Limt^. 
 
 *^\
 
 ■^ 
 
 \
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ILLUSTKATED IX 
 
 2 IJbiloIaijical Conuncntarn 
 
 JULIUS CiESAR. 
 
 GEORGE L. CRAIK, 
 
 PROFESSOR OP HISTORY AND OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN 
 queen's college, BELFAST. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLT. 
 
 1869.
 
 JOIIV C'Htl.US AND SON, PHINTERS.
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pago 
 PllOLEGOMENA. 
 
 Shakespeare's Personal History .... 1 
 
 Shakespeare's Works 3 
 
 The Sources for the Text of Shakespeare's Plays . 9 
 The Shakespearian Editors and Commentators . 25 
 The Modern Shakespearian Texts . . .27 
 
 The Mechanism of English Verse, and the Prosody 
 
 of the Plays of Shakespeare . . . .30 
 Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar . . . .44 
 
 Philoloqical Comment aet, with Text oe the 
 
 Plat 61
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Iir this attempt to illusti'ate the English of Shake- 
 SPEAEE, I would be understood to have had a twofold 
 purpose, in conformity with the title of the volume, 
 which would naturally be taken to promise something of 
 exposition in regard both to the language or style of 
 Shakespeare and to the English Language 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 professes to 
 be specially occupied. I will begin, therefore, by stating 
 what I have done, or endeavoured to do, for the Play of 
 
 JtXLITJS C-ESAE. 
 
 I have given what I believe to be a more nearly au- 
 thentic 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. Erom whatever cause it has happened, the pas- 
 sages 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 manner in which it is to be set to rights is 
 for the most part both pretty obvious and nearly certain. 
 There are perhaps scarcely so many as half-a-dozen lines 
 of any importance which must be given up as hopelessly 
 incurable or even doubtful. It is, I should think, of all
 
 VI PBEFACE, 
 
 the Plays, by much the easiest to edit ; both the settle- 
 ment of the text and its explanation are, I conceive, 
 simpler than would be the case in am' other ; and it is 
 for that reason partly that I have selected it for the pre- 
 sent 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 a night is this!" in the 
 speech numbered 117 ; the insertion of "not" after " Has 
 he," in that numbered 402 ; and the transposition of the 
 two names Lucilius and Lucius in that numbered 521. 
 The first and second of these three corrections are of 
 little moment, though both, I think, clearly required; 
 tlie third I hold to be both of absolute certainty and 
 necessity, and also of considerable importance, affecting 
 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 subse- 
 quent speech (571) which, curiously enough, had never 
 been previously noticed by anybody, but has been silently 
 ignored and departed from even by those of the modem 
 editors who have professed to adhere the most scru- 
 pulously to that original text. 
 
 For the rest, the present text differs in nothing ma- 
 terial from that which is found in all tlie modern editions, 
 unless it be that I have restored from the First Folio 
 one or two antiquated forms, — such as ^em for tliem, and 
 moe in several places for more, — wliich have been usually 
 supprctised, although 'ewi remains familiar enough in our
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 colloquial speech, or at any rate is still perfectly intelli- 
 gible and unambiguous, and moe is sometimes the only 
 form that will suit the exigencies of the verse. 
 
 A merely mechanical innovation in the typographical 
 exhibition of the text will at once catch the eye. The 
 present is, I suppose, the first edition of a Play, in 
 any language, with the speeches numbered. Possibly 
 it may be the fi.rst time that any one has thought of 
 counting the speeches in a Play.* In that case, the re- 
 sult arrived at, that there are about eight hundred separ- 
 ate utterances, or divisions of the dialogue, long and 
 short, in the drama here examined, may be received as 
 one of some little curiosity and interest. At any rate, 
 such a method as I have adopted seems to afford the only 
 available means for distinct and expeditious reference. 
 It has a double advantage over the mere pagination ; first, 
 inasmuch as a speech is usually much shorter than a 
 page, and, secondly, inasmuch as the division into speeches 
 is the same for all editions. The only other plan that 
 has been, or that, apparently, can be taken, is to make 
 shift with the ordinary division into Acts and Scenes. 
 This is what has been commonly done in the various 
 verbal indexes to Shakespeare. But to be told simply 
 
