pose incapable of admitting such.

296. Ccesar doth not change. — In his manner of
looking, or the expression of his countenance.

297. The stage direction attached to this speech is
modern.

299. He is addressed. — To dress is the same
word with to direct. Immediately from the French
dresser., it is ultimately from the Latin dirigere., and
its literal meaning, therefore, is, to make right or
straight. Formerly, accordingly, anything was said
to be dressed or addressed when it was in complete
order for the purpose to which it was to be applied.
Thus, in 2 Henry IV. iv. 4, the King says, " Our
navy is addressed, our power collected ; " and in A
Midsuinmer Night's Dream., v. i, Philostratc, the
Master of the Revels, makes his official announce-
ment to Theseus thus : " So please your Grace,
the prologue is addressed." So He is addressed
in the present passage means merely He is ready.
The primary sense of the word is still retained in
such phrases as To dress the ranks ; and it is not far
departed from in such as To dress cloth or leather.
To dress a wound, To dress meat. The notion of
decoration or embellishment which we commonly
associate with dressing does not enter fully even into

270 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

the expression To dress the hair. In To redress^
meaning to set to rights again that which has gone
wrong, to make that which was crooked once more
straight, we have the simple etymological or radical
import of the word completely preserved. To re-
dress is to re-rectify.

The following are some examples of the employ-
ment of the word addressed by writers of the latter
part of the seventeenth century : " When Middle-
ton came to the King in Paris, he brought with him
a little Scotish vicar, who was known to the King,
one Mr. Knox. . . . He said he was addressed from
Scotland to the Lords in the Tower, who did not
then know that Middleton had arrived in safety with
the King ; " etc. — Clarendon, History^ Book xiii.
" Thereupon they [the King's friends in England]
sent Harry Seymour, who, being of his Majesty's
bedchamber, and having his leave to attend his own
affairs in England, they well knew would be be-
lieved by the King, and, being addressed only to the
Marquis of Ormond and the Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer, he might have opportunity to speak with
the King privately and undiscovered ; " etc. — Id.
Book xiv. " Though the messengers who were sent
were addressed only to the King himself and to the
Chancellor of the Exchequer ; " etc. — Ibid. " Two
gentlemen of Kent came to Windsor the morning
after the Prince [of Orange] came thither. They
were addressed to me. And they told me ; " etc. —
Burnet, Ow7t Ti?ncs^ i. 799*

300. Tbzt are thejirst that rears your hand. — In
strict grammar, perhaps, it should be either " rears
his " or ^' rear your ; " but the business of an editor
of Shakespeare is not to make for us in all cases
perfect grammar, but to give us what his author in

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 271

all probability wrote. A writer's grammatical irreg-
ularities are as much part of his style, and therefore
of his mind and of himself, as any other characteristic.

301. Casca. Are uue all ready? 303. Cces. What
is now amissy etc. — There can, I think, be no doubt
that Mr. Collier's MS. annotator has here again
given us the true reading, and a valuable restoration.
[Dyce, Hudson, and White adopt it.] What Casca
could possibly mean by exclaiming, " What is now
amiss. That Caesar and his Senate must redress?" is
nearly inconceivable. The question is plainly suit-
able to Caesar only, to the person presiding ; the pro-
ceedings could never have been so opened by any
mere member of the Senate. And the absurdity of
supposing it to have been spoken by Casca becomes
still stronger when we have to consider it as a nat-
ural sequence of the "Are we all ready?" which
immediately precedes. Even if any one of the con-
spirators was likely to have made such a display, it
was hardly Casca.

303. Most puissant Cossar. — Pulssa?it^ and the
substantive form puissance^ are, I believe, always
dissyllables in Milton ; with Shakespeare they gen-
erally are so (as here), but not always. Thus in
King yohn^ iii. i, the King says to the Bastard, —

Cousin, go draw our puissance together.

Walker, however, is mistaken in producing the
line, —

Either past, or not arrived to pith and puissance —

(from the Chorus before the Third Act of King
Henry the Fifth) as necessarily to be read with the
trisyllabic division of the word. It is not even
probable that it ought to be so read, — barely pos-
sible. In Spenser too we have occasionally this

272 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

pronunciation ; as in F. ^. v. 2. 7, " For that he
is so puissant and strong ; " and again in stanza 17,
*' His puissance, ne bear himself upright."

304. These crouchings. — This is the correction
(for the couchhtgs of the old printed copies) of Mr.
Collier's MS. annotator. Surely it does not admit
of a doubt. [Hudson and White have couchings^
and below low-crooked. The former quotes Rich-
ardson, v/ho gives "to low^er, to stoop, to bend
dow^n," as meanings of to couch; while the latter
refers to Singer's citations from Huloet : " Cowche,
like a dogge ; procumbo^ prosterno^^^ " crooke-backed
or crowche-backed."]

304. And turn pre-ordinance^ etc. — The reading
of the old text here is " into the lane of children."
Malone actually attempts an explanation of " the
lane of children ; " he says it may mean " the nar-
row conceits of children, which must change as their
minds grow more enlarged " ! The prostration of
the human understanding before what it has got to
hold as authority can hardly be conceived to go
beyond this. Johnson conjectured that lane might
be a misprint for law; and Mr. Collier's MS. an-
notator, it appears, makes the same emendation.
[It is adopted by Dyce, Hudson, and White.] The
new reading may still be thought not to be perfectly
satisfactory ; but at least it is not utter nonsense, like
the other. In a passage which has evidently suffered
some injury, we may perhaps be allowed to suspect
that ^'•jirst decree " should be '-'- fixed decree." The
word would be spelled fixt^ as it is immediately
afterwards in 309.

304. Be not fond., etc. — The sense in which fond
is used here (that of foolish) appears to be the origi-
nal one ; so that when tenderness of affection was

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 273

first called fondness it must have been regarded as a
kind of folly. In like manner what was thought of
doting upon anything, or any person, may be inferred
from the import of the word dotage. In Chaucer a
fonne is a fool ; and the word fo7idling can scarcely
be said to have yet lost that meaning.

[Compare Wichf's Bible, i Cor. i. 27 : " But God
chees the thingis that ben fonnyd of the world to
confounde wise men." So Udall's Erasmus: " With
these fond ceremonies is the tyme consumed awaie
therewhyle," etc. And Latimer, Sermons : " It is
a fond thing : I will not tarry in it."]

304. Such rebel bloody That will be thawed, —
See 44.

304. Low-crouched curtsies. — This is the cor-
rection of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator : the Folios
have '' Low-crooked-curtsies " (with hyphens con-
necting all the three words). We say to crouch
low., but not to crook low. Curtsies., which we
have here, is the same word which appears in the
second line of the present speech as courtesies. It
is akin to court and courteous^ the immediate root
being the French cour ; which, again, appears to
be the Latin curia., — or rather curiata (scil. cO'
mitia?)^ as is indicated by our English court., and
the old form of the French word, which was the
same, and also by the Italian corte and the Spanish
carte and cortes. [Wedgwood derives court from
the Latin cohors., chors., an enclosed place. vScheler,
Diet, d^ Etymol. Franc, and the revised Webster
also give this etymology.] Mr. Collier prints cour-
tesies. It is curtsies in the Second Folio, as well
as in the First.

304. Know., Ccesar doth not wrong., etc. — This
is the reading of all the old printed copies, and Mr.
18

274 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

Collier expressly states that it is left untouched by
his MS. corrector. We must take it as meaning,
" Caesar never does what is wrong or unjust ; nor
will he be appeased (when he has determined to
punish) without sufficient reason being shown." At
the same time, it must be confessed both that these
two propositions, or affirmations, do not hang very
well together, and also that such meaning as they
may have is not very clearly or effectively expressed
by the words. " Nor without cause will he be sat-
isfied" has an especially suspicious look. That
" without cause " should mean without sufficient
reason being shown why he should be satisfied or
induced to relent, is only an interpretation to which
we are driven for want of a better. Now, all this
being so, it is remarkable that there is good evidence
that the passage did not originally stand as we now
have it. Ben Jonson, in his Discoveries^ speaking
of Shakespeare, says, " Many times he fell into those
things could not escape laughter ; as when he said
in the person of Caesar, one speaking to him, ' Caesar,
thou dost me wrong,' he replied, ' Caesar did never
wrong but with just cause.' " And he ridicules the
expression again in his Staple of Neuus: "Cry you
mercy ; you never did wrong but with just cause."
We must believe that the words stood originally as
Jonson has given them ; and he had evidently heard
of no alteration of them. Whoever may have at-
tempted to mend them might perhaps have as well
let them alone. [Hudson and White agree with
Collier in the opinion that Jonson was speaking
only from memory, which, as he himself says, was
" shaken with age now, and sloth," and so misquoted
the Poet.] After all, Csesar's declaring that he
never did wrong but with just cause would differ

sc. I.] Julius C-^sar. 275

little from what Bassanio says in The Merchant of

Ve7iice^ iv. i : —

I beseech you,
Wrest once the law to your authority :
To do a great right do a little wrong.

Shakespeare, however, may have retouched the pas-
sage himself on being told of Jonson's ridicule of it,
though perhaps somewhat hastily and with less
painstaking than Euripides when he mended or cut
out, as he is said to have done in several instances,
what had incurred the derisive criticism of Aris-
tophanes.

305. Por the repealing^ etc. — To repeal (from
the French rappeler) is literally to recall, though no
longer used in that sense, — in which, however, it
repeatedly occurs in Shakespeare. Thus in Corlo-
lanus, iv. i, after the banishment of Marcius, his
friend Cominius says to him, —

If the time thrust forth
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send, etc.

For the probable pronunciation of banished in this
and in the preceding speech, see the note on 246.

306. Desiring thee, — We should now say in this
sense " desiring of thee." To desire^ from the Latin
desiderium (through the French desir) is the same
as to desiderate ; but, like other similar terms, it has
in difterent constructions, or has had in different
stages of the language, various meanings according
to the measure or degree of intensity in which that
which it expresses is conceived to be presented. It
may be found in every sense, from such wishing or
longing as is the gentlest and quietest of all things
(the soft desire of the common herd of our amatory
verse-mongers) to that kind which gives utterance to
itself in the most imperative style of command.

276 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

306. An immediate freedom of repeal. — A free,
unconditional recall. This application of the term
freedo?n is a little peculiar. It is apparently imi-
tated from the Q.y.^xQ^%€\ow freedom of a city. As that
is otherwise called the municipal franchise.^ so this
is called enfranchisement in the next speech but one.

308. As low as to thy foot. — The Second Folio
has " As love:'

309. / could be well moved. — I could fitly or
properly be moved.

309. If I could fray to move^ prayers would move
me. — The meaning seems to be, " If I could employ
prayers (as you can do) to move (others), then I
should be moved by prayers (as you might be)."

309. But I am, constant as the northern star. —
See 262.

309. Resting quality. — Qiiality or property of
remaining at rest or immovable.

309. But there's but one in all doth hold his
place. — That is, its place, as w^e should now say.
See 54.

309. Apprehensive. — Possessed of the power of
apprehension, or intelligence. The word is now
confined to another meaning.

309. That unassailable., etc. — Holds on his rank
probably means continues to hold his place ; and un-
shaked of motion^ perhaps, unshaken by any motion,
or solicitation, that may be addressed to him. Or,
possibly, it may be, Holds on his course unshaken in
his motion, or with perfectly steady movement.

311. Wilt thou lift up Olympus? — Wilt thou
attempt an impossibility? Think you, with your
clamor, to upset what is immovable as the everlast-
ing seat of the Gods?

313. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? — Has not

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 277

Brutus been refused, and shall any other be listened
to? It is surprising that Dr. Johnson should have
missed seeing this, and proposed to read " Do not,
Brutus, bootless kneel." That, however (which
Johnson does not appear to have known), is also the
reading of the Second Folio, — except, indeed, that
the point of interrogation is, notwithstanding, still
preserved.

314. — The only stage direction after this speech
in the original edition is, '"'• They stab Ccesar^

315. — Et tUy Brute. — There is no ancient Latin
authority, I believe, for this famous exclamation,
although in Suetonius, i. 82, Caesar is made to ad-
dress Brutus Kca tfi), Texvov; (And thou too, my son?).
It may have occurred as it stands here in the Latin
play on the same subject whicli is recorded to have
been acted at Oxford in 1582 ; and it is found in The
True Tragedy of Richard Duke of Tork^ first
printed in 1595, on which the Third Part of King
Henry the Sixth is founded, as also in a poem by S.
Nicholson, entitled Acolastus his Afterwit^ printed
in 1600, in both of which nearly contemporary pro-
ductions we have the same line — "jE"^ tu^ Brute?
Wilt thou stab Caesar too?" It may just be noticed,
as the historical fact, that the meeting of the Senate
at which Caesar was assassinated was held, not, as
is here assumed, in the Capitol, but in the Curia in
which the statue of Pompey stood, being, as Plu-
tarch tells us, one of the edifices which Pompey had
built, and had given, along with his famous Theatre,
to the public. It adjoined the Theatre, which is
spoken of (with the Portico surrounding it) in 130,
138, and 140. The mistake which we have here is
found also in Hamlet., where (iii. 2) Hamlet ques-.
tions Polonius about his histrionic performances

278 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

when at the University : " I did enact Julius Caesar,"
says Polonius ; " I was killed i' the Capitol ; Brutus
killed me ;" to which the Prince replies, " It was a
brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there." So
also, in Antony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6 : —

What
Made the all-honoured, honest, Roman Brutus,
With the armed rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom,
To drench the Capitol ?

Even Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Tragedy en-
titled The False One^ in defending themselves from
the imputation of having taken up the same subject
which had been already brought on the stage in the
present Play, say, —

Sure to tell
Of Caesar's amorous heats, and how he fell
I' the Capitol, can never be the same
To the judicious.

In the old copies the only stage direction at the end
of this speech is the word ^^Dies."

318. Ambition's debt is paid. — Its debt to the
country and to justice.

334. \_Publius^ good cheer. — Cheer ^ Fr. chere,,
originally meant the countenance, aspect.

She cast on me no goodly ckere. — Gower, Conf. Am.

All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer.

Mid. N. 's Dr. iii. 2.
He ended, and his words their drooping cheer
Enlightened. — Milton, P. L. vi. 496.

Hence " to be of good cheer" is, literally, to wear a
pleasant face, to look cheerful.]

324. Nor to no Roman else. — Where, as here,
the sense cannot be mistaken, the reduplication of
the negative is a very natural way of strengthening
the expression. It is common in the Saxon.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 279

326. And let no man abide this deed. — Let no
man be held responsible for, or be required to stand
any consequences that may follow upon any penalty
that may have to be paid on account of, this deed.
Another form of the verb to abide is to aby; as in
A Midsummer Nighfs Dream., iii. 2 : —

If thou dost intend
Never so little shew of love to her,
Thou shalt aby it ; —

and in the same scene, a little before, " Lest to thy
peril thou aby it dear ; " and, a little after, " Thou
shalt 'by this dear." So in the Old Version of the
Psalms., iii. 26, " Thou shalt dear aby this blow."
It may be questioned whether abide in this sense has
any connection with the common word. To aby
has been supposed by some to be the same with
buy. — The original stage direction is £nter Tre-
bonius.

327. Where's Antony. — In the original text,
"Where is Antony."

328. As it ivere doomsday. — The full expression
would be " as if it were doomsday." — The doom
of doomsday is the Saxon dom^ judgment, a deriva-
tive of dema7t (whence our deem)^ to judge. The
Judges in the Isle of Man and in Jersey are called
Deemsters. In Scotland formerl)* the Dempster of
Court vfSiS the legal name for the common hangman ;
but the word also designated a species of judge.
The Dempsters of Caraldstone in Forfarshire were
so called as being hereditary judges to the great
Abbey of Aberbrothock. Lord Hailes, under the
year 1370, refers to an entry in the Chartulary
recording that one of them had become bound to
the Abbot and Abbey that he and his heirs should
furnish a person to administer justice in their courts

28o Philological Commentary, [act hi.

at an annual salary of twenty shillings sterling
{^facient ipsis deserviri de officio judicis^ etc.). —
A^inals^ ii. 336 [edit, of 1819].

330. Why^ he that cuts offi etc. — The modern
editors, generally, give this speech to Cassius ; but
it is assigned to Casca in all the old copies. [Hud-
son and White give it to Casca. The former remarks
that it is strictly in keeping with what Casca says in
127.]

332. Stoops then, and wash. — So in Coriolanus,
i. 10, we have — ''''Wash my fierce hand in his
heart." In both passages wash, which is a Saxon
word (preserved also in the German waschen), is
used in what is probably its primitive sense of im-
mersing in or covering with liquid. Thus we say
to wash with gold or silver. So in Antony and
Cleopatra, v. i , Octavius, on being told of the death
of Antony, exclaims, " It is a tidings To wash the
eyes of kings."

332. In states unborn. — The First Folio, and
that only, has " In state unborn," — palpably a
typographical error, and as such now given up by
everybody, but a reading which Malone, in his
abject subservience to the earliest text, actually re-
tained, or restored, interpreting it as meaning " in
theatric pomp as yet undisplayed."

333. That now 07t Pompey's basis lies along". —
At the base of Pompey's statue, as in 425. — In the
First Folio it is " lye along ; " in the Second, " lyes.*'
["Lie along" for lie at full length, be prostrate,
occurs in jfudg^es vii. 13. For another instance
in Shakespeare see Coriol. v. 6 : " When he lies
along," etc.]

334. The men that gave their country liberty. —
This is the reading of all the old copies, which Mr.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 281

Knight has restored, after their had been turned into
our by the last century editors (Malone included),
not only unnecessarily and. unwarrantably, but also
without notice. [Collier, Dyce, Hudson, and White
have their.']

336. With the most boldest. — In the old version
of the Psalms we are familiar with the form the most
Highest; and even in the authorized translation of
the Bible we have, in Acts xxvi. 5, " the most strait-
est sect of our religion." Nor is there anything
intrinsically absurd in such a mode of expression.
If we are not satisfied to consider it as merely
an . intensified superlative, we may say that the
7nost boldest should mean those who are boldest
among the boldest. So again in 425, " This was
the most unkindest cut of all." In most cases, how-
ever, the double superlative must be regarded as
intended merely to express the extreme degree more
emphatically. Double comparatives are very com-
mon in Shakespeare.

338. Say., I love Brutus. — Mr. Knight has, ap-
parently by a typographical error, " I lov'd."

338. May safely come to hi?n^ and be resolved. —
That is, have his perplexity or uncertainty removed.
We might still say, have his doubts resolved. But
we have lost the more terse form of expression, by
which the doubt was formerly identified with the
doubter. So again, in 425, Caesar's blood is described
by Antony as

rushing out of doors, to be resolved

If Brutus so unkindly knocked or no ;

and in 505 Brutus, referring to Cassius, asks of Lu-
cilius, " How he received you, let me be resolved."
[See heading of chaps, x. and xii. of Mark's Gospel.]
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator appends the stage direc-

282 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

tion ''^ICneelin^" to the first line of this speech, and
'•''Rising'^* to the last.

338. [^Thorough the -hazards. — Thorough (or
thorow^ as it is sometimes spelt) and through are
the same word ; as also are thoroughly and through-
ly. Shakespeare used both forms, as the following
examples will show : —

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough briar,
Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire.

Mid. N.'s Dream, ii. i.

How he glisters
Thorough my rust ! — Winter's Tale, iii. 2.

See also 709. Examples of through need not be
given. See 425, 458, etc.

I am informed throughly of the case.

Mer. of Ven., iv. I.
You scarce can right me throughly, etc.

Wi?zter's Tale, ii. i.
I'll be revenged
Most throughly for my father. — Hamlet, iv. 5.

I am throughly weary. — Cymbeline, iii. 6.

Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded.

Coriolanus, i. i.

Compare,:<also Bacon, Essay ^th — " that saileth, in
the fraile barke of the flesh, thorow the waves of the
world." Also, Essay ^^th — " to looke backe upon
anger, when the fitt is throughly over."

In Nujnbers xxviii. 29, we have thorowout for
throughout.^ in the edition of 161 1. And in the
Mer. of Ven. ii. 7, we have yet another of these
old forms : —

The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as tJiroughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia.]

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 283

339. Tell hlm^ so please him come unto this
place. — For the meaning of so here, see the note on
" So with love I might entreat you," in 57. There
is an eUipsis of the usual nominative (zV) before the
impersonal verb {please) ; and the infinitive co?}ze
also wants the customary prefix to. [See on i .] " So
please him come " is equivalent to If it please (or
may please) him to come.

341. / k?ioiv that we shall have him well to
friend. — So in Cymbeline., i. 5, lachimo says,
" Had I admittance and opportunity to friend." So
Macbeth (iii. 3), "What I can redress, As I shall
find the time to friend, I will." Even in Clarendon
we have, " For the King had no port to friend by
which he could bring ammunition to Oxford," etc. —
Hist.., Book vii. To friend is equiva:lent to for
friend. So we say To take to wife. The German
form of to {zu) is used in a somewhat similar man-
ner : "Das wird mich zu eurem, Freuitde tnachen
(That will make me your friend). In the JVinter*s
Tale, V. I, we have " Allvgreetings that a King at
friend Can send his brother." [Compare Matthew
iii. 9, Luke iii. 8 : " We have Abraham to our
father," etc.]

342. Falls shrewdly to the purpose. — The pur-
pose is the intention ; to the purpose is according to
the intention, as away from the purpose, or beside
the purpose, is without any such coincidence or con-
formity ; and to fall shrewdly to the purpose may
be explained as being to fall with mischievous sharp-
ness and felicity of aim upon that which it is sought
to hit. See 186.

343. The original heading is '-'•Enter Antony^

344. O mighty Ccesarl dost thou lie so low? —
Mr. Collier states in his Notes and Emendations^

284 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

p. 400, that a stage direction of his MS. annotator
requires Antony, on his entrance with this Hne, to
kneel over the body, and to rise when he comes to
" I know not, gentlemen, what you intend," etc.

344. JV/io else is rank. — Is of too luxuriant
growth, too fast-spreading power in the common-
wealth.

344. Nor no instrument. — Here the double neg-
ative, while it occasions no ambiguity, is palpably
much more forcible than either and no or nor any
would have been.

3z|4. Of half that worth as. — See 44.

344. / do beseech ye., if you bear me hard. — See
note on Bear me hard in 105. — The present line
affords a remarkable illustration of how completely
the old declension of the personal pronoun of the
second person has become obliterated in our modern
English. Milton, too, almost always has ye in the
accusative. Thus {Par. Lost., x. 462) — "I call
ye, and declare ye now, returned. Successful beyond
hope, to lead ye forth," etc. In the original form of
the language jK^ (ge) is always nominative, and you
(e6w) accusative; being the. very reverse of what
we have here.

344. Live a thousand years. — Suppose I live ;
If I live ; Should I live. But, although the sup-
pression of the conditional conjunction is common
and legitimate enough, that of the pronoun, or nom-
inative to the verb, is hardly so defensible. The
feeling probably was that the / in the next line
might serve for both verbs.

344. So apt to die. — Apt is properly fit, or suited,
generally, as here. So formerly they said to apt in
the sense both of to adapt and of to agree. I appre-
hend, however, that such an expression as aft to die

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 285

(for ready or prepared to die) would have been felt
in any stage of the language to involve an unusual
extension of the meaning of the word, sounding about
as strange as aftus ad moriendum would do in Latin.
We now, at all events, commonly understand the
kind of suitableness or readiness implied in apt as
being only that which consists in inclination, or
addictedness, or mere liability. Indeed, we usually
say disposed or inclined in cases in which apt was
the customary word in the English of the last cen.-
tury ; as in Smollett's Count Fathom^ vol. ii. ch. 27,
" I am apt to believe it is the voice of heaven." By
the substantive aptitude^ again, we mostly under-
stand an active fitness. The word apte was wont to
be not much used in French ; some of the diction-
aries do not notice it ; Richelet characterizes it as
obsolete ; adding, on the authority of Father Bou-
hours, that the noun aptitude is occasionally em-
ployed, although not considered to belong to the
Court language. Like many other old-fashioned
words, however, this has been revived by recent
writers. Such expi'essions as " On est apte i juger,"
meaning *'One has no difficulty in concluding," are
common in modern books. [Compare 2 Kings
xxiv. 16 ; I Tim. iii. 2 ; 2 Tim, ii. 24. See also
Graham, English Sy?tonymes^ s. v.]

344. As here^ by Ccesar and by you^ cut off, —
We may resolve the ellipsis by saying " as to be," or
" as being cut off." And " by Caesar " is, of course,
beside Caesar : " by you," through your act or in-
strumentality. A play of words, as it is called, was
by no means held in Shakespeare's day to be appro-
priate only to sportive writing, — any more than was
any other species of verbal artifice or ornament, such,
for instance, as alliteration, or rhyme, or verse itself.

286 Philological Commentary.- [act hi.

Whatever may be the etymology of by^ its primary
meaning seems to be alongside of (the same, ap-
parently, with that of the Greek -ffapa). It is only
by inference that instrumentality is expressed either
by it or by with (the radical notion involved in
which appears to be that of joining or uniting).
See 619.

344. The choice and master spirits of this age. —
Choice here may be understood either in the sub-
stantive sense as the elite^ or, better perhaps, as an
adjective in concord with spirits.

345. O A7tto7zy! beg- not your death of us.-^
That is. If you prefer death, or if you are resolved
upon death, let it not be of us that you ask it. The
sequel of the speech seems decisive in regard to the
us being the emphatic word.

345. And this the bleeding business. — Only a
more vivid expression for the bloody business, the
sanguinary act.

345. Our hearts you see not^ they are pitiful. —
Probably the primary sense of the Latin plus and
pietas may have been nothing more than emotion, or
affection, generally. But the words had come to be
confined to the expression of reverential affection
towards a superior, such as the gods or a parent.
From pietas the Italian language has received pietd,
(anciently pietade)^ which has the senses both of
reverence and of compassion. The French have
moulded the word into two forms, which (according
to what frequently takes place in language) have
been respectively, appropriated to the two senses ;
and from their piete and pitie we have borrowed,
and applied in the same manner, our piety and pity.
To the former, moreover, we have assigned the
adjective pious; to the latter, piteous. But pity^

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 287

which meant at one time reverence, and afterwards
compassion, has come in some of its uses to suffer
still further degradation, ^y pitiful (or full of pity)
Shakespeare, as we see here, means full of com-
passion ; but the modern sense of fitiful is con-
temptible or despicable. " Pity," it has been said,
or sung, " melts the soul to love ; " but this would
seem to show that it is also near akin to a very difter-
ent passion. And, instead of turning to love, it
would seem more likely that it should sometimes
pass on from contempt to aversion and hatred. In
many cases, too, when we say that we pity an indi-
vidual, we mean that we despise or loathe him.

345. As Jire drives out Jire^ so pity pity. — In
this line the first Jire is a dissyllable (like hour in
255), the second a monosyllable. The illustration
we have here is a favorite one with Shakespeare.
" Tut, man," says Benvolio to his friend Romeo
{Romeo and yuliet^ i. 2), —

one fire burns out another's burning,

One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

One fire burns out one fire; one nail, one nail,
exclaims Tullus Aufidius, in Coriolanus (iv. 7).
But we have the thought most fully expressed in
the soliloquy of Proteus in the Fourth Scene of the
Second Act of The Two Gentlemeri of Verona : —

Even as one heat another heat expels,

Or as one nail by strength drives out another,

So the remembrance of my former love

Is by a newer object quite forgotten.

This is probably also the thought which we have in
the heroic Bastard's exhortation to his uncle, in
King yohn^ v. i : —

Be stirring as the time; be fire with firej

Threaten the threatener ; etc.

288 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

345. For your fart, — We should not now use
this phrase in the sense which it has here (in so far
as regards you).

345. Our arms^ in strengtJi of welcome. — The
reading in all the old printed copies is, " in strength
of malice P Steevens interprets this, " strong in the
deed of malice they have just performed," and Ma-
lone accepts the explanation as a very happy one.
But who can believe that Brutus would ever have
characterized the lofty patriotic passion by which he
and his associates had been impelled and nerved to
their great deed as strength of malice ? It is simply
impossible. The earlier editors, accordingly, seeing
that the passage as it stood was nonsense, attempted
to correct it conjecturally in various ways. Pope
boldly printed " exempt from malice." Capel, more
ingeniously, proposed " no strength of malice," con-
necting the words, not with those that follow, but
with those that precede. [So Hudson.] But the
mention of m,alice at all is manifestly in the highest
degree unnatural. Nevertheless the word has stood
in every edition down to that in one volume produced
by Mr. Collier in 1853 ; and there, for the first time,
instead of " strength of malice^'' we have " strength
oi welcomed* This turns the nonsense into excellent
sense ; and the two words are by no means so unlike
as that, in a cramp hand or an injured or somewhat
faded page, the one might not easily have been mis-
taken by the first printer or editor for the other.
The " welcome " would probably be written welcoe.
Presuming the correction to have been made 6n doc-
umentary authority, it is one of the most valuable
for which we are indebted to the old annotator.
Even as a mere conjecture, it would be well entitled
to notice and consideration.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 289

[White says, " The difficulty found in this passage,
which even Mr. Dyce suspects to be corrupt, seems
to result from a forgetfulness of the preceding context.

Though now we must appear bloody and cruel^
As by our katids, and this our present act,
You see we do ; yet you see but our hands,
And this the bleeding business they have done.
Our hearts you see not ; they are pitiful ;
And pity'to the general wrong of Rome, etc.

So {Brutus continues) our arms, even in the in-
tensity of their hatred to Ccesar's tyranny, and our
hearts in their brotherly love to all Romans, do
receive you in."]

345. Of brother^ temper, — Brothers, that is, to
one another (not to you, Antony).

347. Beside themselves. — Other forms of the
same figure are Out of themselves^ Out of their
senses. And in the same notion we say of a per-
son whose mind is deranged that he is not himself.

347. And thetz ive will deliver you the cause. —
The history of the word deliver (properly to set
free, to let go forth, and hence, as applied to what
is expressed in words, to declare, to pronounce)
presents some points worthy of notice. In Latin
(besides liber., bark, or a book, and its derivative
delibrare^ to peel oft', with which we have at present
no concern), there are the adjective liber., free (to
which liberie children, probably belongs), and the
substantive llbra^ signifying both a balance and the
weight which we call a pound or twelve ounces.
Whether liber and libra be connected may be
doubted. The Greek form of libra., XiVpa, and the
probable identity of liber with ^Xsu^spog are against
the supposition that they are. At the same time,
that which \sfree., whether understood as meaning
19

290 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

that which is free to move in any direction, or that
which hangs even and without being inchned more
to one side than another, would be a natural enough
description of a balance. And libra (a balance), it
may be added, had anciently also the form of libera.
At any rate, from liber., free, we have the verb libe-
rare, to make free ; and from libra., a balance, or
weight, librarc to weigh.

So far all is regular and consistent. But then,
when we come to the compound verb deliberare,
we find that it takes its signification (and must there-
fore have taken its origin), not from liberare and
liber ^ but from librare and libra; it means, not to
free, but to weigh. And, such being the state of
things in the Latin language, the French has from
deliberare formed deliberer, having the same sig-
nification (to weigh).; but it has also from liber
formed another verb delivrer, with the sense of to
free. From the French deliberer and delivrer we
have, in like manner, in English, and with the same
significations, deliberate and deliver. Thus the
deviation begun in the Latin deliberare has been
carried out and generalized, till the derivatives from
liber have assumed the form that would have been
more proper for those from libra., as the latter had
previously usurped that belonging to the former.

[There is also the Old English deliver =z active,
nimble.

Having chosen his soldiers, of nimble, leane, and deliver
men. — Holins/ied, i<,^^.

Brave archers and deliver men, since nor before so good.
— Warner, Albion's Eng., 1586.

This comes directly from the French delivre., which
is used in the same sense. It gets its meaning
" probably from the notion of free, unencumbered

i

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 291

action " ( Wed^yuood). For other examples of the
word, see Chaucer, C. T. 84, and 15422 {deliverly)^
and T. of Melib. {delivernesse) ; Gower, Conf. A7n.
177, b., etc. The word clever has been supposed by
some to be a corruption of this deliver^ but it is
more probably from the Saxon gledw, gleawferdh^
sagacious ( Webster^ 1865). For another etymology
see Wedgwood, s. v.]

347. When I struck htm. — In the original printed
text it is '* strooke him."

348. Let each man render me his bloody hand. —
Give me back in return for mine. Here, according
to the stage direction of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator,
Antony " takes one after another of the conspirators
by the hand, and turns to the body, and bends over
it, while he says, ' That I did love thee, Caesar, O !
'tis true,' " etc.

348. Will I shake with you. — It is not to be sup-
posed that there was anything undignified in this
phraseology in Shakespeare's age.

348. Though last,, not least. — So in King Lear ^
i. I, "Although the last, not least in our dear love ; "
as is noted by Malone, who adds that " the same
expression occurs more than once in Plays exhibited
before the time of Shakespeare." We have it also
in the passage of Spenser's Colin Cloufs Come
Home Again,, in which Shakespeare has been sup-
posed to be referred to : —

And there, though last, not least, is ^tion ;

A gentler shepherd may no where be found;

Whose muse, full of high thought's invention,

Doth like himself heroically sound.

This poem was published in 1595.

348. Tou must conceit me. — See 142.

348. Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy

292 Philological Commentary, [act hi

death? — Of this use of dear we have several other
instances in Shakespeare. One of the most remark-
able is in Hamlet^ i. 2, w^here Hamlet exclaims, —

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Ere I had seen that day !

Horne Tooke {Div. of Purley^ 612, etc.) makes a
plausible case in favor of dear being derived from
the ancient verb derian^ to hurt, to annoy, and of
its proper meaning being, therefore, injurious or
hateful. His notion seems to be that from this
derian we have dearth^ meaning properly that sort
of injury which is done by the weather, and that, a
usual consequence of dearth being to make the prod-
uce of the earth high-priced, the adjective dear has
thence taken its common meaning of precious. This
is not all distinctly asserted ; but what of it may not
be explicitly set forth is supposed and implied. It
is, however, against an explanation which has been
generally accepted, that there is no appearance of
connection between derian and the contemporary
word answering to dear in the sense of high-priced,
precious, beloved, which is deore^ diire^ or dyre^
and is evidently from the same root, not with derian^
but with debran^ or dyran^ to hold dear, to love.
There is no doubt about the existence of an old
English verb dere^ meaning to hurt, the unquestion-
able representative of the original derian : thus in
Chaucer (C. T. 1824) Theseus says to Palamon and
Arcite, in the Knight's Tale, —

And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere
That never mo ye shul my contree dere^
Ne maken werre upon me night ne day,
But ben my frendes in alle that ye may.

But perhaps we may get most easily and naturally
at the sense which dear sometimes assumes by sup-

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 293

posing that the notion properly involved in it of
love, having first become generalized into that of a
strong affection of any kind, had thence passed on
into that of such an emotion the very reverse of love.
We seem to have it in the intermediate sense in such
instances as the following : —

Some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up a while. — Lear., iv. 3.
A precious ring; a ring that I must use
In dear employment. — Romeo and Juliet^ v. 3.

And even w^heu Hamlet speaks of his " dearest foe,"
or when Celia remarks to Rosalind, in As Tou Like
It^ \. 3, " My father hated his father dearly^' the
word need not be understood as implying more than
strong or passionate emotion.

348. Here wast thou bayed. — So afterwards, in
497, " We are at the stake, And bayed about with
many enemies." It is not clear, however, in what
sense the verb to be bayed is used in these passages.
Does it mean to be embayed, or enclosed ? or to be
barked at? or to be made to stand, as it is phrased,
at bay? The bays in these expressions appear to
be all different words. [See Webster, and Marsh's
Wedgwood.] In The Ta7ni7ig of the Shrew^ v. 2,
we have the unusual form at a bay — " 'Tis thought
your deer does hold you at a bay."

348. Signed in thy spoils and crimsoned in thy
death. — Instead oi death the First Folio has Lethee^
the others Lethe; and the passage is explained as
meaning marked and distinguished by being arrayed
in thy spoils (the power in the commonwealth which
was thine), and made crimson by being as it were
bathed in thy shed blood. But Steevens's note is
entirely unsatisfactory : *' Lethe^' he says, " is used
by many of the old translators of novels for death ; "

294 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

and then be gives as an example the following sen-
tence from the Second Part of Hey wood's Iron Age^
printed in 1632 : —

The proudest nation that great Asia nursed
Is now extinct in lethe.

Here lethe may plainly be taken in its proper and
usual sense of forgetfulness, oblivion. No other
example is produced either by the commentators or
by Nares. Shakespeare, too, repeatedly uses lethe^
and nowhere, unless it be in this passage, in any
other than its proper sense. If, hov,^ever, lethe and
lethum (or letuut)^ — which may, or may not, be
connected, — were really sometimes confounded by
the popular writers of the early part of the seven-
teenth century, they are kept in countenance by the
commentators of the eighteenth. Steevens goes on
to notice, as affording another proof that lethe some-
times signified death, the following line from Cupid's
Whirligigs printed in 1616 : —

For vengeance' wings bring on thy lethal day ; —

and he adds " Dr. Farmer observes, that we meet
with lethal for deadly in the Information for Mungo
Campbell." It is not easy to understand this. Who
ever doubted that deadly was the proper meaning
of lethalis (from lethutii) ? But what has that to
do with the signification of lethe ? I do not know
what it is that may have led Nares to imagine that,
when lethe meant death, it was pronounced as a
monosyllable. Seeing, however, that the notion of
its ever having that signification appears to be a
mere delusion, I have followed Mr. Collier in sup-
posing it to be here a misprint for deaths which was
the obvious conjecture of several of the editors of
the last century, and is sanctioned by the authority

sc. 1.] Julius C^sar. 295

of his MS. annotator. [Collier in his Second Edi-
tion restores Lethe^ which is the reading given by
Hudson, Staunton, and White. The last says,
" I have always understood this to mean, crimsoned
in the stream which bears thee to oblivion. . . . No
instance has been produced of the use of lethe in
any other sense than that of oblivion, actual or
figurative."]

348. Strucken by many princes. — It is stroken
in the original edition. — In the preceding line,
also, " the heart of thee " is there misprinted " the
hart of thee." But the two words are repeatedly
thus confounded in the spelling in that edition. —
Mr. Collier strangely prefers making this exclama-
tion, '^ How like a deer," etc., an interrogatory — as
if Antony asked the dead body in how far, or to what
precise degree, it resembled a deer, lying as it did
stretched out before him.

350. The enemies of Ccesar shall say this. —
Here again, as in " This shall mark Our purpose
necessary" of 187, we have a use of shall., which
now only remains with us, if at all, as an imitation
of the archaic. See 181. A singular consequence
has arisen from the change that has taken place.
By " shall say this " in the present passage Shake-
speare meant no more than would now be expressed
by " will say this ; " yet to us the shall elevates the
expression beyond its original import, giving it some-
thing, if not quite of a prophetic, yet of an impas-
sioned, rapt, and as it were vision-seeing character.

351. But what compact. — Compact has always,
I believe, the accent upon the final syllable in Shake-
speare, whether used as a substantive, as a verb, or
as a participle.

351. Will you be pricked in number of our

296 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

friends ? — To prick is to note or mark off. The
Sheriffs [in England] are still so nominated by a
puncture or mark being made at the selected names
in the list of qualified persons, and this is the vox
signata^ or established word, for the operation.

352. Swayed from the point. — Borne away, as
by a wave, from the point which I had in view and
for which I was making.

352. Friends am I with you all. — " This gram-
matical impropriety," Henley very well remarks,
" is still so prevalent, as that the omission of the
anomalous s would give some uncouthness to the
sound of an otherwise familiar expression." We
could not, indeed, S2Ly '-'• Friend am I with you all ; "
we should have to turn the expression in some other
way. In Troilus and Cressida^ iv. 4, however, we
have " And I'll grow friend with danger." Nor
does the pluralism oi friends depend upon that of
you all: " I am friends with you " is equally the
phrase in addressing a single person. / with you
am is felt to be equivalent to I and you are.

353. Our reasons are so full of good regard. —
So full of what is entitled to favorable regard. Com-
pare " many of the best respect " in 48.

353. That^ were you^ Antony^ the son of Ccesar.
— By all means to be thus pointed, so as to make
Antony the vocative, the name addressed ; not, as it
sometimes ludicrously is, " were you Antony the son
of Caesar." Son^ of course, is emphatic.

354. Produce his body to the market-place. —
We now say " produce to " with a person only.
[But, as White suggests, Antony here uses produce
in its radical sense, to bear forth.'\

354. Speak in the order of his fmeral. — In
the order is in the course of the ceremonial. [Com-

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 297

pare the expression in the Prayer Book, " The Order
for the Burial of the Dead."] Compare " That An-
tony speak in his funeral," in 356 ; and " Come I to
speak in Caesar's funeral," in 397.

356. The Aside here is not marked in the old
copies.

357. ^y your pardon. — I will explain, by, or
with, your pardon, leave, permission. " By your
leave " is still used.

357' Have all true rites. — This is the reading of
all the old copies. For ti'ue Pope substituted due.^
which is also the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. an-
notator. [But, as Collier says, " the change seems
rather for the worse," and he does not adopt it.]

357. // shall advantage more than do us "jurong.

— This old verb, to advantage^ is fast slipping out
of our possession. — Here again we have, according
to the old grammar, simple futurity indicated by
shall v^\\\\ the third person. See 181.

358. / know not what may fall. — We now com-
monly say to fall out^ rather than simply to fall., or
to befall.

359. Tou shall not in your funeral speech blame
us. — The sense and the prosody concur in demand-
ing an emphasis on zis.

359. And say you do't. — We do not now in seri-
ous or elevated writing use this kind of contraction.

361. The original stage direction after this speech
is, ''''Exeunt. Manet Antony. ^^

362. O pardon me^ thou bleeding piece of earth.

— So in all the early editions, and also in the greater
number of those of the last century [and in Hud-
son's and White's] ; but unaccountably altered into
" thou piece of bleeding earth " in the Variorum
edition of Malone and Boswell, the text of which

298 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

was generally taken as the standard for subsequent
reprints, till the true reading was restored by Mr.
Knight.

362. That ever lived in the tide of times. — This
must mean, apparently, in the course or flow of
times. Tide and time^ however, properly mean the
same thing. Tide is only another form of Zeit^ the
German word answering to our English time.
[Compare sfring-tide., even-tide., etc.] Time., ^g^ini,
is the French terns., or temps., the Latin tempus
(which has also in one of its senses, the part of the
head where time is indicated to the touch by the
pulsations of the blood, been strangely corrupted,
both in French and English, into temple., — dis-
tinguished, however, in the former tongue from
temple., a church, by a difference of gender, and
also written tempe). [Time is Saxon {tim.d)., not
French.]

362. [ Woe to the hand. — So the Folio of 1623.
Dyce and White read hands.']

362. A curse shall light upon the loins of men. —
This is one of the most remarkable of the new read-
ings for which we are indebted to Mr. Collier's MS.
annotator. The old printed text, " the limbs of
men," was felt by every editor not enslaved to the
First Folio to be in the highest degree suspicious.
By most of them the limbs of men seems to have
been understood to mean nothing more than the
bodies or persons of men generally. Steevens, how-
ever, says, " Antony means that a future curse
shall commence in distempers seizing on the limbs
of men., and be succeeded by commotion, cruelty,
and desolation over Italy." A strangely precise
style of prophecy ! For limbs Warburton proposed
to substitute line., Hanmer kind., and Johnson
livs.^ — " unless," he adds, " we read these lymmes

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 299

of men, that is, these bloodhounds of men." The
lymin^ lym^ lime^ timer ^ or limehound was used in
hunting the wild boar. The loins of men means,
of course, the generations of men. Even if pro-
posed as nothing more, this would have been one
of the most plausible of conjectures, and would
probably have at once commanded general accept-
ance. Warburton hit upon nearly what seems to
have been the meaning of Shakespeare, with \{\%line
of men ; but how much less Shakespearian the ex-
pression ! [Hudson and White give limbs, but the
latter considers it a very doubtful reading, and is
" almost sure " that Shakespeare wrote " the fonnes
of men." Staunton suggests " the tombs of men,"
and quotes in illustration the common Oriental male-
diction, " Cursed be thy grave ! "]

362. Quartered with the hands of war. — So
afterwards, in 425, " Here is himself, marred, as
you see, with traitors." See 124. We should now
rather regard the hands as the agents, and say " by
the hands of war."