 * Since the first publication of the present work, however, Mr J. 
 A. Ellis has obligingly forwarded to me copies of editions of Shake- 
 speare's Tempest and Macbeth, in what is called the Phonetic spell- 
 ing, brought out under his care at London in 1849, in which the 
 speeches in each Scene are separately numbered for the purpose of re- 
 ference in the notes, mostly explanatory, but sometimes critical or 
 conjectural, appended at the foot of the page. But, besides that there 
 is no general summation, the text of Shakespeare is not fully given 
 in these editions, so that even the process of adding up the speeches 
 in the several scenes would not give us the entire number in the Play. 
 The plan of one continuous enumeration throughout would seem to 
 be simpler and more convenient for all purposes.
 
 Mil PEEFACE. 
 
 that a word or plirase whicli we are in search of occurs 
 ill a certain Scene of one of Shakespeare's Plays is in 
 most cases only a degree better than being told that it 
 may be found somewhere within the compass of the Play. 
 "We may be often half an hour in finding it. The Scenes 
 in Shakespeare (the notation of which, by the bye, is for 
 the most part the work of his modern editors) continually 
 run out to dimensions which make this kind of reference 
 a mere tantalizing and tormenting mockery. In any 
 liberally printed library edition, such as those of Mr 
 Knight or Mr Collier, with a very small proportion of 
 the space taken up bj'^ foot-notes, it is not unusual to find 
 that the Scene to which we have been directed extends 
 over twenty or thirty pages. Even in the present edition 
 of Julius CcBsar, compactly printed as it is, several of the 
 Scenes cover seven or eight pages. In the entire Play, 
 filling about sixty pages, there are only eighteen Scenes, 
 so that the average throughout is considerably above 
 three pages for each. Even Jennens's more scientific 
 division gives us only twenty-six Scenes for this Play, 
 making an average of above two of our pages for each ; and 
 that of Ilanmer, which Warburton follows, and which is 
 the most minute tliat has been proposed, gives us only 
 thirty-seven, each therefore extending over a space of not 
 much less than two of our pages on an average. This is 
 the utmost amount of definiteness attainable by the 
 system of reference to Scenes. Tlie enumeration of the 
 speeches reduces the average space which a reference in- 
 cludes to about the thirteenth part of a page. As there 
 are about eight hundred speeches in the Play, and only 
 eighteen Scenes (according to the common division), it 
 follows that the one method of reference must be on the 
 whole between forty and fifty times more precise, and 
 consequently more serviceable, than the other.
 
 PBEFACE. IX 
 
 Mrs Cowden Clarke's Concordance io Slialisi^ere is 
 a noble monument of the fair compiler's loving patience 
 and carefulness ; its correctness, especially when we take 
 into account the multitude of mere figures and symbols 
 which there was nothing in the sense or the context to 
 protect from perversion, is wonderfid ; it would be hard 
 to name a printed volume either of more difficult or of 
 more faultless execution ; it is rare to find a single figure 
 or letter wrong ; it may be questioned if any equally 
 elaborate work, literary or of an}' other kind, so remark- 
 able for exactness and freedom from error, ever before 
 proceeded from the female head or hand ; even as it 
 stands, it is invaluable, and in a manner indispensable, 
 for critical purposes. But it is much to be wished that 
 before it was undertaken there had existed an edition of 
 the Plays with the speeches numbered throughout, as in 
 the present edition of the Julius Ctxsa)', to which it might 
 have been accommodated. "We should in that case have 
 found whatever we might seek by its assistance in about 
 a fiftieth part of the average time that it now takes us.* 
 
 * "Wliat is stated in the above paragraph -vnll explain my prefer- 
 ence for the plan of enumeration I hare adopted over that subsequently 
 employed by Herr Karl Elze in his edition of Hamlet (in the original 
 English), -n-ith notes in German, published at Leipzig, in 1857. He 
 has simply di^^idcd each page of the Play into so many paragraphs of 
 equal, or nearly equal, length (he makes 241 of them in all) ; and, in a 
 complimentary reference to my book, ■which had reached him while 
 his own was passing through the press, he observes that I had made 
 an attempt to furnish a similar indispensable requisite for the philo- 
 logical study of Shakespeare : — "einen Yersuch liierzu hat allerdings 
 ganz kiirzlich Professor Craik in Belfast gemacht." It ■will be seen 
 that Herr Elze's method would not serve the more general purpose 
 ■which I had in ■view. I have not seen Meyer's edition of the Julius 
 C(esar ■which he notices as having been published at Hamburg in the 
 same year 1857, and the numbering in which he says is quite useless, 
 inasmuch as it does not admit of being transferred to other editions.
 