362. With Ate by his side. — This Homeric
goddess had taken a strong hold of Shakespeare's
imagination. In Much Ado About JVothifig; ii. i,
Benedick, inveighing to Don Pedro against the Lady
Beatrice, says, '^ You shall find her the infernal Ate
in good apparel." In King yohn, iv. i, John's
mother, Qiieen Elinor, is described by Chatillon as
" an Ate stirring him to blood and strife." And in
Lovers Labour's Lost., v. 2, Biron, at the representa-
tion of the Nine Worthies, calls out, " More Ates,
more Ates ; stir them on ! stir them on ! " Where
did Shakespeare get acquainted with this divinity,
whose name does not occur, I believe, even in any
Latin author?

300 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

362. Cry Havoc ! — Havoc is the Saxon Jiafoc^
meaning waste, destruction; whence the Jiawk^ so
called as the bird of waste and ravage. Johnson
states on the authority of a learned correspondent
(known to be Sir William Blackstone), that " in the
military operations of old times, havoc was the word
by which declaration was made that no quarter
should be given." Milton in one place makes a
verb of this substantive : " To waste and havoc
yonder world " {Par. Lost^ x. 617).

362. Let slip the dogs of war. — Notwithstand-
ing the apparently considerable difference between
schlupfen and scJilafen^ by which they are severally
represented in modern German, slip may possibly
have been originally the same word with sleep. In
the Anglo-Saxon, although the common form is
slcBpan for to sleep and slipan for to slip^ we find
indications of slepan having been used for both.
To sleep, or fall asleep, may have been regarded as
a gliding, or softly moving, away. — To let slip a
dog at a deer, etc., was, as Malone remarks, the
technical phrase of Shakespeare's time. Hence the
leash^ out of which it was thus allowed to escape,
was called the slips. The proper meaning, indeed,
of leash (in French lesse.^ or laisse^ from laisser)^ is
that which lets go ; and this is probably also the true
meaning of the Spanish lasso; although, that which
lets go, or from which we let go, being also necessa-
rily that which has previously detJiined, lesse^ lasso^
leash^ and also lease, have all, as well as slip, come
to be regarded as involving rather the latter notion
(of detention or tenure), that being really the prin-
cipal or most important office which what is called
a slip or leash seems to perform. It was perhaps in
this way also that the verb to let acquired the sense

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 301

(now nearly obsolete) of to hinder, as well as its
more ordinary sense of to permit.

It is observed by Steele, in The Tatler^ No. 137,
that by " the dogs of war '* Shakespeare probably
meant j'fr^, sword ^ 2i\\Afa7nine^ according to what is
said in the Chorus to Act First of King Henry V. : —

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,

Assume the port of Mars ; and, at his heels.

Leashed in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire

Crouch for emploj^ment.

To this we might add what Talbot says, in i Henry
VI. iv. 2, to the Captains of the French forces be-
fore Bordeaux : —

You tempt the fury of my three attendants.

Lean Famine, quartering Steel, and climbing Fire.

In illustration of the passage from Henry the Pifth
Steevens quotes what Holinshed makes that King to
have said to the people of Roan (or Rouen) : " He
declared that the Goddess of Battle, called Bellona,
had three handmaidens ever of necessity attending
upon her, as Blood, Fire, and Famine." And at
that from Henry the Sixth Malone gives the follow-
ing extract from Hall's Chronicle : " The Goddess
of War, called Bellona, . . . hath these three hand-
maids ever of necessity attending on her ; Blood,
Fire, and Famine ; which three damosels be of that
force and strength that every one of them alone is
able and sufficient to torment and afflict a proud
prince ; and they all joined together are of puissance
to destroy the most populous country and most rich-
est region of the world."

It might, perhaps, be questioned whether the
words " And let slip the dogs of war " ought not
to be considered as also part of the exclamation of
Caesar's spirit.

302 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

362. That this foul deed^ etc. — So that.

362. With carrion men. — See 177. — The stage
direction in the original edition is '•'•Enter Octavids
Servant^

362. Tou serve Octavius Ccesar. — So called
throughout both this Play and that of Antony and
Cleopatra. He was properly now Ccesar Octa-
vianus.

365. The stage direction, Seeing" the Body^ is
modern.

366. For mine eyes. — This, which is clearly right,
is the reading of the Second Folio. The First has
" Passion I see is catching from mine eyes." [Dyce
suggests begin here, which White approves ; but
both leave began in the text.]

368. Tell him. what hath chanced. — See 69.

368. No Rome of safety. — See ^6.

368. Till I have borne this corse. — Corse here is
a modern conjectural substitution for the course of
the First and Second Folios, and the coarse of the
Third and Fourth.

368. The cruel issue of these bloody men. — The
result or end which they have brought about.

368. According to the which. — This archaism
occurs occasionally in Shakespeare, as it does also in
the common translation of the Scripfurcs : " Every
tree in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed "
(^Gen. i. 29). [Compare the French le-^uel.^

368. Lend me your hand. — We should now
rather say a hand. — The stage direction that fol-
lows is in the original edition, '•'•Exeunt. Enter
Brutus and goes into the Pulpit^ and Cassius with
the Plebeians"

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 303

Scene II. — 369. For Cit. here the original edi-
tion has Pie.; and afterwards for i OV., 2 OV.,
3 QV., it has i Ple.^ 2, 3 ; and for Cit. at 375, etc.,
it has All.

370. And part the numbers. — Divide the multi-
tude.

370. And public reasons shall be re^idered. — To
refider is to give back or in return for. Thus in 348,
as we have seen, Antony asks Brutus and his con-
federates to reiider him their hands in return for his
own. Here the act which had been done, the slaugh-
ter of Caesar, is that in return or compensation for
which, as it were, the reasons are to be given. — For
the prosody of the present line, see the note on " She
dreamt to-night she saw my statue " in 246. It may
be observed that in the First Folio, where the elision
of the e in the verbal affix -ed is usually marked,
the spelling is here rendred ; but this may leave it
.;till doubtful whether the word was intended to be
represented as of two or of three syllables. It is the
same in 372.

372. Exit Cassius^ etc. Brutus goes into the
Rostrum. — This stage direction is all modern.
The Rostrum is the same that is called " the public
chair " in 388, and " the pulpit " elsewhere. See
3^7' 3^9' 354' 35 7» 359- Rostrum is not a word
which Shakespeare anywhere uses. Nor, indeed, is
it a legitimate formation. It ought to be Rostra^ in
the plural, as it always is in Latin.

373. The 7ioble Brutus is ascended, — Even still
we commonly say is come^ is become., is gone., is
arrived^ is Jled^ is escaped^ etc. In the freer con-
dition of the language formerly such a mode of ex-
pression was carried a good deal farther. Thus, in
die present Play, we have in 328, " [Antony isj fled

304 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

to his house amazed ; " in 398, " O judgment ! thou
art fled to brutish beasts ; " in 458, " Brutus and
Cassius Are rid like madmen through the gates of
Rome ; " in 509, " Hark, he is arrived ; " in 623,
" The deep of night is crept upon our talk ; " in
703, " This morning are they fled away and gone ; "
in 721, "Time is come round;" and "My life is
run his compass."

\_I am come^ he is g-one^ etc., are equivalent to /
have come^ he has gone^ etc. The former are the
earlier and natural forms, and are still in good use,
though decidedly less common than the latter. The
writers on English grammar have generally either
ignored these obsolescent forms, or have attempted
to explain them as passive.^ In French, Italian,
German, and other languages, this conjugation with
be is the regular one for certain verbs. It is not
found in the Spanish. In Italian and German, as
in Anglo-Saxon, the verb to be can be conjugated
only in this way : io so7io stato^ ich bin gewesen^ etc.
Of course, forms like / have bee?t^ j'^i c/?e, yo he
sido^ etc., are illogical, according to the commonly
received explanation of the use of have as an auxil-
iary. See Latham, English Language^ Fifth Ed.

§ 717-]

374. Romans^ country meit^ and lovers. — See 259.

374. Have respect to mine honor, — That is,

merely, look to (not look up to). We still employ

* [One of the most popular, and on the whole one of the
least objectionable, of the school *' Grammars " of the day
states the matter thus : " Most intransitive verbs do not ad-
mit of the passive form. . . . But the verbs c^/W£j and ^^, and
perhaps a few others, may, in some cases, properly assume
the passive form; as The time is come. Verbs of this de-
scription are usually denominated neuter passive verbs'^
Of course, is come is really no more "passive" than is
black.-]

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 305

such words as respect and regard in different sensesi
according to circumstances. I look with regard, or
with respect, upon this man, or upon that institution.
With regard, or with respect, to another man or
institution I have nothing to say but what is con-
demnatory, or notliing to say at all.

374. Censure me. — That is, merely, pass judg-
ment upon me. See 328.

374. Any dear friend of Ccesar's^ to him I say.
— It is " to them I say" in the Second Folio.

374. Not that I loved Ccesar less, — Less than he
(the " dear friend ") loved Caesar.

374. But that I loved Rome more. — More than
he (the " dear friend of Caesar ") loved Rome.

374. Had you rather, — See note on Had as lief
in 54.

374. To live all freemen. — It is commonly print-
ed " free men," in two words. But the writer cannot
have intended that such prominence should be given
to the term men^ the notion conveyed by which is
equally contained in slaves ; for which, indeed, we
might have had bondmen., with no difference of effect.
If it ought to be "free men" here, it should be
"Who is here so base that would be a bond man? "
a few lines farther on. In the original edition it is
" freemen."

374. There is tears^ etc. — In many modern edi-
tions this is changed into " There are,'' But the
tears, joy, etc., are regarded as making one thing.
Instead of " There is," it might have been " This
is," or " That is."

375. The stage direction is modern.

376. The question of his death. — The word
question is here used in a somewhat peculiar sense.
It seems to mean the statement of the reasons. In

20

3o6 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

a note on the expression in Hamlet^ ii. 2, " Little
eyases, that cry out on the top of question," Steevens
gives it as his opinion that question " in this place,
as in many others, signifies conversation^ dialogued
And he quotes in corroboration Antonio's remark,
in The Merchant of Venice^ iv. i, " I pray you,
think you question with the Jew." But in that
passage the meaning of the word is merely the
ordinary one, you debate, argue, hold controversy,
with. The following may perhaps be adduced as
an instance of the use of the word in a somewhat
larger sense, involving little or nothing of the notion
of a doubt or dispute : " Thou shalt accompany
us to the place, where we will, not appearing what
we are, have some question with the shepherd."
Winter's Tale, iv. i.

376. Nor his offences enforced. — Dwelt upon
and pressed, or more than simply stated. In the
same sense in Coriolajtus, ii. 3, the tribune Sicinius
exhorts the populace touching Marcius — "Enforce
his pride. And his old hate unto you."

376. As -which of you shall not? — We find which
in the Saxon forms hwilc, hwylc, and hwelc — forms
which have been supposed to arise out of the com-
bination of the relative hwa with lie (like), the
annexation being designed to give greater general-
ization or indefiniteness of meaning to the pronoun.
At all events, the word is used with reference to
nouns of all genders, as is also its representative the
ivhilk, or quhilk, of the old Scottish dialect, and as
the English which, too, formerly was even when an
ordinary relative (as we have it in the time-honored
formula "Our Father which art in heaven"), and
still is both whenever it is interrogative and likewise
when the antecedent to which it is relative is either

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 307

suppressed or joined with it in the same concord and
government. Thus, we say of persons as well as of
things, "Which was it?" and "I do not know
which of them it was," as Brutus, addressing his
fellow-citizens, has here " Which of you ; " and it
is even allowable to say " Louis XVI., which king
it was in whose reign — or, in the reign of which
king it was — that the French Revolution broke
out."

The stage direction in the original edition is,
^''Enter Mark Antony^ with Ccesar's body"

376. My best lover. — See 259.

381. Shall now be crowned in Brutus. — The
now is not in the old texts, but was supplied by
Pope, and has been retained by Malone and Bos-
well, as well as by Steevens. [So Collier, Hudson,
and White. Dyce follows the old text, but doubts
its integrity.] It may not be the true word, but that
some word is wanting is certain. The dialogue here
is evidently intended to be metrical, and " Shall be
crowned in Brutus " is not a possible commencement
of a verse.

386. Do grace to Ccesar's corpse. — We have lost
this idiom, though we still say " to do honor to."
[Compare 407 : " do him reverence."]

389. I am beholden to you. — Both here and also
in 391 the first three Folios have all beholding^
which may possibly have been the way in which
Shakespeare wrote the word (as it is that in which
it was often written in his day), but may nevertheless
be rectified on the same principle as other similar
improprieties with which all modern editors have
taken that liberty. Yet beholding is, I believe,
always Bacon's word ; as in his Tenth Essay —
" The stage is more beholding to love than the life

3o8 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

of man." Even in Clarendon, reporting the words
of Qiieen Henrietta to himself, we have — "Her
old confessor. Father Philips, . . . always told her,
that, as she ought to continue firm and constant to
her own religion, so she was to live well towards the
Protestants who deserved well from her, and to whom
she was beholding.'^ {Hist. Book xiii.) The initial
syllable of the word is of more interest than its ter-
mination.

The complete disappearance from the modern
form of the English language of the verbal prefix
ge is a remarkable fact, and one which has not
attracted the notice which it deserves. This aug-
ment may be said to have been the favorite and most
distinguishing peculiarity of the language in the
period preceding the Norman Conquest. In the
inflection of the verb it was not merely, as in mod-
ern German, the sign of the past participle passive,
but might be prefixed to any other part ; and the
words of all kinds which commenced with it, and in
which it was not inflectional, amounted to several
thousands. Yet now there is no native English
word having ge for its initial syllable in existence ;
nor, indeed, has there been for many centuries :
there are not only no such words in Chaucer, whose
age (the fourteenth^century) is reckoned the com-
mencement of the period of what is denominated
Middle English ; there are none even in Robert de
Brunne, and very few, if any, in Robert of Glouces-
ter, who belong to the thirteenth century, or to the
age of what is commonly designated Early English.
The inflectional ge is found at a comparatively late
date only in the reduced or softened form of jk, and^
even so scarcely after the middle of the sixteenth
century (which may be taken as the date of the com-

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 309

mencement of Modern English) except in a few
antique words preserved or revived by Spenser. If
two or three such words as yclad and yclept are to
be found in Shakespeare, they are introduced with a
view to a burlesque or grotesque effect, as they might
be by a writer of the present day. They did not
belong to the language of his age any more than
they did to that of Tliomson, who in the last century
sprinkled his Castle of Indolence with words of this
description, the better to keep up his imitation of
Spenser. As for the " star-ypointing pyramid"
attributed to Milton (in his lines on Shakespeare), it
is in all probability a mistake of his modern editors :
" ypoint^tjf " might have been credible, but " ypoint-
ing'' scarcely is. The true reading probably is
" starry-pointing." [Compare Marsh, Led. on Eng.
Lang, Pirst Series^ p. 333.] It has commonly
been assumed that, with such rare and insignificant
exceptions (if exceptions they are to be considered),
the old prefix ge has entirely passed away or been
ejected from the language in its present state, — that
it has dropped oft", like a decayed member, without
anything being substituted in its place. But the fact
is not so. It is certain, that, both in its inflectional
and in its non-inflectional character, it still exists in a
good many words in a disguised form, — in that name-
ly of be. Many of our words beginning with be
cannot be otherwise accounted for. Our beloved.,
for example, is undoubtedly the Saxon gelufed.
Another remarkable instance is that of the familiar
word belief or believe. The Saxon has no such
verb as belyfan; its form for our believe is gelyfan
(the same .with the modern German glauben).
Again, to become (at least in the sense of to suit)
is the Saxon geciveman: there is no becweman.

3IO Philological Commentary, [act hi.

Become^ in this sense, it ought to be noticed, has
apparently no connection with to come (from coman,
or cuman) ; we have its root cweman in the old
English to quem^ meaning to please, used by Chau-
cer. And the German also, like our modern English,
has in this instance lost or rejected both the simple
form and the ge- form, retaining, or substituting,
only bequein and bequeinen. Nor is there any
belaitg or belong ; our modern belong is from the
ancient gelang. In like manner there is no such
Saxon verb as besecan; there is only gesecan^ from
which we have formed our beseek and beseech. So
tacn^ or tacen^ is a token, from which is getacnian^
to denote by a token or sign ; there is no betacnian :
yet we say to betoken. And there are probably
other examples of the same thing among the words
now in use having be for the commencing syllable
(of which the common dictionaries give us about a
couple of hundreds), although the generality of them
are only modern fabrications constructed in imitation
of one another, and upon no other principle than the
assumption that the syllable in question may be pre-
fixed to almost any verb whatever. Such are he-
praise^ bepowder^ bespatter^ bet/iump^ and many
more. Only between thirty and forty seem to be
traceable to Saxon verbs beginning with be.

The facts that have been mentioned sufficiently
explain 'the word beholden. It has nothing to do
with the modern behold, or the ancient behealdan
(which, like its modern representative, signified to
see or look on), but is another form, according to
the corruption which we have seen to take place
in so many other instances, of gehealden, the past
participle passive of healdan, to hold ; whence its
meaning, here and always, of held, bound, obliged.

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 311

It corresponds to the modern German gekalten^ of
the same signification, and is quite distinct from
beJialten^ the past participle passive of the verb
behalten^ which signifies kept, preserved.

One word, which repeatedly occurs in Shake-
speare, containing the prefix ge^ has been generally
misunderstood by his editors. What they all, I
believe without exception, print I wis, or Iiviss, as
if it were a verb with its nominative, is undoubtedly
one word, and that an adverb, signifying certainly,
probably. It ought to be written ywis, or ywiss, cor-
responding as it does exactly to the modern German
gewiss. It is true, indeed, that Sir Frederic Madden
in the Glossary to his edition of Syr Gawayne
(printed, for the Roxburgh Club, in 1839) expresses
a doubt whether it were " not regarded as a pronoun
and verb by the writers of the fifteenth century."
But this supposition Dr. Guest {Pkil. Proc. ii. 160)
regards as wholly gratuitous. He believes there is
not a single instance to be found in which iviss, or
wisse, has been used in the sense of to know, "till
our modern glossarists and editors chose to give it
that signification." Johnson in his Dictionary enters
wis as a verb, meaning to think, to imagine. So also
Nares in his Glossary. [The error is not corrected
in Halliwell and Wright's revised edition of Nares,
1859.] ^* ^s ^^ o"ly explanation which any of these
authorities give of the form in question. " The pre-
terite," adds Nares, "is wist. The present tense is
seldom found but in the first person ; the preterite
was common in all the persons." In a note on the
passage in The Merchant of Venice, ii. 9, " There
be fools, alive, I wis [as they all print it]. Silvered
o*er," Steevens writes ( Variorum edition, v. 71) : "/
wis^ I know. Wissen, German. So in King Henry

312 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

the Sixth : ' I wis your grandam had no worser
match.' Again, in the Comedy of King Cambyses :
' Yea, I wis, shall you, and that with all speed.'
Sidney, Ascham, and Waller use the word." The
line here quoted from Shakespeare is not in King
Henry VI. ^ but in Richard III.^ i. 3, and runs, " I
wis [ Twis] your grandam had a worser match." So
in the Taming" of the Shrew., i. i, " Twis., it is not
half way to her heart." Chaucer, though his adverb
is commonly ^w/5, has at^least in one instance sim-
ply wis : —

Nay, nay, quod she, God help me so, as wis
This is to much, and it were Goddes wil.

C. T. 11,781.

The syllable wis is, no doubt, the same element that
we have both in the German wissen and in our Eng-
lish guess. [Compare Marsh, Lectures., First Series,
P- 333? foot-note.]

394. We are blest that Rome is rid of him, —
The Second Folio has " We diXQ glad."

398. [ The evil that men do., etc. — Compare
Henry VIII.., iv. 2 : " Men's evil manners live in
brass ; their virtues we write in water."]

398. Here., under leave of Brutus., and the rest,
— Compare "By your pardon" of 357.

398. When that the poor have cried. — The
that in such cases as this is merely a summary or
compendious expression of what follows, which was
convenient, perhaps, in a ruder condition of the lan-
guage, as more distinctly marking out the clause to
be comprehended under the when. We still com-
monly use it with now., when it serves to discriminate
the conjunction from the adverb, although not with
other conjunctions which are never adverbs. Chau-
cer often introduces with a that even tlie clause that

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 313

follows a relative pronoun; as (C. T. 982), "The
Minotaur which that he slew in Crete ; " or ( C T.
988) "With Creon, which that was of Thebes
king."

398. Tou all did see, that on the Lupercal. —
See 17.

398. What cause withholds you, then, to mourn
for him ? — We should now say, " Withholds you
from mourning." We could not use withhold fol-
lowed by the infinitive.

401. Has he not, masters ? — The common read-
ing is "Has he, masters?" [So Collier, Dyce,
Hudson, and White.] The prosody clearly demands
the insertion of some monosyllable ; Capell accord-
ingly inserted my before masters; but the word
required by the sense and the connection evidently
is not. The correction, though conjectural, is there-
fore one which may be regarded as of nearly abso-
lute necessity and certainty. Masters was the
common term of address to a miscellaneous assembly
formerly. So again in 407 ; where, however, the
word is Maisters in both the First and Second
Folios, although not usually so elsewhere.