 XU PEEFACE. 
 
 it puts forward no pretensions to a similar completeness, 
 or thorougliness, in respect of any further purpose. It 
 is far from embracing the whole subject of the Unglish of 
 Shal-es^eare, or making any attempt to do so. It is 
 merely an introduction to that subject. In the Fro- 
 legomena, nevertheless, I have sought to lay a foundation 
 for the full and systematic treatment of an important de- 
 partment of it in the exposition which is given of some 
 principles of our prosody, and some peculiarities 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 com- 
 pleteness in what it may contain in reference to the 
 history and constitution of tjje language generally, or of 
 particular classes of words and constructions. Among 
 the fragments, or specimens, however — for they can be 
 nothing more — which occur in it of this land of specula- 
 tion are a few which wiU be found, perhaps, to carry out 
 the examination of a principle, or the survey of a gi'oup 
 of connected facts, farther than had before been done ; 
 such as those in the notes on Merely (4'5), on //* (54), 
 on Shreiv and Shrewd (186), on Statue (216), on Deliver 
 (348), on the prefix Be (390), on The in combination 
 with a comparative (675), etc.* 
 
 • I may .add a remark on the word business, noticed in 496. 
 Whether our busy be or be not the same with the German blise, signi- 
 fying wicked (even as hotli wicked and weak have been supposed to be 
 identical with quick, — Vid. 2G7), and whatever may be the origin of 
 the French besognc and besoin, and the Italian bisogna and bisogno, 
 there can, I conceive, be no doubt that our business, wliich never (at 
 least in modern English) means the condition or quality of being busy, 
 u really nothing more than the French besoins or besognes, formerly
 
 PEEFACE. Xlll 
 
 This new edition has been revised throughout with the 
 greatest care ; and it will be found to present a consider- 
 able number of alterations, additions, and improvements 
 as compared with the former. A difference between the 
 two conspicuous at first sight is that the Text of the 
 Play is now much more conveniently placed for all the 
 purposes of such a book by being incorporated with the 
 Commentary.'* 
 
 biisoigyies, — as, for example, in the Stat, of the 2oth of Edward I. 
 {Conjirmatio Chartarmn) : — "les aides e les mises les queles il nous 
 unt fait avaunt ces houres pur nos guerres e autres busoignes ;" or in 
 an answer of Edward III. to Archbishop Stratford in 1341 : — " Queu 
 chose le Eoi ottreia. Mes iL dit, q'il voleit que les busoignes touchantes 
 I'estat du Roialmc et commune profit fussent primes mys en exploit, et 
 puis U ferroit exploiter les autres" [Rot, Par. II. 127). The ness, 
 therefore, is here not the substantival affix, but merely a misrepresenta- 
 tion of the final letters of the word in its plural form. " Go about your 
 business" is go about your (own) needs, occasions, affairs. We speak 
 of the busij bee, and of a busy man, or a man who is busij, but we do 
 not (now at least) call the condition or the natural quality the busi- 
 ness of either the man or of the bee. "What we understand by a man's 
 business is (grammatically or logically) something of the same kind, not 
 with his goodness, but rather with his goods. The irregular or ex- 
 ceptional pronunciation of the word business would alone indicate some 
 pecidiarity of origin or formation. Business, pronounced in two syl- 
 lables, is evidently not a word of the same kind with heaviness, for in- 
 stance, pronounced in three. 
 