403. Some will dear abide it, — See 326.

407. And none so poor to do him reverence. — The
omission of one of two correlative words (such as the
as answering to the so here) is, when no ambiguity
is thereby occasioned, allowable in almost all cir-
cumstances. The manner in which the clause is
hung on to what precedes by the conjunction is such
as to preclude the necessity of a new copula or affir-
mative term. It is as if it were " with none so poor,"
etc. And and is logically (whatever it may be ety-
mologically) equivalent to with. So in 164, "Yes,

314 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

every man of them ; and no man here But honours
you."

407. Let but the commons hear this testament. —
The commonalty, the common people.

407. And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, —
A napkin (connected with napery^ from the French
nappe ^ a cloth, which, again, appears to be a cor-
ruption of the Latin mappa, of the same signification,
the original also of our map^ and of the mappe of
the French mappemonde^ that is mappa mundi)
is still the common name for a pocket handkerchief
in Scotland. It is also that commonly employed by
Shakespeare : see the Third Act of Othello^ and the
Fourth Act of As Tou Like It. — Compare 247.
[So in Hamlet., v. 2. Compare Luke xix. 20;
yohn xi. 44 ; xx. 7.]

411. Read the will., etc. — This and most of the
subsequent exclamations of the populace need not be
considered as verse.

412. / have overshot myself^ to tell you of it. —
That is, I have overshot myself (done more than ]
had intended) by telling you of it.

418. He comes down., etc. — This stage directioi.
is not in the older copies.

421. Stand from the hearse. — The hearse was
the frame or stand on which the body lay. It is the
French herse or herce., meaning a portcullis or har-
row; whence the English term seems to have been
applied to whatever was constructed of bars or beams
laid crosswise.

425. That day he overcame the Nervii. — These
words certainly ought not to be made a direct state-
ment, as they are by the punctuation of the Variorum
and of most other modern editions. [Collier, Dyce,

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 315

Hudson, and White have the same punctuation as
Craik.]

425. As rushing out of doors ^ to be resolved, —
See 338.

425. This was the most unkindest cut of all, —
See 336.

425. For Brutus^ as you know^ was Caesar's an-
gel. — I cannot think that the meaning can be, as
Boswell suggests, his guardian angel. It is much
more natural to understand it as being simply his
best beloved, his darling.

425. JFor when the noble CcBsar saw him stab. —
The him is here strongly emphatic, notwithstanding
its occupation of one of the places assigned by the com-
mon rule to short or unaccented syllables. See 435.

425. Even at the base of Pompefs statue. —
See 246.

425. Which all the while ran blood. — This is
almost in the words of North*s Plutarch : " Against
the base whereupon Pompey's image stood, which
ran all of a gore blood."

425. Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. —
That is, treason triumphed, — put forth, as it were,
its flowers, — shot up into vigorous efflorescence, —
over us.

425. The dint of pity. — Dint seems to be the
same word with dent^ or indentation, that is, the im-
pression made as by a tooth. It is commonly dent
in the old writers.

425. These are gracious drops. — Falling, the
thought seems to be, like the bountiful and refresh-
ing rain from heaven.

425. Marred., as you see., with traitors. — See 362.

431. We will be revenged., etc. — This speech is
printed in the First Folio as if it were verse, thus : —

3i6 Philological Commentary, [act hi

We will be revenged : revenge ;

About, — seek, — burn, — fire, — kill, — slay I

Let not a traitor live.

432. Stay^ countrymen, — To this speech Mr.
Collier's MS. annotator appends the stage direction,
" They are rushing out"

435. What private griefs they have. — See 129.
So again in 518 : " Speak your griefs softly;" and
" Enlarge your griefs."

435. That gave me public leave to speak of
him. — The Second Folio has " That give me."
Mr. Collier restores gave.

435. For I have neither wit., etc. — This is the
reading of the Second Folio. The First has writ^
which Malone actually adopts and defends ! Here is
a most animated and admirable enumeration of the
various powers, faculties, and arts by which a great
orator is enabled " to stir men's blood," beginning,
naturally, with that gift of imagination and invention
which is at once the highest of them all and the
fountain of most of the others ; and this editor, rather
than admit the probability of the misprint of a single
letter in a volume swarming with undeniable typo-
graphical errata, would make Antony substitute the
ridiculous remark that the first requisite for his pur-
pose, and that in which he was chiefly deficient, was
what he calls a writ., meaning a written speech ! Is
it possible that such a critic can have had the smallest
feeling of anything in Shakespeare above the level
of the merest prose? " Wit," he goes on to tell us,
" in our author's time had not its present significa-
tion, but meant understanding." The fact is, that
there are numerous passages in Shakespeare in which
the word has exactly its present signification. " Sir
Thurio," says Valentine to Silvia, in The Two Gen^

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 317

tlemen of Verona (11.4), "borrows his wit from
your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows,
kindly, in our company." " Sir," replies Thurio,
" if you spend word for word with me, I shall make
your wit bankrupt." So in Much Ado About Noth-
ings i. I : " There is a kind of merry war," says
Leonato, speaking of his niece Beatrice, " betwixt
Signior Benedick and her ; they never meet but there
is a skirmish of wit between them." Or, to go no
farther, how would Malone, or those who think with
him (if there be any), explain the conversation about
Benedick's wit in the First Scene of the Fifth Act of
the last-mentioned Play without taking the word as
there used in the sense which it now ordinarily bears?
In the passage before us, to be sure, its meaning is
more comprehensive, corresponding nearly to what
it still conveys in the expression " the wit of man."

We have the same natural conjunction of terms that
we have here in Measure for Measure^ v. i, where
the Duke addresses the discomfited Angelo : —

Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence,
That jet can do thee office ?

435. And bid them speak for me. — The the?n
here, emphatic and yet occupying a place in the
verse in which it is commonly laid down that only a
short or unaccented syllable can properly stand, is
in precisely the same predicament with the him of
" When the noble Caesar saw hifn stab," of 425.
See 536.

443. To every several Tuan, — Several is con-
nected with the verb sever^ which is from the Latin
separo^ through the French sevrer (though that lan-
guage has also separer^ as we too have separate),
" Every several man " is every man by himself or in
his individual capacity. " These properties of arts

3i8 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

or policy, and dissimulation or closeness," says Ba-
con, in his 6th Essay, " are, indeed, habits and fac-
ulties several, and to be distinguished." [See also
Numbers xxviii. 13, 29 ; 2 Kings xv. 5 ; Matthew
XXV. 15. So Milton : —

Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave.

Hymn on Nativ. 234.

Which he, to grace his tributary gods,
By course commits to several government.

Comus, 24.]

448. He hath left them you. — The emphasis is
Qt\ you,

449. And with the brands Jire the traitors^
houses. — This is the reading of the First Folio : the
Second has " all the traitors' houses," which may be
right ; for the prolongation o^ Jire into a dissyllable,
though it will give us the requisite number of sylla-
bles (which satisfies both Malone and Steevens),
will not make a very musical verse. Yet the harsh-
ness and dissonance produced by the irregular fall
of the accent, in addition to the diaeresis, in the case
of the word fire., may be thought to add to the force
and expressiveness of the line. Mr. Collier omits
the " all." [So Dyce, Hudson, and White.]

453. Take thou what course thou wilt I — How
now ^fellow? — It is impossible not to suspect that
Shakespeare must have written " Take now what
course thou wilt." The emphatic pronoun, or even a
pronoun at all, is unaccountable here. The abrupt-
ness, or unexpectedness, of the appearance of the
Servant is vividly expressed by the unusual con-
struction of this verse, in which we have an example
of the extreme license, or deviation from the normal
form, consisting in the reversal of the regular ac-

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 319

centuation in the last foot. Thus we have in Milton,
Paradise Lost^ x. 840, —

Beyond all past example and future ;
and again, xi. 683, —

To whom thus Michael : These are the product.

At \&2i^\.^ future^ which is common in his verse, has
everywhere else the accent on the first syllable.
Product is found nowhere else in Milton, and no-
where in Shakespeare. The stage directions before
and after this speech are in the original edition,
'-'-Exit Plebeians^'' and '-''Enter Servant.^''

457. He comes upon a wish, — Coincidently with,
as it were upon the back of, my wish for him. See
588.

458. / heard them say. — In all the old copies it
is " I heard him say ; " which Jennens explains
thus: ''''Him evidently refers to Octavius, who, as
he was coming into Rome, had seen Brutus and
Cassius riding like madmen through the gates, and
had related the same in the presence of the servant."
The conjectural emendation oithejn^ however, which
appears to have been first proposed by Capell, had
been long generally received, and is confirmed by
the authority of Mr. Collier's manuscript annotator.
[White calls it " a needless change." Dyce and
Hudson also read " him."]

458. Are rid like madmen. — See 373.

459. Belike they had some notice of the people. —
This now obsolete word belike (probably) is com-
monly held to be a compound of by and like. But
it may perhajDS be rather the ancient gelice (in like'
manner), with a slight change of meaning. See
389. — " Some notice of the people " is some notice
respecting the people.

320 Philological Commentary, [act hi.

Scene III. — 460. And things unlikely charge
my fantasy. — \n?>\.Q2id. oi unlikely the old text has
unluckily. Unlikely^ which appears for the first
time in Mr. Collier's one volume edition, is the
restoration of his MS. annotator. It at once, and
in the most satisfactory manner, turns nonsense into
sense. [Dyce, Hudson, Staunton, and White give
" unlucky," which is quite as satisfactory.]

460. I have no will., etc. — Very well illustrated
by Steevens in a quotation from The Merchant of
Venice., ii. 5, where Shy lock says, —

I have no mind of feasting forth to-night :
But I will go.

The only stage direction here in the original
edition is before ,this speech ; ^'' Enter Cinna the
Poet., and after him the Plebeians."

468. Ay^ and truly., you were best. — This is
strictly equivalent to " You would be best," and
might perhaps be more easily resolved than the more
common idiom, " You had best." But all languages
have phraseologies coming under the same head with
this, which are not to be explained upon strictly
logical principles. Witness the various applications
of the Greek s^sj, the French il y a., etc. In the
following sentence from As Tou Like It., i. i, we
have both the idioms that have been referred to:
" I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger,
and thou wert best look to it." [See on 54.]

469. Wisely., I say., I am a bachelor. — Cinna's
meaning evidently is, Wisely I am a bachelor. But
that is not conveyed by the way in which the passage
has hitherto been always pointed — " Wisely I say."

470. Tou* II bear me a bang for that. — You'll get
a bang for that (from some one). The me goes for
nothing. See 89 and 205.

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 321

482. Cin. I am not^ etc. — This speech was care-
lessly omitted in the generality of the modern texts,
including that of the standard edition of Malone and
Boswell, till restored by Mr. Knight. It is given,
however, in Jennens's collation (1774), and he does
not note its omission by any preceding editor.

483. Turn him going, — Turn him off ; let him
go. The expression occurs also in As Ton Like It,
iii. I : " Do this expediently, and turn him going."
So in Sir Thomas Urquhart's translation oi Rabelais,
B. i. ch. 35 : " Avoid hence, and get thee going." —
This story of Cinna is told by Plutarch in his Life
of Caesar. He says, the people, falling upon him in
their rage, slew him outright in the market-place.

The stage direction with which the Act termi-
nates in the original edition is, ''''Exeunt all the Ple-
beians,^*

ACT rv.

Scene I. The same. A Room in Antony's
House. — The original heading is only, ''''Enter
Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus.^^ The Same,
meaning at Rome, was supplied by Rowe. It is
evident (especially from 491 and 492) that the scene
is placed at Rome, although in point of fact the
triumvirs held their meeting on a small island in the
river Rhenus (now the Reno) near Bononia (^Bo-
logna), where, Plutarch says, they remained three
days together.

485. These many. — An archaic form for so many,
this number.

485. Their names are pricked. — See 35 1 .

489. Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. —
This is a mistake. The person meant is Lucius
21

322 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

Caesar, who was Mark Antony's uncle, the brother
of his mother.

490. Look^ with a spot I damn him. — Note him
as condemned, by a mark or stigma (called pricking
his name in 485, and pricking him down in 488, and
pricking him in 494).

490. Fetch the will hither^ and we shall de-
tennine. — This is the reading of all the old copies,
and is properly retained by Mr. Knight. In the
Variorum edition we have (and without warning)
will substituted for shall.

493. This is a slight unmeritahle man, — So
afterwards in 534, " Away, slight man ! " said by
Brutus, in momentary anger, to Cassius. See 521. —
Unmeritable should mean incapable of deserving.

493. Meet to be sent on errands, — Errand is a
Saxon word, cerend (perhaps from cer^ or ar^ before,
whence also ere and early). It has no connection
with errant^ wandering (from the Latin erro^ whence
also err^ and error., and erroneous),

495. To groan and sweat under the business, —
Business is commonly only a dissyllable with Shake-
speare ; and it may be no more here upon the prin-
ciple explained in the note on " She dreamt to-night
she saw my statue " in 246. There are a good many
more instances of lines concluding with business., in
which either it is a trisyllable (although commonly
only a dissyllable in the middle of a line) or the verse
must be regarded as a hemistich, or truncated verse,
of nine syllables.

495. Either led or driven., etc. — The three last
Folios, and also Rowe, have '•'• frint the way." The
we of this line, and the our and the we of the next,
are all emphatic. There is the common irregularity
of a single short superfluous syllable (the er oi either).

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 323

495. And graze on commons. — In is the read-
ing of all the old copies. [So Dyce, Hudson, and
White.] On is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS.
annotator.

497. Store of provender. — Provender., which
Johnson explains to mean " dry food for brutes," and
which also appears in the forms provand and pro-
vant^ is immediately from the French provende,
having the same signification, and derived probably
from the Latin providere.

497. And., i7i some taste. — It might seem at first
that this phrase, as it may be said to be equivalent
in effect to our common " in some sense," so is only
another wording of the same conception or figure,
what is called a sense in the one form being called a
taste in the other. But, although taste is reckoned
one of the senses, this would certainly be a wrong
explanation. The expression " in some sense " has
nothing to do with the powers of sensation or per-
ception ; sense here is signification, meaning, import.
Neither does taste stand for the sense of taste in the
other expression. The taste which is here referred
to is a taste in contradistinction to a more full enjoy-
ment or participation, a taste merely. " In some
taste " is another way of saying, not " in some sense,"
but " in some measure, or degree."

497. On objects., arts., and hnitations^ etc. — This
passage, as it stands in the Folios, with the sentence
terminating at " imitations," has much perplexed the
commentators ; and, indeed, may be said to have
proved quite inexplicable, till a comma was substi-
tuted for the full point by Mr. Knight, which slight
change makes everything plain and easy. Antony's
assertion is, that Lepidus feeds, not on objects, arts,
and imitations generally, but on such of them as

324 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

are out of use and staled (or worn out : see 50)
by other people, which, notwithstanding, begin his
fashion (or with which his following the fashion
begins.) [Theobald proposed " On abject orts and
imitations," which Dyce adopts and defends in a long
note. White, in Shakes fear e^ s Scholar^ suggests
" abject arts and imitations," but in his edition of the
poet, wisely returns to the reading of the Folio as
amended by Knight. Staunton has " abjects, orts,
and imitations," and defines abjects as " things thrown
away as worthless." The word occurs with that
meaning in old English (see Bible Word-Book^ s. v.),
but much more commonly it means a worthless,
despicable person — the only sense recognized by
Nares — as in Richard III. i. i: "We are the
queen's abjects, and must obey." Compare Psalms
XXXV. 15.]

497. Listen great things. — Listen has now
ceased to be used as an active verb.

497. \_Are levying powers. — Power and powers^
in the »5ense of army, forces, are very common in old
writers : —

So soon as we had gathered us a power
We dallied not. Heywood, 2 Ed. IV. ii. 2.

Lord Lovel was at hand with a great power of men. —

Bacon, Hen. VII. p. 17.

See also 2 Chron. xxxii. 9. For examples in Shake-
speare see Mrs. Clarke. In the present play, com-
pare 597, dd^., and 727. Puissance is used in the
same sense in old English. See an example in note
on 303.]

497. Our best friends made^ and our best means
stretched out. — This is the reading of the Second
Folio. It seems to me, I confess, to be sufficiently
in Shakespeare's manner. The First Folio has

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 325

" Our best Friends made, our meanes stretcht," —
which, at any rate, it is quite impossible to believe to
be what he wrote. [Dyce and White follow the First
Folio, but both consider the line a mutilated one.]

497. And let us presently go sit in counsel^ etc. —
The more ordinary phraseology would be " Let us
sit in consultation how," or " Let us consult how."
The word in the First Folio is " Councell," and
most, if not all, modern editions have " sit in coun-
cil." But see 262.

498. And bayed about with many enemies, — See
348 (for bayed) ^ and 362 (for with).

498. Millions 0/ mischiefs. — This is the reading
of all the old editions. Mr. Knight has " mischief,"
no doubt by an error of the press. In the Winter's
Tale., iv. 2, however, we have, in a speech of the
Clown, " A million of beating may come to a great
matter."

Scene II. The original heading here is ^''Drum.
Enter Brutus., Lucillius., and the Army. Titinius
and Pindarus 7neete them.'' The modern editors
after the name of Lucilius introduce that of Lucius,
See the note on 520.

501. What now., Lucilius? is Cassius near? —
Here the ius is dissyllabic in Lucilius and monosyl-
labic in Cassius.

502. To do you salutation. — Another of the old
applications of do which we have now lost. See 147.
The stage direction about the Letter is modern.

503. He greets ?ne well. — The meaning seems
to be. He salutes me in a friendly manner. Yet
this can hardly be regarded as a legitimate employ-
ment of well.

503. In his own change^ etc. — The meaning

326 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

seems to be, either through a change that has taken
place in his own feelings and conduct, or through
the misconduct of his officers.

503. Some worthy cause. — Some reasonable or
sufficient cause, some cause of worth, value, or
power to justify the wish. Our modern worth is
the Saxon weorth^ wurth^ or wyrth^ connected with
which are weorscipe^ worship, and weorthian^ to
hold in esteem or honor. But there may also per-
haps be a connection with weorthan., or wurthan^
to become, or to be, the same word with the modern
German werden^ and still in a single fragment re-
maining in use among ourselves in the phrase woe
worthy that is, woe be. [See Ezekiel xxx. 2.] If
this be so, either what we call worth is that which
anything emphatically is^ or, when we say that a
thing 25, we are only saying that it is worth in a
broad or vague sense, according to a common man-
ner of forming a term of general out of one of par-
ticular import.

505. He is not doubted. — A word., etc. — Brutus
here, it will be observed, makes two speeches ; first
he addresses himself to Pindarus, then to Lucilius.
Even if the prosody did not admonish us to the same
effect, it would, in these circumstances, be better to
print the passage as I have given it, with two hemi-
stichs or broken lines.

505. Let 7ne be resolved. — See 338.

506. But not with such familiar instances. —
The word still in use that most nearly expresses this
obsolete sense of instances is, perhaps, assiduities.
As instance should mean standing upon, so assiduity
should mean sitting upon. Assiduitas is used by
Cicero ; instantia^ I believe, is not found in the best
age of the Latin tongue. The English word is em-

sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 327

ployed by Shakespeare in other senses besides this
that are now obsolete. " To comfort you the more,"
says the Earl of Warwick to the King, in 2 Henry

IV. in. I,—

I have received
A certain instance that Glendower is dead, —

that is, a certain assurance. Again, in Richard
III. iii. 2, —

Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance^ —

that is, apparently, without any fact to support or
justify them. Again, in Hamlet^ iii. 2, we have —

The instances that second marriage move

Are base respects of thrift, but none of love, —

that is, the inducements, as we should now say, are
base considerations of thrift, or pecuniary advantage.
We now use instance in something like its proper
sense only in the phrase " at the instance of," and'
even there the notion of pressure or urgency is nearly
lost ; the word is understood as meaning little, if
anything, more than merely so much of application,
request, or suggestion as the mere mention of what
is wanted might carry with it. In another phrase
in which it has come to be used, " in the first in-
stance," it is not very obvious what its meaning really
is, or how, at least, it has got the meaning which it
appears to have. Do we, or can we, say " in the
second, or third, instance"? By instance^ as com-
monly used, for a particular fact, we ought to under-
stand a fact bearing upon the matter in hand ; and
this seems to be still always kept in mind in the
familiar expression " for instance."

Shakespeare's use of the word may be further
ilhistrated by the following passages; "They will
scarcely believe this without trial : offer tliem in-

328 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

stances ; which shall bear no less likelihood than to
see me at her chamber window ; hear me call Mar-
garet, Hero ; hear Margaret term me Claudio ; " etc.
{Much Ado About Nothings ii. 2) ; —

Instance ! O instance ! strong as Pluto's gates ;
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven :
Instance ! O iastance ! strong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are slipped, dissolved, and loosed.

Troil. and Cress, v. 2.

507. Like horses hot at hand. — That is, appar-
ently, when held by the hand, or led. [Compare
Henry VIII. ^ v. 3 (v. 3 in Globe Ed.) : —

those that tame wild horses

Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle,

But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur 'em,

Till they obey the manage.]

Or rather, perhaps, when acted upon only "by the
rein. So in Harington's Ariosto^ vii. 67, Melyssa
says that she will try to make Rogero's griffith horse
" gentle to the spur and hand." But has not " at
hand " always meant, as it always does now, only
near or hard by ? That meaning will not do here.
The commentators afford us, no light or help. Per-
haps Shakespeare wrote " in hand." The two
expressions i7z hand and at hand are commonly
distinguished in the Plays as they are in our present
usage ; and we also have on hand and at the hands
of in the modern senses, as well as to bear in hand
("to keep in expectation, to amuse with false pre-
tences " — Nares) and at any hand (that is, in any
case), which are now obsolete. In The Comedy of
Errors^ ii. i, at hand., used by his mistress Adriana
in the common sense, furnishes matter for the word-
catching wit of Dromio of Ephesus after he has been
beaten, as he thinks, by his master: ^^Adr, Say,

sc. II.] Julius C-^sar. 329

is your tardy master now at hand ? Dro. JB, Nay,
he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can
witness." In King yohn^ v. 2, however, we have
" like a lion fostered up at hand," that is, as we
should now say, by hand. In another similar
phrase, we may remark, at has now taken the place
of the in or into of a former age. We now say To
march at the head of, and also To place at the head
of, and we use in the head and into the head in
quite other senses ; but here is the way in which
Clarendon expresses himself: "They said . . . that
there should be an army of thirty thousand men im-
mediately transported into England with the Prince
of Wales in the head of them " {Hist.^ Book x.) ;
" The King was only expected to be nearer England,
how disguised soever, that he might quickly put
himself into the head of the army, that would be
ready to receive him " (/</., Book xiv.) ; " These
cashiered officers . . . found so much encourage-
ment, that, at a time appointed, they put themselves
into the heads of their regiments, and marched with
them into the field " {Id., Book xvi.) ; " That Lord
[Fairfax] had called together some of his old dis-
banded officers and soldiers, and many principal
men of the country, and marched in the head of
them into York " {Ibid.) ; " Upon that very day
they [the Parliament] received a petition, which
they had fomented, presented ... by a man noto-
rious in those times, . . . Praise- God Barebone,
in the head of a crowd of sectaries " {Ibid.) ; " He
[the Chancellor] informed him [Admiral Montague]
of Sir George Booth's being possessed of Chester,
and in tlie head of an army " {Ibid.).

507. They fall their crests. — This use ofj^//,
as an active verb, is not common in Shakespeare ;

330 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

but it may be found in writers of considerably later
date.

508. Instead of the stage direction ''''March ivith-
in " at the end of this speech, the original text has
''''Low MarcJi within " in the middle of 507. And
instead of '-''Enter Cassius and Soldiers^' it is there
''''Enter Cassius and his powers ^

512, 513, 514. — The Within prefixed to these
three speeches is the insertion of the modern editors.
In the First Folio the three repetitions of the " Stand"
are on so many distinct lines, but all as if they formed
part of the speech of Brutus. Mr. Collier has at
514 the stage direction, '''' One after the other^ and
fainter y

518. Cassius^ be content. — That is, be continent ;
contain, or restrain, yourself. [The phrase occurs
also in the Bible {^Judges xix. 6; 2 Kings v. 23,
vi. 3 ; Job vi. 28) ; but the meaning there is " be
pleased " or " let it please thee," as the Hebrew is
translated in 2 Sam, vii. 29. See Bible Word-
Book^ s. V.J

518. Speak your griefs softly. — See 129 and

435-

518. Nothing but love from us. — From each of
us to the other.

518. Enlarge your griefs. — State them with all
fulness of eloquent exposition ; as we still say En-
large upon. See 129 and 435. Clarendon uses the
verb to ejilarge differently both from Shakespeare
and from the modern language ; thus : '* As soon
as his lordship had finished his oration, which was
received with marvellous acclamations, Mr. Pym
enlarged himself, in a speech then printed, upon the
several parts of the King's answer" {Hist.^ Book
vi.).

sc. II.] Julius C-^sar. 331

520. Lucius^ do you the like; etc. — The original

text is, —

Lucillius, do you the like, and let no man

Come to our tent, till we have done our Conference.

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our doore.

To cure the prosody in the first line, Steevens and
other modern editors strike out the you. It is
strange that no one should have been struck with
the absurdity of such an association as Lucius and
Titinius for the guarding of the door — an officer
of rank and a servant boy — the boy, too, being
named first. The function of Lucius was to carry
messages. As Cassius sends his servant Pindarus
with a message to his division of the force, Brutus
sends his servant Lucius with a similar message to
his division. Nothing can be clearer than that Lu-
cilius in the first line is a misprint for Lucius^ and
Lucius in the third a misprint for Lucilius. Or
the error may have been in the copy ; and the inser-
tion of the Let was probably an attempt of the
printer, or editor, to save the prosody of that line,
as the omission of the you is of the modern editors
to save that of the other. The present restoration
sets everything to rights. [White adopts Craik's
emendation, but Collier and Dyce take no notice of
it.] At the close of the conference we have Brutus,
in 579, again addressing himself to Lucilius and
Titinius, who had evidently kept together all the
time it lasted. Lucius (who in the original text is
commonly called the Boy) and Titinius are nowhere
mentioned together. In the heading of Scene III.,
indeed, the modern editors have again ''''Lucius and
Titinius at some distance ; " but this is their own
manufacture. All that we have in the old copies is,
^^Manet Brutus and Cassius" See also 570.

332 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

Scene III. [Plutarch in his Life of Marcus
Brutus (North's translation, 1579, p. 1071), says,-
" Therefore, before they fell in hand with any other
matter, they went into a little chamber together, and
bad every man avoyde, and did shut the dores to
them. Then they beganne to powre out their com-
plaints, one to the other, and grew hot and lowde,
earnestly accusing one another, and at length fell
both a weeping. Their friends, that were without
the chamber, hearing them lowd within and angry
betwene them selves, they were both amased, and
affrayd also, lest it would grow to further matter."]

521. [^Tou have condemned and noted. — Com-
pare North's Plutarch: "The next day after,
Brutus, upon complaint of the Sardians, did con-
demn and note Lucius Pella for a defamed person,"
etc.]

521. Wherein Tny letters . . . were slighted off,
— The printer of the First Folio, evidently mis-
understanding the passage, gives us, —

Wherein my Letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man was slighted off.

The Second Folio has, —

Wherein my Letter, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, was slighted oflf.

[White adopts this reading.] At a date consider-
ably later than Shakespeare we have still slighted
over (for to treat or perform carelessly). It is used
by Dryden in the end of the seventeenth century, as
it had been by Bacon in the beginning. The con-
nection of the various modifications of the term
slight is sufficiently obvious. They all involve the
notion of quickly and easily escaping or being de-
spatched and got rid of.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 333

523. That every nice offence^ etc. — Nice is the
Saxon nesc or hnesc^ tender, soft, gentle. [For a
different etymology see the revised Webster. For
nice in the sense of " trivial," compare " How nice
the quarrel vs'^as," Romeo and yuliet^ iii. i, and
" The letter vs^as not nice," same Play, v. 2. Mrs.
Clarke will furnish other examples.] In modern
English the word always implies smallness or petti-
ness, though not always in a disparaging sense, but
rather most usually in the contrary. So a pet^
literally something small, is the common name for
anything that is loved and cherished. — For '''-his
comment" see 54.

524. Let me tell you, Cassius, etc. — Here we
have a line with the first syllable wanting, which
may be regarded as the converse of those wanting
only the last syllable noticed in the note on 246.
So, lower down, in 540, we have another speech of
Brutus commencing, with like abruptness, with a
line which wants the two first syllables: "You say
you are a better soldier." — For the true nature of
the hemistich see the note on " Made in her concave
shores" in 15.

524. Are much condemned to have an itching
palm. — To condemn to is now used only in the
sense of sentencing to the endurance of. In the
present passage the to introduces the cause, not the
consequence, of the condemnation. " You are con-
demned" is used as a stronger expression for you
are said, you are alleged, you are charged. An
itching palm is a covetous palm ; as we say an itch
for praise, an itch for scribbling, etc., or as in the
translation of the Bible we read, in 2 Tim. iv. 3, of
the people " having itching ears " (being exactly
after the original, xvifjdo/xsvoi rr^v axo^jv).

334 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

524. To sell and mart your offices, — To make
merchandise, or matter of bargain and sale, of your
appointments and commissions. Mart is held to be
a contraction of market^ which is connected with the
Latin tnerx and mercor,^ and so with merchant-^
mercantile, commerce, etc.

524. To undeservers. — We have lost both this
substantive and the verb to disserve (to do an injury
to), which Clarendon uses; though we still retain
the adjective undeserving.

528, 529. And hay the moon. . . . Brutus, bay
not me. — In the First Folio we have " bay the
moon," and " bait not me ; " in all the others, " bait
the moon " and " bait not me." Theobald sug-
gested '-''bay the moon" and ''''hay not me;" and
this accords with the reading given by Mr. Collier's
MS. annotator, who in 528 restores in the Second
Folio the hay of the First, and in 529 corrects the
bait of all the Folios into bay. [Dyce and White
follow Theobald, but Hudson prefers the reading of
the First Folio.] To bay the moon is to bark at the
moon ; and bay not me would, of course, be equiva-
lent to bark not, like an infuriated dog, at me. See
348. To bait, again, from the French battre, might
be understood to mean to attack with violence. So
in Macbeth, v. 7, we have " to be baited with the
rabble's curse." It is possible that there may have
been some degree of confusion in the minds of our
ancestors between bait and hay, and that both words,
imperfectly conceived in their import and origin,
were apt to call up a more or less distinct notion of
encompassing or closing in. Perhaps something of
this is what runs in Cassius's head when he subjoins,
" You forget yourself. To hedge me in " — although
Johnson interprets these words as meaning " to limit

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 335

my authority by your direction or censure." The
present passage may be compared with one in A
Winter's Tale^ ii. 3 : —

Who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me.

A third Anglicized form of battre^ in addition to
beat and bait^ is probably bate^ explained by Nares
as " a term in falconry ; to flutter the wings as pre-
paring for flight, particularly at the sight of prey."
ThusPetruchio, in The Taming of the Shrew^ iv. i,
speaking of his wife, after observing that his " falcon
now is sharp, and passing empty" (that is, very
empty, or hungry), goes on to say that he has
another way to man his haggard (that is, apparently,
to reduce his wild hawk under subjection to man) : —

That is, to watch her, as we watch those kites
That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient.

Nares quotes the following passage from a letter of
Bacon's as beautifully exemplifying the true meaning
of the word : " Wherein \yiz. in matters of business]
I would to God that I were hooded, that I saw less ;
or that I could perform more : for now I am like a
hawk that bates^ when I see occasion of service ; but
cannot fly, because I am tied to another's fist." The
letter, which was first printed by Rawley in the First
Part of the Resuscitatio (1657), ^^ without date, and
is merely entitled "A Letter to Queen Elizabeth,
upon the sending of a New- Year's Gift."

529. / am a soldier^ /. — It is impossible to be
quite certain whether the second / here be the pro-
noun or the adverb which we now write Ay, See
the note on " I, as yEneas," in 54.

529. To make conditions. — To arrange the terms
on which offices should be conferred.

33^ Philological Commentary, [act iv.

530. Go to. — Johnson, in his Dictionary, ex-
plains this expression as equivalent to " Come, come,
take the right course " (meaning, contemptuously or
sarcastically). He adds, that, besides being thus
used as " a scornful exhortation," it is also some-
times " a phrase of exhortation or encouragement ; "
as in Gen. xi. 4, where the people, after the flood,
are represented as saying, " Go to, let us build us a
city and a tower," etc. But it must be understood
to be used, again, in the scornful sense three verses
lower down, where the Lord is made to say, " Go
to, let us go down, and there confound their lan-
guage," etc.

533. Have mind upon your health. — Mind is
here remembrance, and health is welfare, or safety,
generally ; senses which are both now obsolete.

534. Away^ slight inan I — See 493 and 521.
536. Hear me^for I will speak. — The emphasis

is not to be denied to the will here, although it
stands in the place commonly stated to require an
unaccented syllable. See 425, 435, and 612.

538. Must I observe you ? — Pay you observance,
or reverential attention. [Compare 2 Henry IV.
iv. 2 : " For he is gracious, if he be observed," and
" I shall observe him with all care and love." The
word is used in the same sense in Mark vi. 20.]

540. Tou say you are a better soldier. — See 524.

540. I shall be glad to learn of abler men. — The
old reading is " noble men ; " abler is the correction
of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. Even if this were a
mere conjecture, its claim to be accepted would be
nearly irresistible. Noble here is altogether inap-
propriate. [Dyce, Hudson, Staunton, and White
retain "noble," which is by no means so bad as
Craik makes it.] Cassius, as Mr. Collier remarks,

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 337

had said nothing about " noble men," whereas abler
is the very expression that he had used (in 529) : —

I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

550* ^ou have done that you should be sorry
for. — The emphasis, of course, is on should. The
common meaning of shall^ as used by Cassius, is
turned, in Brutus's quick and unsparing replication,
into the secondary meaning oi should (ought to be).
See 181.

550. Which I respect not. — Which I heed not.
Here respect has rather less force of meaning than it
has now acquired ; whereas observe in 538 has more
than it now conveys. Respect in Shakespeare means
commonly no more than what we now call regard
or view. Thus, in The Midsummer Nighfs Dream,
i. I, Lysander says of his aunt, " She respects me as
her only son;" and, in ii. i, Helena says to De-
metrius, " You, in my respect, are all the world."
So, in The Merchant of Venice, v. i, when Portia,
on hearing the music from the lighted house as she
approaches Belmont at night in company with Ne-
rissa, says, —

Nothing is good, I see, without respect;
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day, —

she means merely that nothing is good without ref-
erence to circumstances, or that it is only when it is
in accordance with the place and the time that any
good thing can be really or fully enjoyed. As she
immediately subjoins, —

How many things by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection I

So afterwards Nerissa to Gratiano : " You should
22

338 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

have been respective^ and have kept it " (the ring) —
that is, you should have been mindful (of your
promise or oath).

550. And drop my blood, — Expend my blood in
drops.

550. Than to wring. — Although had rather
(see 54 and ^^^^ being regarded as of the nature of
an auxiliary verb, does not in modern English take
a to with the verb that follows it (see i), it does so
here in virtue of being equivalent in sense to would
or should prefer.

550. By any indirection. — Indirectness, as we
should now say.

550. To lock such rascal counters. — As to lock.
See 407. Rascal means despicable. It is a Saxon
word, properly signifying a lean, worthless deer.

550. Be ready ^ gods^ etc. — I cannot think that
Mr. Collier has improved this passage by removing
the comma which we find in the old copies at the
end of the first line, and so connecting the words
*' with all your thunderbolts," not with " Be ready,"
but with " Dash him to pieces." [On the whole,
Collier's reading, which is adopted by White, seems
the preferable one.]

550. Dash him to pieces. — This is probably to be
understood as the infinitive (governed by the pre-
ceding verb ^6 ready) with the customary to omitted.
See I.

553» Brutus hath rived my heart. — See 107.

558. A flatterer's would not^ though they do
appear. — This is the reading of all the old copies.
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator gives " did appear."
[But Collier does not adopt the emendation.]

559. Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius. — In
this line and the next we have Cassius used first as

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 339

a trisyllable and immediately after as a dissyllable.
[Compare 501.]

559' Por Cassius is aweary of the world. —
Whatever may be its origin or proper meaning,
many words were in the habit of occasionally taking
« as a prefix in the earliest period of the language.
Thence we have our modern English arise., arouse.,
abide^ await., awake.; aweary., etc. Some of the
words which are thus lengthened, however, do not
appear to have existed in the Saxon ; while, on the
other hand, many ancient forms of this kind are now
lost. More or less of additional expressiveness seems
usually to be given by this prefix, in the case at
least of such words as can be said to have in them
anything of an emotional character. Shakespeare
has used the present word in another of his most
pathetic lines — Macbeth's "I 'gin to be aweary of
the sun." The a here is the same element that we
have in the " Tom's a-cold'' of Lear., iii. 4, and iv.
I, and also with the an that we have in the " When
I was an^hungered'' of the New Testament, and
Shakespeare's " They said they were an-hungry "
{Co7'iol. i. 4). [See 65.]

559. [ Checked like a bondman. — Compare 2
Henry IV. i. 2 : "I have checked him for it, and
the young lion repents." So in Udall's Erasmus^
Mark XV. 32 : " And they that were crucified with
hym, checked hym also." Check is used in this
sense of rebuke, reprove, in the heading of chap. v.
of Exodus.'\

559. Conned by rote. — The Saxon connan., or
cunnan., signifying to know, and also to be able, —
its probable modification cunnian., to inquire, — and
cennan., to beget or bring forth, appear to have all
come to be confounded in the breaking up of the old

340 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

form of the language, and then to have given rise to
our modern ken^ and can^ and con^ and cunnings
with meanings not at all corresponding to those of
the terms with which they severally stand in phonetic
connection. Can is now used only as an auxiliary
verb with the sense of to be able, though formerly it
was sometimes employed with the same sense as a
common verb. "In evil," says Bacon, in his nth
Essay (Of Great Place), "the best condition is not
to will ; the second, not to can." Ken is still in use
both as a verb and as a substantive. The verb Nares
interprets as meaning to see, the substantive as mean-
ing sight ; and he adds, " These words, though not
current in common usage, have been so preserved in
poetic language that they cannot properly be called
obsolete. Instances are numerous in writers of very
modern date. ... In Scotland these words are still
in full currency." But the meaning of to ken in the
Scottish dialect is not to see, but to know. And
formerly it had also in English the one meaning as
well as the other, as may be seen both in Spenser
and in Shakespeare. The case is similar to that of
the Greek s'/^w (o/5a) and g<5s'w. Cunnings again, in-
stead of being the wisdom resulting from investiga-
tion and experience, or the skill acquired by practice,
as in the earlier states of the language, has now come
to be understood as involving always at least some-
thing concealed and mysterious, if not something of
absolute deceit or falsehood.

As for con its common meaning seems to be, not
to know, but to get by heart, that is, to acquire a
knowledge of in the most complete manner possible.
And to con by rote is to commit to memoiy by an
operation of mind similar to the turning of a wheel

sc. III.] Julius Cjesar. 341

(rota)^ or by frequent repetition. Rote is the same
word with routine.

It is more difficult to explain the expression to con
thanks^ which is of frequent occurrence in our old
writers, and is several times used by Shakespeare.
Nares explains it as meaning to study expressions
of gratitude. But it really seems, in most instances
at least, to signify no more than to give or return
thanks. See a note on Gammer Gurton^s Needle
in Collier's edition of Dodsley's Old Plays., ii. 30.
Con in the present passage may perhaps mean to
utter or repeat ; such a sense might come not unnat-
urally out of the common use of the word in the
sense of to get by heart. It is remarkable that in
German also they say Dank wissen (literally to
know thanks) for to give thanks. [ Con thanks is
precisely like the Latin scire gratias and the French
savoir gre. There is no difficulty in the case.]

Our common know is not from any of the Saxon
verbs above enumerated, but is the modernized form
of cnawan^ which may or may not be related to all
or to some of them.

Corresponding to cennan and connan, it may
finally be added, we have the modern German ken-
nen^ to know, and konnen., to be able or to know.
But, whatever may be the case with the German
Konig (a king), it is impossible to admit that our
English king., the representative of the Saxon cyng^
cyncg.) or cyning., can have anything to do with
either cennan or connan. It is of quite another
family, that of which the head is cyn., nation, off-
spring, whence our present kin., and kindred., and
kind (both the substantive and the adjective).

559. Dearer than Plutus' mine. — Bear must
here be understood, not in the derived sense of 3^-

342 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

loved ^ but in its literal sense of precious or of value.
See 348. It is ''''Pluto's mine " in all the Folios, and
also in Rowe ; nor does it appear that the mistake is
corrected by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, although
it is, of course, in Mr. Collier's regulated text.

559. If that thou beest a Roman. — Our modern
substantive verb, as it is called, is made up of frag-
ments of several verbs, of which, at the least, a?n^
ivas^ and be are distinguishable, even if we hold is^
as well as are and art^ to belong to the same root
with am (upon this point see Latham's £^?zg. Lang.
5th edit. 612). In the Saxon we have eom (some-
times am)^ waes (with ivaere and waeron^ and
wesan^ and gewesen^. beo (with bist or byst^ bebdh^
beon^ etc.), eart (or eardh)^ is {or ys) ; and also 5/,
seo^ sig^ synd, and syndon (related to the Latin sum^
sunt^ sim^ sis, etc.), of which forms there is no trace
in our existing English. On the other hand, there
is no representative in the written Saxon of our mod-
ern plural are. Beest., which we have here, is not
to be confounded with the subjunctive be; it is bist.,
byst^ the 2d pers. sing. pres. indie, of beon, to be.
It is now obsolete, but is also used by Milton in a
famous passage : " If thou beest he ; but oh how
fallen ! how changed," etc. P. L. i. 84.

560. Dishonor shall be humour, — See 205. —
Any indignity you offer shall be regarded as a mere
caprice of the moment. Humour here probably
means nearly the same thing as in Cassius's " that
rash humour which my mother gave me " in 567.
The word had scarcely acquired in Shakespeare's
age the sense in which it is now commonly used as
a name for a certain mental faculty or quality;
though its companion wit had already, as we have
seen, come to be so employed. See 435. But what

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 343

if the true reading should be " dishonor shall be
honor ?^' [White "strongly suspects" that Shake-
speare wrote " honor."]

560. O Cassius^ you are yoked 'with a lavih. —
Pope prints, on conjecture, *' with a man;" and " a
lamb^' at any rate, can hardly be right.

561. Blood ill-tempered. — We have now lost the
power of characterizing the blood as ill-te7npered
(except in imitation of the antique), although we
might perhaps speak of it as ill-attempered. The
epithet ill-tempered^ now only applied to the sentient
individual, and with reference rather to the actual
habit of the mind or nature than to that of which it
is supposed to be the result, was formerly employed,
in accordance with its proper etymological import,
to characterize anything the various ingredients of
which were not so mixed as duly to qualify each
other.

567. Have not you love enough to bear with me ?
— This is the reading of all the old copies, and is
that adopted by Mr. Knight. [So Dyce and White.]
Both the Variorum text, which is generally followed,
and also Mr. Collier in his regulated text, give us
" Have you not."

^(i^. Tes, Cassius; and fro7ti hejiceforth. — All
the irregularity that we have in this line is the slight
and common one of a superfluous short syllable (the
ius of Cassius). Steevens, in his dislike to even this
much of freedom of versification, and his precise
grammatical spirit, would strike out the fro7n^ as
redundant in respect both of the sense and of the
measure.

568. He'll think your mother chides. — To chide
is the Saxon cidan^ to strive, to contend. It is now
scarcely in use except as an active verb with the sense

344 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

of to reprove with sharpness ; but it was formerly
used also absolutely or intransitively, as here, for to
employ chiding or angry expressions. Shakespeare
has both to chide and to chide at.

Instead of the stage direction '-'•JVoise ivithin^^ the
original edition has ^'' Enter a Poet^

569. Poet [within]. — The within is inserted here
and before the next two speeches by the modern
editors. — The present incident (as well as the hint
of the preceding great scene) is taken from Plutarch's
Life of Brutus. The intruder, however, is not a Poet
in Plutarch, but one Marcus Favonius, who affected
to be a follower of Cato, and to pass for a Cynic
philosopher. [Plutarch adds {North's trans. ^ ^579i
p. 1071, as quoted by Collier), " Cassius fel a
laughing at him ; but Brutus thrust him out of the
chamber, and called him dogge and counterfeate
cynick. Howbeit, his comming in brake their strife
at that time, and so they left eche other."] There
was probably no other authority than the Prompter's
book for designating him a Poet.

5 70. Lucil. [within] . Tou shall not come to them,
— In the Variorum and the other modern editions,
although they commonly make no distinction between
the abbreviation for Lucilius and that for Lucius^
this speech must be understood to be assigned to
Lucius, whose presence alone is noted by them in
the heading of the scene. But in the old text the
speaker is distinctly marked Lucil. This is a con-
clusive confirmation, if any were wanting, of the
restoration in 520. [White takes the same view of
it.] How is it that the modern editors have one and
all of them omitted to acknowledge the universal
deviation here from the authority which they all
profess to follow ? Not even Jennens notices it.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 345

573. For I have seen more years ^ p7n sure^ than
ye, — Plutarch makes Favonius exclaim, in the
words of Nestor in the First Book of the Iliad, —

^AVkd nldEuff • djLicpix) d^ veaniQOj iatdv ijiisio, —

which North translates, —

My Lords, I pray jou hearken both to me ;
For I have seen more years than such ye three.

But this last line can hardly be correctly printed. —
The Poet's quotation, it may be noted, is almost a
repetition of what Antony has said to Octavius
in 495.

574. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme I
— The form of the word in all the Folios is vildely,
or vildly ; and that is the form which it generally,
if not always, has in Shakespeare. The modern
editors, however, have universally substituted the
form now m use, as with then (for than), and (for
an), and other words similarly circumstanced.

577* I^^l know his humour when he knows his
time. — In this line we have what the rule as com-
monly laid down would make to be necessarily a short
or unaccented syllable carrying a strong emphasis no
fewer than four times : /// — his — he — his.

577. With these jigging fools. — " That is," Ma-
lone notes, " with these silly poets. A Jig signified,
in our author's time, a metrical composition, as well
as a dance." Capell had proposed jingling.

577. Companion, hence I — The term companion
was formerly used contemptuously, in the same way
in which we still use its synonyme fellow. The
notion originally involved in companionship, or ac-
companiment, would appear to have been rather that
of inferiority than of equality. A companion (or
comes) was an attendant. The Comites of the iiii-

34^ Philological Commentary, [act iv.

perial court, whence our modern Counts or Earls,
and other nobility, were certainly not regarded as
being the equals of the Emperor, any more than a
Companion to a lady is now looked upon as the
equal of her mistress. We have our moderny^//ow
from the Saxon y^/«w; companion (with company)
immediately from the French compagnon and the
Italian compagno^ which have been variously de-
duced from com-panis^ com-paganus^ combine (Low
Latin, from binus)^ com-benno (one of two or more
riders in the same benna^ or cart), etc. [It is pretty
certainly from the Low Latin companium^ com-
pounded of con and panis. Wedgwood compares
the Old High German gi-mazo^ or gi-leip, board-
fellow, from mazo^ meat, or leip^ bread ; and the
Qo^\z gahlaiba^ fellow-disciple {John xi. i6), from
hlaibs^ bread.] We have an instance of the use of
Companion in the same sense in which we still
commonly employ fellow^ even in so late a work as
Smolletfs Roderick Random^ published in 1748:
" The young ladies, who thought themselves too
much concerned to contain themselves any longer,
set up their throats all together against my protector.
' Scurvy companion ! Saucy tarpaulin ! Rude im-
pertinent fellow ! Did he think to prescribe to
grandpapa ! ' " Vol. I. ch. 3. In considering this
meaning of the terms companion and fellow^ we
may also remember the proverb which tells us that
" Familiarity breeds Contempt."

Neither the entry nor the exit of Lucilius and
Titinius is noticed in the old copies.

579. Lucilius and Titinius^ bid the commanders,
— The only irregularity in the prosody of this line is
the common one of the one superfluous short syllable,
the ius of Titinius,

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 347

580. Immediately to us^ etc. — If this, as may be
the case, is to form a complete line with the words
of Brutus that follow, two of the six syllables must be
regarded as superabundant. But there might per-
haps be a question as to the accentuation of the us.

588. Upon what sickness? — That is, after or in
consequence of what sickness. It is the same use of
upon which we have in 457, and which is still fa-
miliar to us in such phrases as " upon this," " upon
that," " upon his return," etc., though we no longer
speak of a person as dying upon a particular sick-
ness or disease.

589. Impatient of my absence^ etc. — This speech
is throughout a striking exemplification of the ten-
dency of strong emotion to break through the logical
forms of grammar, and of how possible it is for
language to be perfectly intelligible and highly ex-
pressive, sometimes, with the grammar in a more or
less chaotic or uncertain state. It does not matter
much whether we take grief to be a nominative, or
a second genitive governed by impatient. In prin-
ciple, though not perhaps according to rule and
established usage, *' Octavius with Mark Antony"
is as much entitled to a plural verb as " Octavius
and Mark Antony." Tidings^ which is a frequent
word with Shakespeare, is commonly used by him
as a plural noun ; in this same Play we have after-
wards " these tidings " in 728; but there are other
instances besides the present in which it is treated
as singular. It is remarkable that we should have
exactly the same state of things in the case of the
almost synonymous term news (the final s of which,
however, has been sometimes attempted to be ac-
counted for as a remnant of -ess or -ness^ though
its exact correspondence in form with the French

348 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

nouvelles^ of the same signification, would seem con-
clusively enough to indicate what it really is). At
any rate tiding and new (as a substantive) are both
alike unknown to the language.

589. She fell distract. — In Shakespeare's day
the language possessed the three forms distracted^
distract^ and distraught ; he uses them all. We
have now only the first. [See on 252.]

592. The original stage direction here is, ^''Enter
Boywith Wine and Tapers'^ The second '''•Drinks^^
at the end of 594 is modern ; and the '•''Reenter Ti-
tinius^^ etc., is ^'' Enter" in the original.

595. And call in question. — Here we have prob-
ably rather a figurative expression of the poet than a
common idiom of his time. Then as well as now,
we may suppose, it was not things, but only persons,
that were spoken of in ordinary language as called
in question.

597. Bending their expedition. — Rather what
we should now call their march (or movement) —
though perhaps implying that they were pressing
on — than their expedition (or enterprise).

598. Myself have letters. — We have now lost
the right of using such forms as either myself or
himself as sufficient nominatives, though they still
remain perfectly unobjectionable accusatives. We
can say "I blame myself," and "I saw himself;"
hut it must be "I myself blame him," and "He
himself saw it." Here, as everywhere else, in the
original text the myself \% in two words, " My selfe."
And tenour in all the Folios, and also in both Rowe's
edition and Pope's, is tenure., a form of the word
which we now reserve for another sense.

600. That By proscription^ and bills of outlawry,
— The word outlawry taking the accent on the first

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 349

syllable, this line will be most naturally read by
being regarded as characterized by the common
peculiarity of a supernumerary short syllable — the
tion or the and — to be disposed of, as usual, by the
two being rapidly enunciated as one. It will in this
way be exactly of the same prosody with another
that we have presently : " Struck Caesar on the
neck. — O you flatterers" (689). It might, indeed,
be reduced to perfect regularity by the tion being
distributed into a dissyllable, — ti-on^ — in which case
the prosody would be completed at out, and the two
following unaccented syllables would count for noth-
ing (or be what is called hypercatalectic), unless,
indeed, any one should insist upon taking them for
an additional foot, and so holding the verse to be an
Alexandrine. But taste and probability alike protest
against either of these ways of managing the matter.
(See what is said in regard to the dissyllabication of
the tion or sion by Shakespeare in the note on 246 :
She dreamt to-night she saw my statue^ Nay, even
the running together of the tion and the and is not
necessary, nor the way that would be taken by a
good reader ; that is not how the line would be read,
but only how it might be scanned : in reading it, the
and would be rather combined with the bills., and a
short pause would, in fact, be made after the tion,
as the pointing and the sense require. So entirely
unfounded is the notion that a pause, of whatever
length, occurring in the course of a verse can ever
have anything of the prosodical effect of a word
or syllable.

603. Cicero is dead, — In the original printed
text these words are run into one line with " and by
that order of proscription." The text of the Vario-
rum edition presents the same arrangement, with

350 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

the addition of Ay as a prefix to the whole. " For
the insertion of the affirmative adverb, to complete
the verse," says Steevens in a note, " I am answera-
ble." According to Jennens, however, this addition
was also made by Capell. In any case, it is plain
that, if we receive the Ay, we must make two lines,
the first ending with the word dead. But we are not
entitled to exact or to expect a perfect observance
of the punctilios of regular prosody in such brief
expressions of strong emotion as the dialogue is here
broken up into. What do the followers of Steevens
profess to be able to make, in the way of prosody,
of the very next utterance that we have from Bru-
tus,—the " No, Messala" of 604? The best thing
we can do is to regard Cassius's "Cicero one?"
and Messala's responsive " Cicero is dead" either as
hemistichs (the one the commencement, the other
the conclusion, of a line), or, if that view be pre-
ferred, as having no distinct or precise prosodical
character whatever. Every sense of harmony and
propriety, however, revolts against running " Cicero
is dead " into the same line with " And by that
order," etc. [Collier, Dyce, Hudson, and White, all
omit " Ay," and arrange the lines as here.]

612. JVM meditating that she must die once, —
For this use of with see 362. Once has here the
same meaning which it has in such common forms
of expression as " Once, when I was in London,"
" Once upon a time," etc. — that is to say, it means
once without, as in other cases, restriction to that
particular number. Steevens, correctly enough, in-
terprets it as equivalent to " at some time or other ; "
and quotes in illustration, from The Merry Wives
of Windsor, iii. 4, " I pray thee, once to-night Give
my sweet Nan this ring." [Compare Jeremiah xiii.

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 351

27.] The prosody of the line is the same that has
been noted in 435, 435, and 536.

614. I have as much of this in art as you^ etc. —
In art Malone interprets to mean " in theory." It
rather signifies by acquired knowledge, or learn-
ing, as distinguished from natural disposition. The
passage is one of the many in our old poets, more
especially Shakespeare and Spenser, running upon
the relation between nature and art.

615. Well^ to our work alive. — This must mean,
apparently, let us proceed to our living business, to
that which concerns the living, not the dead. The
commentators say nothing, though the expression is
certainly one that needs explanation.

618. This it is. — '-'-ThQ overflow of the metre,"
Steevens observes, " and the disagreeable clash of it
is with * Tis at the beginning of the next line, are
almost proofs that our author only wrote, with a
common ellipsis. This" He may be right. The
expression " This it is" sounds awkward otherwise,
as well as prosodically ; and the superfluous, or
rather encumbering it is would be accounted for by
supposing the commencement of the following line
to have been first so written and then altered to ' Tis.

619. Good reasons must^ of force. — We scarcely
now say of force (for of necessity, or necessarily) ;
although perforce continues to be sometimes still
employed in poetry. It may even be doubted if this
be Milton's meaning in

our conqueror (whom I now

Of force believe almighty, since no less
Than such could have o'erpowered such force as ours).

P. L. i. 145.

619. The enemy ^ marching along by them, —
This line, with the two weak syllables in the last

352 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

places of two successive feet (the second and third)
might seem at first to be of the same kind with the
one noted in 600. But the important distinction is,
that the first of the two weak syllables here, the -y
of enemy, would in any circumstances be entitled to
occupy the place it does in our heroic verse, in virtue
of the principle that in English prosody every syllable
of a polysyllabic word acquires the privilege or char-
acter of a strong syllable when it is as far removed
from the accented syllable of the word as the nature
of the verse requires. See Prolegomena, Sect. vi.
The dissonance here, accordingly, is very slight in
comparison with what we have in 600. — For "Along
by them " see 200.

619. By them shall m.ake a fuller nu?nber up, —
For this use of shall see the note on Ccesar should
be a beast in 238. — The " along by them " followed
by the " by them " is an artifice of expression, which
may be compared with the " by Csesar and by you "
of 344.

619. Come on refreshed, new-hearted, and en-
couraged.— "New-hearted" is the correction of
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator ; the old reading is new-
added, which is not English or sense, and the only
meaning that can be forced out of which, besides,
gives us merely a repetition of what has been already
said in the preceding line, a repetition which is not
only unnecessary, but would be introduced in the
most unnatural way and place possible ; whereas
new-hearted is the very sort of word that one would
expect to find where it stands, in association with
refreshed Q.nd encouraged. [Staunton and White
have " new-added ; " Hudson, " new-aided," which
was independently suggested by Dyce and Singer,

sc. III.] Julius C-^sar. 353

and which, if any change is made, seems the most
plausible one.]

619. From which advantage shall we cut him
off. — Shakespeare perhaps wrote we shall,

621. Under your pardon, — See 357.

621 . We^ at the height., etc. — Being at the height,
are in consequence ready to decline — as the tide
begins to recede as soon as it has attained the point
of full flood.

621. Omitted. — The full resolution will be —
which tide being omitted to be taken at the flood.

622. Then., with your will., etc. — In the original
edition " We'll along" is made part of the first line.
Mr. Collier prints, it does not appear on what, or
whether on any, authority, " We will along," as had
been done on conjecture by Rowe, Pope, and others.
[So Hudson and White. Dyce has '^ We'll."] The
"We'll along" gives us merely the very common
slight irregularity of a single superabundant sylla-
ble.— " With your will" is equivalent to With your
consent ; " We'll along " to We will onward. But
the passage is probably corrupt.

623. The deep of night is crept. — See 373.

623. Which we will niggard. — Niggard is com-
mon both as a substantive and as an adjective ; but
this is probably the only passage in the language in
which it is employed as a verb. Its obvious meaning
is, as Johnson gives it in his Dictionary, " to stint, to
supply sparingly." [See on fathered^ 213.]

623. There is no m^ore to say. — There is no more
for us to say. So, " I have work to do," " He has a
house to let," etc. In Ireland it is thought more
correct to announce a house as to be let; but that
would rather mean that it is going to be let. [Com-
pare Marsh, Lectures.^ First Series^ p. 652.]
23

354 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

624. Early to-morrow will we rise^ and hence. —

It might almost be said that the adverb hence is here

turned into a verb ; it is construed exactly as rise

is: "Willw^e rise/' — " w^ill we hence." So, both

with hence and home^ in the opening line of the

Play: —

Hence ! home, jou idle creatures.

625. Lucius^ my gown^ etc. — The best way of
treating the commencement of this speech of Brutus
is to regard the w^ords addressed to Lucius as one
hemistich and "Farewell, good Messala" as another.
There are, in fact, two speeches. It is the same case
that we have in 505. — In the old editions the stage
directions are, after 624, ''''Enter Lucius^^ and then,
again, after 626, ''^ Enter Lucius with the gown."
After 631 there is merely '''•Exeunt."

633. Poor knave^ I blame thee not; thou art
o'erwatched. — For knave see 646. — Overwatched,
or overwatched, is used in this sense, of worn out
with watching, by other old writers as well as by
Shakespeare, however irreconcilable such an appli-
cation of it may be with the meaning of the verb to
watch. We have it again in Lear, ii. 2 : —

All weary and o'erwatched,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.

633. Some other of my men. — By some other
we should now mean some of a different sort. For
some more we say some others. But, although other
thus used as a substantive, with the plural of the
ordinary form, is older than the time of Shakespeare,
I do not recollect that he anywhere has others. Nor
does it occur, I believe, even in Clarendon. On the
other hand, it is frequent in Milton. [See 78.]

634. Varro and Claudius 1 — In the old copies it

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 355

is " Varrus and Claudio" both in the speech and
in the stage direction that follows.

636. I pray you, Sirs. — Common as the word
Sir still is, we have nearly lost the form Sirs. It
survives, however, in the Scottish dialect, with the
pronunciation of Sirce, as the usual address to a
number of persons, much as Masters was formerly
in English [see 401, 407], only that it is applied to
women as well as to men. [Compare Acts vii. 26,
xiv. 15, xvi. 30, etc. Mrs. Clarke does not give
Sirs, but it occurs in T'itus Andronicus, iii. i.; i
Henry IV., ii. 2 and 4, etc.]

638. Servants lie down. — This stage direction is
modern.

640. Canst thou hold up, etc. — This and the
next line are given in the Second Folio in the fol-
lowing blundering fashion, the result, no doubt, of an
accidental displacement of the types : —

Canst thou hold up thy instrument a straine or two.
And touch thy heavy eyes a-while.

The transposition is corrected by Mr. Collier's MS.
annotator.

644. / know young" bloods look. — See 56.

646. It was well done. — So in the old copies ;
but the Variorum edition has " It 25," in which it has
been followed by other modern editors, though not
by either Mr. Knight or Mr. Collier. [Dyce and
White have " was ; " Hudson has " is."]

646. [^Thy leaden mace. — Compare Spenser,
F. ^. i.4.44: —

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace
Arrested all that courtly company, — ]

646. Gentle knave, good night. — Knave, from
the Saxon cnafa, or cnapa, having meant originally
only a boy, and meaning now only a rogue, was in

356 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

Shakespeare's time in current use with either signifi-
cation. It was in its state of transition from the one
to the other, and consequently of fluctuation between
the two. The German Knabe still retains the origi-
nal sense.

646. I njoill not do thee so much wrong to wake
thee. — See 407.

The stage direction "Z^ sits down" is modern.

646. // comes upon me. — It advances upon me.

646. Speak to me what thou art, — We scarcely
now use speak thus, for to announce or declare
generally.

647, 648. Thy evil spirit .^ Brutus ., etc. — It is
absurd to attempt, as the modern editors do, to make
a complete verse out of these two speeches. It can-
not be supposed that Brutus laid his emphasis on
thou. The regularities of prosody are of necessity
neglected in such brief utterances, amounting in
some cases to mere ejaculations or little more, as
make up the greater part of the remainder of this
scene.

650. Well; then I shall see thee again ? — So the
words stand in the old copies. Nothing whatever
is gained by printing the words in two lines, the first
consisting only of the word Well^ as is done by the
generality of the modern editors. [Not by Collier,
Hudson, or White.]

65 1 . Ghost vanishes. — This stage direction is
not in the old editions. Steevens has objected that
the apparition could not be at once the shade of
Caesar and the evil genius of Brutus. Shakespeare's
expression is the evil spirit of Brutus, by which
apparently is meant nothing more than a super-
natural visitant of evil omen. At any rate, the pres-
ent apparition is afterwards, in 773, distinctly stated

sc. III.] Julius Caesar. 357

by Brutus himself to have been the ghost of the
murdered Dictator : —

The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me
Two several times by night : at Sardis, once.

So, also, in Antony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6 : —

Since Julius Caesar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted.

Perhaps we might also refer to 743 : —

O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet !
Thy spirit walks abroad.

And to " Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge," in 362.
It may be vv^ell to append the two accounts of the
incident given by Plutarch, as translated by North.
In the Life of Brutus the apparition is described
merely as " a wonderful strange and monstruous
shape of a body," and the narrative proceeds : " Bru-
tus boldly asked what he was, a god or a man, and
what cause brought him thither. The spirit an-
swered him, I am thy evil spirit, Brutus ; and thou
shalt see me by the city of Philippi. Brutus, being
no otherwise afraid, replied again unto it, Well,
then, I shall see thee again. The spirit presently
vanished away ; and Brutus called his men unto him,
who told him that they heard no noise nor saw any-
thing at all." In the Life of Caesar the account is as
follows : " Above all, the ghost that appeared unto
Brutus showed plainly that the gods were offended
with the murder of Csesar. The vision was thus.
Brutus, being ready to pass over his army from the
city of Abydos to the other coast lying directly
against it, slept every night (as his manner was)
in his tent, and, being yet awake, thinking of his
affairs, ... he thought he heard a noise at his tent
door, and, looking toward the light of the lamp that

358 Philological Commentary, [act iv.

waxed very dim, he saw a horrible vision of a man,
of a wonderful greatness and dreadful look, which at
the first made him marvellously afraid. But when
he saw that it did him no hurt, but stood at his bed-
side and said nothing, at length he asked him what
he was. The image answered him, I am thy ill
angel, Brutus, and thou shalt see me by the city of
Philippi. Then Brutus replied again, and said,
Well, I shall see thee then. Therewithal the spirit
presently vanished from him."

It is evident that Shakespeare had both passages
in his recollection, though the present scene is chiefly
founded upon the first. Plutarch, however, it will
be observed, nowhere makes the apparition to have
been the ghost of Caesar.

652. IV/iy, I will see thee, — This is an addition
by Shakespeare to the dialogue as given by Plutarch
in both lives. And even Plutarch's simple afl[irma-
tive I shall see thee appears to be converted into an
interrogation in 650. It is remarkable that in our
next English Plutarch, which passes as having been
superintended by Dryden, we have " I will see thee "
in both lives. The Greek is, in both passages,
merely "0\^^a.\ (I shall see thee).

652. Boy I Lucius I — Varrol Claudius I — Here
again, as in 634, all the Folios, in this and the next
line, have Varrus and Claudio. So also in 660.

660. Sleep again, Lucius, etc. — It is hardly
necessary to attempt to make verse of this. In the
original text I^ellow is made to stand as part of the
first line.

66^. Go, and commend me to my brother Cas-
sius. — See 278.

668. Bid him. set on his powers betimes before, —
The only sense which the expression to set on now

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 359

retains is to excite or instigate to make an attack.
The other senses which it had in Shakespeare's day
may be seen from 27 (" Set on ; and leave no cere-
mony out ") ; from the passage before us, in which
it means to lead forward or set out with ; from 713
("Let them set on at once") ; from 745 (" Labeo
and Flavius, set our battles on "). — Betimes (mean-
ing early) is commonly supposed to be a corruption
of by time^ that is, it is said, by the proper time.
But this is far frorh satisfactory. Shakespeare has
occasionally betime. [Compare Chaucer {Parson^s
Tale) : "If men be so negligent that they descharge
it nought by tyme;" and Rob. de Brunne : "If he
bi tyme had gon." These and similar examples
seem to confirm the etymology mentioned above.
Betimes is found in the Bible, Gen. xxvi. 31; 2
Chron, xxxvi. 15, etc.]

ACT V.

Scene I. The heading — '•^ Scene /. The plains
of Philippi " — is modern, as usual.

670. Their battles are at hand. — Battle is com-
mon in our old writers with the sense of a division of
an army, or what might now be called a battalion.
So again in 673. When employed more precisely
the word means the central or main division.

670. They mean to warn us. — To warn was
formerly the common word for what we now call to
summon. Persons charged with offences, or against
whom complaints were made, were warned to ap-
pear to make their answers ; members were warned
to attend the meetings of the companies or other
associations to which they belonged ; and in war
either of the hostile parties, as here, was said to be

360 Philological Commentary, [act v.

warned when in any way called upon or appealed
to by the other. Thus in King- Jokn^ ii. i, the
citizens of Angiers, making their appearance in an-
swer to the French and English trumpets, exclaim,
"Who is it that hath warned us to the walls?"
The word, which is connected with ware and wary^
is from the Saxon warnian. But the Anglo-Norman
dialect of the French has also garner and garnisher
with the same meaning.

671 . With fearful bravery. — Malone's notion is,
that ^''fearful is used here, as in many other places,
in an active sense, — producing fear — intimidat-
ing ^ But the utmost, surely, that Antony can be
understood to admit is, that their show of bravery
was intended to intimidate. It seems more conso-
nant to the context to take fearful bravery for bravery
in show or appearance, which yet is full of real fear
or apprehension. Steevens suggests that the ex-
pression is probably to be interpreted by the follow-
ing passage from the Second Book of Sidney's Arca-
dia : " Her horse, fair and lusty ; which she rid so
as might show a fearful boldness^ daring to do that
which she knew that she knew not how to do." The
meaning is only so as showed (not so as should
show). In like manner a few pages before we have,
"But his father had so deeply engraved the sus-
picion in his heart, that he thought his flight rather
to proceed of a fearful guiltiness., than of an hum-
ble faithfulness." [" Fearful " in the sense of timo-
rous, faint-hearted, is very common in Old English.
See Dent. xx. 8 ; fudges vii. 3 ; Isa. xxxv. 4 ;
Matt. viii. 26 ; JRev. xxi. 8, etc. So in 3 Henry
VL ii. 5, " the fearful flying hare." " Dreadful "
is used in the same sense by Chaucer ( C. T. 1481) :
" With dredful foot than stalketh Falamon ; " and

sc. I.] Julius C-^sar. 361

(C. T, 11621): "With dredfal herte and with ful
humble chere." So Gower ( Conf. Am. i. p. 247) :
" Whereof the dredfull hertes tremblen." Wichf s
Bible has "a dreedful herte" in Deut. xxviii. 65.
Compare the use of ''awful" in Milton {Hymn
on Nativ. 59) : " And kings sat still with awful
eye."]

671. By this face. — By this show or pretence of
courage.

671. To fasten in our thoughts that they have
courage, — We have now lost the power of con-
struing to fasten in this way, as if it belonged to
the same class of verbs with to think., to believe., to
suppose., to imagine., to say., to assert., to affirm., to
declare., to swear., to coitvince., to inform., to re-
m-ember., to forget., etc., the distinction of which
seems to be that they are all significant either of an
operation performed by, or at least with the aid of,
or of an effect produced upon, the mind.

672. [ Their bloody sign of battle., etc. — Com-
pare North's Plutarch : " The next morning by
break of day, the signal of battle was set out in
Brutus* and Cassius' camp, which -v^as an arming
scarlet coat."]

674. Keep thou the left. — Ritson remarks —
" The tenor of the conversation evidently requires
us to read yoti.''* He means, apparently, that you
and your are the words used elsewhere throughout
the conversation. But he forgets that the singular
pronoun is peculiarly emphatic in this line, as being
placed in contrast or opposition to the /. It is true,
however, that thou and you were apt to be mistaken
for one another in old handwriting from the simi-
larity of the characters used for th and jk, which is
such that the printers have in many cases been led

362 Philological Commentary, [act v.

to represent the one by the other, giving us, for in-
stance, jj/^ for the^ yereof^ ox fof^ for thereof^ etc.

675. Why do you cross me in this exigent? —
This is Shakespeare's word for what we now call
an exigence, or exigency. Both forms, however,
were already in use in his day. Exigent^ too, as
Nares observes, appears to have then sometimes
borne the sense of extremity or end, which is a very
slight extension of its proper import of great or ex-
treme pressure. [For an instance of this use of the
word, see i Henry VI. ii. 5 : —

These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
Grow dim, as drawing to their exigent.]

677. Drum, etc. — '-'•Lucilius, Titinius, Messala^
and Others" is a modern addition to the heading
here.

679. Shall we give sign of battle? — We should
now say " give signal."

680. We will answer on their charge. — We will
wait till they begin to make their advance.

680. Make forth. — To make, a word which is
still used with perhaps as much latitude and variety
of application as any other in the language, was,
like to do, employed formerly in a number of ways
in which it has now ceased to serve us. Nares
arranges its obsolete senses under seven *heads, no
one of which, however, exactly comprehends the
sense it bears in the present expression. To make
forth is to step forward. What Antony says is
addressed, not to the troops, but to Octavius ; his
meaning is, Let us go forward ; the generals —
Brutus and Cassius — would hold some parley
with us.

(i^d. The posture of your blows are yet unknown.
— This is the reading of all the old copies. The

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 363

grammatical irregularity is still common. "Zryet"
is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator.
One would be inclined rather to suspect the word
posture. It seems a strange word for what it is evi-
dently intended to express.

689. Struck Ccesar on the neck. — O you flat-
terersl — The word in the old text is strook (as in
347). There is the common prosodical irregularity
of a superfluous short syllable. — See 600.

690. Flatterers ! — Now^ Brutus^ thank yourself.

— The prosodical imperfection of this line consists
in the want of the first syllable. It is a hemistich
consisting of four feet and a half.

691. The proof of it. — That is, the proof of our
arguing. And by the proof \i\vl?X. here be meant the
arbitrament of the sword to which it is the prologue
or jDrelude. It is by that that they are to prove what
they have been arguing or asserting.

691. Look I I draw a sword^ etc. — It is perhaps
as well to regard the Look as a hemistich (of half a
foot) ; but in the original edition it is printed in the
same line with what follows.

691 . Never., till Ccesar' s three and thirty wounds,

— Theobald changed this to " three and twenty ^^ —
" from the joint authorities," as he says, " of Appian,
Plutarch, and Suetonius." And he may be right in
believing that the error was not Shakespeare's. The
*' thirty," however, escapes the condemnation of Mr.
Collier's MS. annotator.

691. Have added slaughter to the sword of
traitors. ^— This is not very satisfactory ; but it is
better, upon the whole, than the amendment adopted
by Mr. Collier on the authority of his MS. annota-
tor— " Have added slaughter to the word of traitor ; "

— which would seem to be an admission on the part

364 Philological Commentary, [act v.

of Octavius (impossible in the circumstances) that
Brutus and Cassius were as yet free from actual
treasonable slaughter, and traitors only in word or
name. [Collier, in his second edition, remarks that
" the emendation may reasonably be disputed," and
returns to the old reading.]

692. Ccesar^ thou canst not die by traitors^ hands.
— In the standard Variorum edition, which is fol-
lowed by many modern reprints, this line is strangely
given as " Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors." It
is right in all Mr. Knight's and Mr. Collier's edi-
tions.

694. O, if thou nvert the noblest of thy strain. —
Strain., or strene., is stock or race. The word is
used several times by Shakespeare in this sense, and
not only by Chaucer and Spenser, but even by Dry-
den, Waller, and Prior. The radical meaning seems
to be anything stretched out or extended ; hence a
series either of progenitors, or of words or musical
notes or sentiments.

694. Thou couldst not die more honorable. —
This is not Shakespeare's usual form of expression,
and we may suspect that he actually wrote honora-
bly (or honourablie) .

697. The original stage direction is '''Exit Octa-
vius., Antony., and Ar?7ty."

698. [ Why now^ blow., wind; etc. — In White's
edition this line is punctuated as a question — a
misprint probably.]

699. Ho! Lucilius; etc. — This is given as one
verse in the original, and nothing is gained by print-
ing the Ho I in another line by itself, as some modern
editors do. The verse is complete, except that it
wants the first syllable — a natural peculiarity of an
abrupt commencement or rejoinder. So in 690. —

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 365

In the original edition this speech is followed by
the stage direction ^^Lucillius and Messala stand
forth; " and there is no other after 700.

703. As this very day. — We are still familiar
with this form of expression, at least in speaking.
We may understand it to mean As is, or as falls, this
very day ; or rather, perhaps, as if, or as it were,
this very day.

703. On our former ensign. — JPor7ner is altered
to forward^ it seems, by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator ;
and the correction ought probably to be accepted.
[But, as White remarks, the use of the comparative
for the superlative was not uncommon in Shake-
speare's day ; and Collier himself retains former. '\

703. Who to Philippi here consorted us. —
Shakespeare's usual syntax is to consort with; but
he has consort as an active verb in other passages as
well as here.

703. This morning are they fed away^ and gone.

— See 373.

703. As we were sickly prey. — As if we were. —
See 57.

703. \_A canopy most fatal. — Hudson has " faith-
ful " instead of " fatal." If not a misprint, it is a
most unfortunate alteration.]

705. To meet all perils. — So in the First Folio.
The other Folios have peril.

707. Lovers in peace. — See 259.

707. But^ since the affairs of men rest still un-
certain. — '•'•Rests still i7zcertaine " is the reading in
the original edition.

707. Lefs reason with the worst that may befall.

— The abbreviation lefs had not formerly the vulgar
or slovenly air which is conceived to unfit it now
for dignified composition. We have had it twice

366 Philological Commentary, [act v.

in Brutus's impressive address, 187. Shakespeare,
however, does not frequently resort to it, — rather,
one would say, avoids it. — To befall as a neuter or
intransitive verb is nearly gone out both in prose and
verse ; as is also to fall in the same sense, as used
by Brutus in the next speech.

708. Even by the rule, etc. — The construction
plainly is, I know not how it is, but I do find it, by the
rule of that philosophy, etc., cowardly and vile. The
common pointing of the modern editors, w^hich com-
pletely separates ••' I know not how," etc., from what
precedes, leaves the " by the rule " without connec-
tion or meaning. It is impossible to suppose that
Brutus can mean " I am determined to do by the rule
of that philosophy," etc. [This meaning, which Craik
considers " impossible " (I am determined to do by^
i. e. act in accordance with, govern myself by, the
rule of that philosophy, etc.), seems, on the whole,
the best possible. So Dyce and Hudson appear
to understand the passage, pointing it as follows,
making " I know not how . . . The time of life "
parenthetical : —

Even by the rule of that philosophy,

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, etc.

Collier and White put a period after " himself;" but
how the latter part of the passage is to be interpreted
with that pointing, is beyond my comprehension.]

708. The term of life. — That is, the termination,
the end, of life. The common reading is " the time
of life," which is simply nonsense ; term is the emen-
dation of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, and the same

sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 367

emendation had also been made conjecturally by
Capell, though it failed to obtain the acquiescence
of subsequent editors. [I cannot but think, with
Dyce, that the alteration is a most unnecessary one.
As Hudson says, " by ti7ne is meant the full time,
the natural period." Staunton compares " the time
of life is short," i Henry IV. v. 2, but it is not
exactly parallel to the expression here.] For to
prevent ,1 see 147 and 161.

708 . To stay the providence of those high powers,
— To stay is here to await, not, as the word more
commonly means, to hinder or delay. — " Some high
powers " is the common reading ; those is the cor-
rection of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, and might
almost have been assumed on conjecture to be the
true word. [It is not adopted by Dyce, Hudson,
Staunton, or White.]

709. [ Thorough the streets. — See 338.]

710. No^ Cassius^ no : etc. — There has been some
controversy about the reasoning of Brutus in this
dialogue. Both Steevens and Malone conceive that
there is an inconsistency between what lie here says
and his previous declaration of his determination
not to follow the example of Cato. But how did
Cato act? He slew himself that he might not wit-
ness and outlive the fall of Utica. This was, merely
"for fear of what might fall," to anticipate the end
of life. It did not follow that it would be wrong, in
the opinion of Brutus, to commit suicide in order to
escape any certain and otherwise inevitable calamity
or degradation, such as being led in triumph through
the streets of Rome by Octavius and Antony.

It is proper to remark, however, that Plutarch,
upon whose narrative the conversation is founded,
makes Brutus confess to a change of opinion. Here

368 Philological Commentary, [act v.

is the passage, in the Life of Brutus, as translated
by Sir Thomas North : " Then Cassius began to
speak first, and said : The gods grant us, O Brutus,
that this day we may win the field, and ever after to
live all the rest of our life quietly, one with another.
But, sith the gods have so ordained it, that the great-
est and chiefest [things] amongst men are most
uncertain, and that, if the battle fall out otherwise
to-day than we wish or look for, we shall hardly
meet again, what art thou then determined to do?
to fly? or die? Brutus answered him: Being yet
but a young man, and not over greatly experienced
in the world, I trust \^trustedli (I know not how) a
certain rule of philosophy, by the which I did greatly
blame and reprove Cato for killing of himself, as
being no lawful nor godly act touching the gods,
nor, concerning men, valiant ; not to give place and
yield to divine Providence, and not constantly and
patiently to take whatsoever it pleaseth him to send
us, but to draw back and fly. But, being now in the
midst of the danger, I am of a contrary mind. For,
if it be not the will of God that this battle fall out
fortunate for us, I will look no more for hope, neither
seek to make any new supply for war again, but will
rid me of this miserable world, and content me with
my fortune. For I gave up my life for my country
in the Ides of March ; for the which I shall live in
another more glorious world."

This, compared with the scene in the Play affords
a most interesting and instructive illustration of the
manner in which the great dramatist worked in such
cases, appropriating, rejecting, adding, as suited his
purpose, but refining or elevating everything, though
sometimes by the slightest touch, and so transmuting
all into the gold of poetry.

sc. II., III.] Julius C^sar. 369

710. Must end that work the ides of March
legun, — Begu7i is the word in the old editions.
Mr. Collier has began. The three last Folios all
have " that Ides of March begun."

Scene II. 713. Give these bills. — These billets,
as we should now say ; but Shakespeare takes the
word which he found in '^ox\}Ci?> Plutarch: "In
the mean time Brutus, that led the right wing, sent
little bills to the colonels and captains of private
bands, in which he wrote the word of the battle."

As in all other cases throughout the Play, the
notices of the locality of what are here called the
Second and Third Scenes are modern additions to
the old text, in which there is no division into scenes.
The stage directions in regard to alarums, entries,
etc., are all in the First Folio.

713. But cold demeanour in Octavius* wing. —
The original text has '•'• Octavio* s wing." In 715,
however, it is Octavius.

Scene III. 7^4* This ensign here of mine was
turning back. — Here the term ensign may almost
be said to be used with the double meaning of both
the standard and the standard-bearer.

715. Took it too eagerly, — Followed his ad-
vantage too eagerly. The prosody of this line, with
its two superfluous syllables, well expresses the hurry
and impetuosity of the speaker.

719. \_ Whether yond troops. — See 65. Hudson
and White in both passages give yond\ as if yond
were not a good English word. So in 724 they
print 'light for light.']

721. Go,, Pindarus., get higher on that hill. —
This is the reading of the First Folio ; all the others
24

370 Philological Commentary, [act v.

have " get hither." The stage direction '-'-Exit Pin-
darus" is modern.

721. This day I breathed Jirst. — Compare this
expression with what we have in 703: ''As this
very day Was Cassius born."

721. Ti7ne is come round. . . . My life is run
his compass. — See 373.

721. Sirrah^ what news? — The expressive effect
of the break in the even flow of the rhythm produced
by the superfluous syllable here, and the vividness
with which it brings before us the sudden awakening
of Cassius from his reverie, startled, we may sup-
pose, by some sign of agitation on the part of Pin-
darus, will be felt if we will try how the line would
read with "^'/r, what news?"

724. With horsemen that make to him on the
spur. — One of the applications of the verb to make
which we have now lost. See 680.

724. Now., Titiniusl Now some light: etc. — It
may be doubted whether the verb to light or alight
have any connection with either the substantive or
the adjective light. There evidently was, however,
in that marvellous array in which the whole world
of words was marshalled in the mind of Milton : —

So, besides
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound ;
On me, as on their natural centre, light
Heavy. Par. Lost^ x. 741.

In the original text, " He's ta'en" stands in a line by
itself, as frequently happens in that edition with
words that really belong to the preceding verse, and
possibly, notwithstanding their detached position,
were intended to be represented as belonging to it.

725. Take thou the hilts. — Formerly the hilts

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 371

was rather more common than the hilt. Shake-
speare uses both forms. Hilt is a Saxon word, and
is connected, apparently, with healdan^ to hold.

725. Even with the sword that killed thee, —
See 362. The stage directions. Dies and Exit^ are
modern ; and for ''''Re-enter Titinius^ with Mes-
sala" the old copies have '''•Enter" etc.

727. // is but change. — The battle is only a suc-
cession of alternations or vicissitudes.

734. No^ this was he^ Messala. — With the em-
phasis on was.

734. As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
— The to night here seems to be generally under-
stood as meaning this night. Both Mr. Collier and
Mr. Knight print " to-night." But surely a far
nobler sense is given to the words by taking sink to
night to be an expression of the same kind with sink
to rest or sink to sleep. The colorless dulness of
the coming night is contrasted with the red glow in
which the luminary is descending. " O setting sun,
Thou dost sink" moaning simply thou dost set^ is
not much in Shakespeare's manner. Besides, we
hardly say, absolutely, that the sun sinks^ whether
we mean that it is setting or only that it is descend-
ing. And the emphasis given by the to-night to the
mere expression of the time seems uncalled-for and
unnatural. There is no trace of a hyphen in the old
copies. [In his second edition Collier omits the
hyphen, " at the instance of Mr. Craik." Dyce,
Hudson, Staunton, and White also have " to night."
White prints " do'st," confounding doest and dost^
the latter of which is the. established form when the
verb is an auxiliary, as here. JDost is sometimes
found in old writers for doest (as in 3, " What dost
thou," etc., where White so prints it), but I believe

372 Philological Commentary, [act v.

doest is not found for dost. In 737, White prints
"did'st" for "didst." He has also such forms as
" cri'd," " tri'd," and " di'st," which, though con-
tractions of legitimate words, are none the less
offensive to the eye.]

734, 735. Mistrust of my success^ etc. — These
two lines may show us that the word success was not
yet when Shakespeare wrote quite fixed in the sense
which it now bears. It is plain that success simply
was not understood to imply all that was conveyed
by the expression good success. By " mistrust of
my success" Titinius must be interpreted as meaning
no more than mistrust, doubt, or apprehension of
what I had met with ; in conformity with what he
afterwards says in apostrophizing Cassius, " Alas,
thou hast misconstrued everything." [Compare
Josh. i. 8. Hall (^Henry IV.), 1548, has "un-
fortunate success ; " and North i^Plutarch^ s Ara-
tus), 1597? "good success." For other examples
see 229.]

735. O hateful Error I Melancholy's child I —
Error and Melancholy are personages, and the words
are proper names, here. [Dyce, Hudson, and White
do not use the capitals.]

735. To the apt thoughts of men, — See 344.

738. Hie you, Messala. — See 139.

738. And I will seek for Pindarus the while. —
We are still familiar enough with the while, for
meanwhile, or in the mean time, in poetry, in which
so many phrases not of the day are preserved ; but
the expression no longer forms part of what can
properly be called our living English.

The stage direction, ''''Exit Messala" is modern.

738. And bid me give it thee? etc. — This is no

sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 373

Alexandrine, but only a common heroic verse with
two supernumerary short syllables.

738. But hold thee. — Equivalent to our modern
But hold, or but stop.

738. Brutus^ co77ie apace. — Apace is literally at,
or rather on, pace ; that is, by the exertion of all
your power of pacing. See 6^.

738. By your leave., gods. — See 357. The stage
direction that follows this speech in the original
edition is. Alarum. Enter Brutus., Messala^yong
Cato^ Strato.) Volum?zius^ and Lucillius.^^

740. Titinius mourning it. — An unusual con-
struction of the verb to mourn in this sense. We
speak commonly enough of mourning the death of a
person, or any other thing that may have happened ;
we might even perhaps speak of mourning the per-
son who is dead or the thing that is lost ; but we
only mourn over the dead body. So with lament.
We lament the death or the loss, the man or the
thing, but not the body out of which the spirit
is gone.

743. hi our own proper entrails. — That is,
into^ as we should now say. [See 12, 45, and 122.]

744. Look iv/i'.e'r he have not. — That is, " whether
he have not." See 16. The word is here again
printed "where*' in the original edition.

745. The last of all the Romans. — This is the
reading of all the Folios ; and it is left untouched by
Mr. Collier's MS. corrector. ^^Thou last" is the
conjectural' emendation of Rowe. [Dyce, Hudson,
and White have " the."]

745. I owe moe tears. — Moe (or mo) is the word
as it stands in both the First and the Second Folio.
See 158.

745. To ThassQs send his body. — *Thassos is

374 Philological Commentary, [act v.

misprinted Tharsus in all the Folios, and the error
was first corrected by Theobald. Thassos is the
place mentioned by Plutarch (in his Life of Brutus)
as that to which the body was sent to be interred,
and the name is correctly given in North's transla-
tion, which Shakespeare had before him. [The
Cambridge Edition gives Thasos^ which is the more
correct form of the name.]

745. His funei'als. — As we still say nuptials^ so
they formerly often ^2C\di funerals, [Hudson has " fu-
neral" here. Compare Titus Andronicus^ i. i : —

and wise Laertes' son

Did graciously plead for his funerals.]

So Junerailles in French o.ic\dyunera in Latin. On
the other hand, Shakespeare's word is always nup-
tial. Nuptials occurs only in one passage of the
very corrupt text oi Pericles : " We'll celebrate their
nuptials" (v. 3), and in one other passage of Othello
as it stands in the Quarto : " It is the celebration
of his nuptials (ii. 2), where, however, all the other
old copies have nuptial^ as elsewhere.

745. Labeo and Flavius^ etc. — In the First Folio,
^''Labio and Flavio;^^ in the others, ''''Labio and
Flavius.^^

For " set our battles on " see 668.

745. 'Tis three d clock. — In the original edition,
" three a clocke." See ^^.

Scene IV. All that we have in the Folios for
the heading of this Scene is, '-''Alarum. Enter
Brutus^ Messala^ Cato^ Lucilius^ and Flavins.'^
And the only stage directions that we have through-
out the Scene are ^'' Enter Soldiers^ and Jight^' im-
mediately before the speech of Brutus (746), and the
'^Exeunt'' at the end.

sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 375

747. What bastard doth not? — See 177.

751* There is so much^ that thou wilt kill me
straight. The evident meaning of these words has
strangely escaped the acuteness of Warburton, whose
interpretation (1747) is, "So much resistance still
on foot, that thou wilt choose to rid me out of the
way, that thou mayst go, without the embarras of
prisoners, to the assistance of thy friends who still
want it." The true explanation is very well given
by Heath in replying to this (in his Revisal of
Shakespeare's Text, 1^6^): "There is so much
money for thee, on condition that thou wilt kill me
straight."

752. We must not. — A noble prisoner I — The
original edition places the entry of Antony immedi-
ately after this speech.

754. /'// tell the news. — This is the conjectural
emendation of Theobald. All the Folios, and also
both Rowe and Pope, have thee for the. Mr. Collier
adopts the emendation. [So do Dyce, Hudson, and
White.]

757. And see whe'r Brutus be alive or dead. —
See 16 and 744. It is " where " again in the original
text.

757* How everything is chanced. — See 69 and
373-

Scene V. The heading of Scene V., with the
locality, is, as usual, modern.

760. Sit thee down. — In this common phrase,
apparently, the neuter verb to sit has taken the place
of the active to seat. Or perhaps we ought rather
to say that both in Sit thee and in Hark thee, which
we have in the next line and again in 764, thee has
usurped the function of thou. We have a similar

37^ Philological Commentary, [act v.

irregularity in Fare (that is, go) thee well. [Verbs
of motion in Saxon are followed by the dative : sit
thee is nothing more than a case of this dative, per-
haps ; or if a reflective verb, it is nothing strange.]
— The marginal ''''Whispering" at this speech is
modern ; and so is the " Whispers him " at 764.

770. That it runs over. — So that, as in 15.

773 . Here in Philippi fields. — A common enough
form of expression ; as Chelsea Fields, Kensington
Gardens. There is no need of an apostrophe
to Philippi. [North's Plutarch has " Philippian
fields."]

775. Hold thou my sword hilts. — See 725.

777. There is no tarrying here. — So in Macbeth^
V. 5, " There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here."
The expression is from North's Plutarch : " Vo-
lumnius denied his request, and so did many others.
And, amongst the rest, one of them said, there was
no tanying for them, there^ but that they must
nee Is fly."

77S. Parewell to you; — etc. — Mr. Collier ap-
pends the stage direction, '-'- Shaking hands sev-
erally."

778. Farewell to thee too., Strato. — In all the
Folios this stands, " Farevsrell to thee, to Strato."
The correction is one of the many made by Theo-
bald which have been universally acquiesced in. It
appears to have escaped Mr. Collier's MS. annotator.

780. Hence; I will follow. — This is the reading
of all the old copies. Pope adds thee^ in order to
make a complete line of the two hemistichs. — The
'''•Exeunt Clitus" etc., is modern.

780. Thou art a fellow of a good respect. —
See 48.

780. Thy life hath had some smatch of honor

sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 377

in it. — Smatck is only another form of smack^
meaning taste. Smack is the word which Shake-
speare commonly uses, both as noun and verb.
[White has '' smack."]

In the early editions, the stage direction after the
last speech of Brutus (782) is, simply, '-'Dies;" and
in the Entry that follows Antony is placed before
Octavius^ and " their Army" is " the Army."

787. I will entertain them. — Receive them into
my service.

787. Wilt thou bestow thy time with me? —
Here is another sense of bestow^ in addition to that
in 139, which is now lost. Bestow thy time with
7ne means give up thy time to me.

788. If Messala will f refer me to you. — " To
frefer^' Reed observes, " seems to have been the
established phrase for recommending a servant."
And he quotes from The Merchant of Venice^ ii. 2,
what Bassanio says to Launcelot, —

Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day,
And hath preferred thee.

But to f refer was more than merely to recommend.
It was rather to transfer, or hand over ; as might be
inferred even from what Octavius here rejoins, " Do
so, good Messala." That it had come usually to
imply also something of promotion may be seen
from what Bassanio goes on to say : —

if it be preferment

To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.

The sense of the verb to prefer that we have in
Shakespeare continued current down to a consid-
erably later date. Thus Clarendon writes of Lord
Cottington, "His mother was a Stafford, nearly

378 Philological Commentary, [act v.

allied to Sir Edward Stafford ; ... by whom this
gentleman was brought up, . . . and by him recom-
mended to Sir Robert Cecil . . . ; who preferred
him to Sir Charles Cornwallis, when he went am-
bassador into Spain ; where he remained for the
space of eleven or twelve years in the condition of
Secretary or Agent, without ever returning into
England in all that time" i^Hist.^ Book xiii.).

At an earlier date, again, we have Bacon, in the
Dedication of the first edition of his Essays to his
brother Anthony, thus writing : " Since they would
not stay with their master, but would needs* travail
abroad, I have preferred them to you, that are next
myself, dedicating them, such as they are, to our
love," etc.

790. How died my master^ Strata P — So the
First Folio. The Second, by a misprint, omits
master. The Third and Fourth have " my lord"

792. Octavius^ then take him^ etc. — That is,
accept or receive him from me. It is not, I request
you to allow him to enter your service ; but I give
him to you. See 788.

793. He only^ in a generous honest thought Of
common good^ etc. — We are indebted for this read-
ing to Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. It is surely a
great improvement upon the old text, —

He only in a general honest thought,

And common good to all, made one of them.

To act "in a general honest thought" is perhaps
intelligible, though barely so ; but, besides the tau-
tology w^hich must be admitted on the common in-
terpretation, what is to act " in a common good to
all"? [Dyce, Hudson, and White follow the old
text, which is hardly so bad as Collier and Craik
would make it.]

sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 379

793. Made one of them. — In this still familiar
idiom made is equivalent to formed, constituted, and
one must be considered as the accusative governed
by it. Fecit unum. ex eis, or eoru?n (by joining
himself to them).

Here is the prose of Plutarch, as translated by
North, out of w^hich this poetry has been w^rought :"
''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 it as thinking the act commenda-
ble of itself; but that all the other conspirators did
conspire his death for some private malice or envy
that they otherwise did bear unto him."

793. His life was gentle; and the elem.ents^ etc.
— This passage is remarkable from its resemblance to
a passage in Drayton's poem of The Barons' Wars.
Drayton's poem was originally published some years
before the close of the sixteenth century (according
to Ritson, Bibl. Poet.., under the title of '•^ Morteme-
riados. . . . Printed by J. R. for Matthew Lownes,
1596," 4to) ; but there is, it seems, no trace of the
passage in question in that edition. The first edition
in which it is found is that of 1603, in which it
stands thus : —

Such one he was (of him we boldly say)

In whose rich soul all sovereign powers did suit,

In whom in peace the elements all lay

So mixt, as none could sovereignty impute ;

As all did govern, yet all did obey :

His lively temper was so absolute,

That 't seemed, when heaven his model first began,

In him it showed perfection in a man.

[And the stanza remained thus in the editions of
1605, 1607, 1608, 1610, and 1613.]

380 Philological Commentary, [act v.

In a subsequent edition published in 1619 it is
remodelled as follows : —

He was a man (then boldly dare to say)
In whose rich soul the virtues well did suit;
In whom so mixt the elements all lay
That none to one could sovereignty impute ;
As all did govern, so did all obey :
He of a temper was so absolute,
As that it seemed, when nature him began,
She meant to show all that might be in man.

Malone is inclined to think that Drayton was the
copyist, even as his verses originally stood. " In
the altered stanza," he adds, " he certainly was."
Steevens, in the mistaken notion that Drayton's
stanza as found in the edition of his Barons^ Wars
published in 16 19 had appeared in the original
poem, published, as he conceives, in 1598, had sup-
posed that Shakespeare had in this instance deigned
to imitate or borrow from his contemporary.

[White remarks, '' But this resemblance implies
no imitation on either side. For the notion that
man was composed of the four elements, earth, air,
fire, and water, and that the well-balanced mixture
of these produced the prefection of humanity, was
commonly held during the sixteenth, and the first
half, at least, of the seventeenth century, the writers
of which period worked it up in all manner of forms.
Malone himself pointed out the following passage in
Ben Jonson's Cynthia^ s Revels (ii. 3), which was
acted in 1600, three years before the publication of
the recast Barons' Wars: 'A creature of a most
perfect and divine temper^ one in whom the
humours and elements are peaceably met, without
emulation of precedency.' And see the Mirror
for Magistrates, Part I., 1575 : —

sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 381

If wee consider could the substance of a man
How he composed is of Elements bj kinde, etc.

And The Of tick Glass of Humours : ' Wee must
know that all natural bodies have their composition
of the mixtu7'e of the Elements^ fire, aire, water,
earth.' See also Nares's Glossary and Richardson's
English Dictionary^ in v. ' Elements.' . . . Im-
itation of one poet by another might have been much
more reasonably charged by any editor or com-
mentator who had happened to notice the following
similarity between a speech of Antony's and another
passage in the Barons' Wars : —

I tell you that which you yourselves do know ;

Shew you sweet Caesar's 'wounds^ poor, poor dumb mouths,

Would ruffle up your spirits, and put^ tongue
In every vjound of Caesar, etc. (iii. 2.)

That now their wounds Qwtih mouthes euen open'd wide)
Lastly inforc'd to call for present death,
That wants but Tongues^ your Swords doe giue them breath.
(Book ii. St. 38, ed. 1603.) " ]

794. To part the glories of this happy day. —
That is, to distribute to each man his due share in
its glories. The original stage direction is '-^Exeunt
omnes"

1

INDEX.

a-, an-, 65, 559.

abide, 326,

abjects, 497.

aboard, 65.

aby, 326.

addressed, 299.

advantage, 357.

afeard, 244.

aim, 57.

alderliefest, 54.

alight, 724.

alive, 65.

all over, 175.

aloft, 65.

along by, 200.

and (an), 89.

apace, 738.

apparent, 194.

approve, 147.

apt, 344-

aptitude, 344.

are, 129, 559.

arrive, 54.

art (noun), 614.

art (verb), 559.

as, 44, 57. >77. 328, 407.

703-
ascended (is), 373.
aside, 65.
assembly, 246.
astir, 251.
as well, 56.
at, 507.
Ate, 362.
attempered, 561.
augurer, 194.
aweary, etc., 559.
awful, 671.
ay, 54, 529-
aye, 674.
ay me 1 278.

bait, 528, 529.
base, 147.

bastard, 177.
bate, 528, 529.
battle, 670.
bay, 348, 528, 529.
be, 559-
be (are), 67.
be-, 389. 459-
bear hard, 105.
become, 389
been, 268.
beest, 559.
befall, 6g, 707.
behaviors, 45.
beholden, 389.
believe, 389.
belike, 459.
belong, 389.
beloved, 389.
beseech, 389.
beshrew, 186.
beside, 347.
bestow, 139, 787.
betimes, 668.
betoken, 389.
bid, I.
bills, 713.
bloods, 56.
break with, 182.
bring, 106.
business, 495.
bustle, 266.
busy, 266.
by, 124, 344.

can, I, 559.
carrion, 177.

cast, 122.

cause, I.
cautel, 177.
cautelous, 177.
censure, 374.
ceremonies, 16, 194.
chafe, 54.
chance, 69.

charactery, 314.
charm, 209.
check,''559.
cheer, 324.
chew, 57.
chide, 568.
clean, no.
clever, 347.
color, 147.
come home, 104.
comfort, 211.
command, 278.
commend, 278.
commerce, 524.
compact, 351.
companion, 577.
company, 577.
con, 559.
conceit, 142.
condemn to, 524.
condition, 205.
consort, 703.
constant, 262, 309.
content, 518.
continence, 54.
contrite, 259.
contrive, 259.
council, 262, 497-
counsel, 262, 497.
countenance, 54.
court, 304
courteous, 304.
courtesies, 304.
creature, i8i.
cunning, 559.
curse, 186.
curst, 186.
curtsies, 304.

damage, 147.
danger, 147.
dare, i.
dear, 348, 559.
dearth, 348.

3^4

Index.

decent, i6.

deck, i6.

decorate, i6.

degrees, 147.

deliberate, 347.

deliver, 347.

dent, 425.

desire, 306.

die, 16.

difference, 45.

dint, 425.

direct, 299.

disserve, 524.

distract, 589.

distraught, 589.

do, I, 16, 147, 229, 386,

502.
doom, 328.
dist, do'st, 734.
dotage, 304.
dote, 304.
dreadful, 671.
dress, 299.
drown, 128.

early, 493.
earn, 258.
earnest, 258.
-ed, 16, 246.
either, 227.
element, 130.
emulation, 259.
endure, i.
enforce, 376.
enlarge, 518.
ensign, 714.
entertain, 787.
envy, 187.
ere, 493.
errand, 493.
errant, 493.
erroneous, 493.
error, 493.
esteem, 57.
eventide, 362.
every, 674.
exigent, 675.
exorcise, 221.
expedition, 597.

factious, 129.
fall, 177. 358, 507. 707'
fantasy, 194.
far, 48, 7t6.
fare thee, 760.
farther, 45, 716.
fasten, 671.
fault, 120, 143.
favor, 54, 130, 160.
favored, 54.
fear, 190, 244.
fearful, 671.

fellow, 577.
feverous, 130.
fire, 345.
firm, 107.
fleer, 129.
flourish, 282.
fond, 304.
fondling, 304.
forbid, I.
force (of), 619.
fore, 45.

foreign-built, no.
forth, 45, 716.
fray, 266.
freedom, 306.
friend (to, at), 341.
friends (friend), 352.
from, no, 194.
funerals, 745.
further, 45.

garden, 143.
ge-, 389-
general, 147.
genius, 155.
get me, 277.
get thee gone, 260.
give sign, 679.
give way, 259.
given, 66.
glare, 109.
go along by, 200.
gore, 425.
go to, 530,
greet, 241.
griefs, 129, 435.
grievances, 129.
guess, 389.

had best, 468.

had like, 57.

had rather, 57, 550.

hail, 241.

hale, 241.

hand (at, in, on), 507.

handkerchief, 218.

hap, 69.

happen, 69.

happy, 69.

hark thee, 760.

have, I.

havoc, 362.

hawk, 362.

he, 54.

health, 533.

heap, 109.

hear, i.

hearse, 421.

heart's ease, 67.

heir, 194.

help, I.

hence, 624.

her, 54.

herd, 128.

herself, 56.

hie, 139.

hilts, 725, 775.

himself, 56, 598.

hind, 128.

hinder, 161.

his, 54.

hit (it), 54.

home, 624.

home-, no.

hour, 255.

however, 103.

humor, 105, 205, 240,

560.
hurl, 233.
hurtle, 233.

I, 54-

I (me), 122.
idle, 177.
improve, 186.
in, 6s, 122, 743.
incorporate, 134.
indirection, 550.
-ing, I.

instance, 506.
insuppressive, 177.
intend, i.
is, 559-
It, 54-

Itching, 524.
i' the, sa-
lts, 54.
itself, 54, 56.
-ius, 6r, 501, 559.

jealous, 50, 57-
jig. 577-

keep, 211.
ken, 559.
kerchief, 218.
kin, 559.
kind, 559.
kindred, 559.
king, 559.
knave, 646.
know, 559-

lament, 740.
lease, 362.
leash, 362.
let, I, 362.
Lethe, 348.
let's, 707.
liable, 67, 248.
lie along, 333.
lie^ 54-

Index.

385

^58-

light, 724.
like, 57, 85
likely, 57.
likes, 105.
listen, 497.
lover, 186, 259
lusty, 54.

main, 194.

make, 1,680, 724, 793.

make for, 294.

make to, 294.

manner, 45.

map, 407.

market, 524.

marry, 78.

mart, 524.

masters, 401, 636.

may, i.

me, 89, 470.

mercantile, 25, 524.

merchant, 524.

merely, 45

mettle, 102.

mind, 533.

mistook, 46.

moe, 158, 745.

mourn, 740.

must, I.

my, 89, 205.

myself, 54, 56, 598.

napery, 407.
napkin, 407.
neckerchief, 218.
needs, 67.
news, 589.
nice, 523.
niggard, 623.
nor, 227.
not, 1 8 1,
nuptial, 745.

observe, 538.
occupation, 89.
o'clock, 65.
of, 50, 129.
on, 50, 65.
once, 612.
o' nights, 65.
only, 56.
ope, 89.
or, 227.
orchard, 143.
order, 354.
o' the, S3,
other, 78.
others, 633.
ought, I.
ourself, 56.
out, 8.

over, 282.
overwatched, 633.
owe, I.
owed, I.
own, I.

palter, 177.

paramour, 186.

passion, 46.

path, 161.

patience, 46.

perforce, 619.

piety, 345.

pious, 345.

piteous, 345.

pitiful, 345.

pity, 345-

plucked, 160.

portent, 246.

power, 127, 497.

prefer, 788.

prepare, 255.

present, 57.

pretend, 65.

prevent, 147, 161, 295,

70S.
pnck, 351, 490.
proceed, 60.
proceeding, 248.
prodigious, 122.
produce to, 354.
promised forth, 97.
proof, 147, 691.
proper, 12, 45.
provender, 497.
puissance, 497.
puissant, 303.

question, 376, 595.
quite from, 194.

rascal, 550.
rathe, 54.
rather, 54.
redress, 299.
regard, 374.
remorse, 147.
render, 248, 348, 370.
repeal, 305.
reprove, 186.
resolved, 338.
respect, 48, 374, 550.
retentive, 126.
rived, 107.
Rome, 56.
rostrum, 372.
rote, SS9-
round, 147.
ruminate, 57.
rumor, a66.

scandal, 50.

scandalize, 50.

see, 1.

self, 54, 56-

sennet, 39.

sense, 497.

separate, 443.

set on, 225, 668.

sever, 443.

several, 443.

shake, 348.

shall, I, 181, 238, 248,

350. 357. 490. 619-
she, 54.
shew, 186.

should, 56, 181, 238, 550.
shrew, 186.
shrewd, 186, 342-
shrewishness, 186.
sick, 209.
sign, 679.
sin, 16.
sing, 16.
-sion, 246
sirs, 636.
sit thee, 760.
sleep, 362.
slight, 493, 521.
slip, 362.
slips, 362.
smatch, 780.
so, 15, 44, 57. »47. 407-
sooth, 267.
sore, 186.
sorrow, 186.
sorry, 186.
sort, 211.
sound, 128.
sour, 186.
speak, 646.
springtide, 362.
stale, 50.
state, 50.
statue, 246.
stay, 708.
stirred, 251.
strain, 694.

strange-disposed, no.
strew, 186.
stricken, 46, 252.
struck, 46, 252.
strucken, 252, 348.
succeed, 228.
success, 228, 734, 735.
such, 57, 177.
sue, 282.
suit, 282.
euite, 282.
sway, 107, 352.
swoon, 82, 83, 128.

tag-rag, 87.
taste, 497-

386

Index.

tempered, 561.

temple, 362.

tenure, 598.

terror, 190, 194.

than, 56, S74.

th and y, 674.

that, 15, 44, 57, 147, 177,

398-
thatch, 16.
themselves, 56.
then (than), 56.
there's, 135.
these, 57.
these many, 485.
thews, 124.
thigh, 124.
think, 147, 189.
this, 57.

this present, 57.
this (time), 130.
thorough, 338.
thoroughly, 338.
thou, I.
through, 338,
throughfare, 338.
throughly, 338.
thunderstone, 120.
thyself, 56.
tide, 362.

tidings, 589.
time, 362.
-tion, 246.
to, I, 57. SSo, 633.
toward, 53.
true man, 87.

unaccustomed, 194.
undergo, 130.
undeservers, 524.
unmeritable, 493.
upon, 588.

vile, 574-
villam, 186.
virtue, 209.
void, 277.
vouchsafe, i.

ware, 670.
warn, 670.
wary, 670.
was, 559.
wash, 332.
weep, 16.
well, 503.

were, wert, best, 468.

when? 143.

whe'r, 16, 194, 744, 757.

which, 368, 376.

while (the), 738.

whiles, 67.

whirl, 233,

whit, 181.

wight, 181.

will, I, 181, 238, 248,

490.
wis, see ywis.
wit, 435, 560.
with, 124, 344, 362, 612.
withhold, 398.
worship, 503.
worth, 503.
wrote, 46.

y-, 389.

ye, 344-

ye (the), 674.

yearn, 258.

yon, yond, yonder,

65-
you, 344-
yourself, 56.
ywis, 389.

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