 * I have retained, it will be observed, in speech 363 the emendation 
 of Mr Collier's ISIS, annotator — "A curse shall light upon the loins of 
 men." But since this part of the volume has been printed off I con- 
 fess that I have, although at first very much opposed to it, been more 
 and more impressed, the more I consider it, in favour of a new reading 
 for which a strong case has been made out, and urged upon my 
 attention, by a distinguished literary fi-iend, — "A curse shall fall 
 upon these impious men." In the first place, on looking at the 
 passage, every reader will, I think, be struck with something incon- 
 gruous and improbable in the denunciation^ here of a corse upon 
 men generally, — upon the whole human race, — let it be regarded with 
 reference whether to the occasion, and to the circumstances on which 
 Antony founds it, or to the calamities about to fall merely upon Italy
 
 XIV PEErACE. 
 
 Althougli very mucli disinclined to depart from estab- 
 lislied usage in sueli a matter as mere expression, I have 
 
 to wliich tlie prophecy immediately narrows itself. It is an exordium 
 followed up by no adequate amplification or specification, but rather 
 the contrary. These men — the murderers of his friend Cajsar — and not 
 either the limbs or the loms of mankind universally — must, one would 
 say, have been uppermost at such a moment in his mind and in his im- 
 passioned words. "Without something more, however, such general 
 considerations as this would hardly entitle us to touch the passage. 
 There would be no end of conjectural emendation if it were permitted 
 us, in the text of Sliakcspeare or of any other writer, to disturb an au- 
 thorized or accepted reading on no other ground than that it might, 
 as we may think, be improved. This is the sort of wild disor- 
 ganizing work with which so many would be reformers and restorers, 
 male and female, busy themselves, without so much as a suspicion, in 
 many cases, of the natm'e of a single canon or principle of critical 
 science, or that such a science exists. But here, secondly, we 
 have, almost universally admitted, what is the almost indispensable 
 preliminary to any attempt at emendation, — a manifest flaw in the 
 ordinary reading. " Limbs of men " pleases nobody, or hardly any- 
 body. Thirdly and lastly, then — for, if that can bo made out, nothing 
 more in the way of mere conjecture is possible, — can it be .shown to be at 
 all probable that the supposed words " these impious men," if written 
 by Shakespeare, would or might have been mistaken by the printer of 
 the First Folio for what he has given us — "the limbs of men.^" It is 
 not necessary to assume that he has adhered to the exact spelling of 
 what he believed himself to have before him in his copy or manuscript. 
 "What he set up as "the limbs of" may have seemed to him to be 
 written "the Limbes of." Only, now, suppose farther that the writing 
 was somewhat close or crowded, or ratlier that it appeared to him to 
 be so, and it would not be very unlikely that what he took for a " the" 
 followed by a capital L, with its final curve running possibly below the 
 line, was really a "these," written, of course, with a long/; and then 
 it would not bo difficult for him, thus misled, to cimvcrt the " impious " 
 into " imbsof," or " imbcs of." It may be thought that some confirma- 
 tion is lent to this conjecture by the fact that Zachary .Jackson, the 
 printer, who published ill 1818 a work entitled "A Few Concise Examples 
 of Seven Iluudnil Errors in Shakespeare's Plays, now corrected and 
 elucidated" (reprinted the following year under the title of " Shake- 
 ppcare's fjcnius Justified,"), proposes to read "these imps of men." 
 I am not blind to the bearing which this ingenious emendation, if
 
 PBEFACE. XV 
 
 in tlie new editions both of the present and of another ele- 
 mentary philological work felt it indispensable to abandon 
 the ordinary fashion of designating our national speech as 
 Saxon or Anglo-Saxon before, and as English only since, 
 the Norman Conquest. I cannot call to mind another cus- 
 tomary form of words which involves so much at once of un- 
 founded or questionable assumption and of positive mis- 
 statement as this. The common name for the language 
 among the people themselves always has been, not Saxon, 
 but English. It was so before the Conquest, as it is so still. 
 ]\Iodern philologists, who call the earlier form of it Saxon 
 or Anglo-Saxon, do so on the assumption that the portion 
 of the population distinguished as the Saxons had a lan- 
 guage of their own, known by their own name, before 
 they left the continent for Britain, and that the common 
 language of England before the Norman Conquest was 
 identical with that. But nothing of all this is either 
 proved or probable. There is much more reason for be- 
 lieving that the language was called English than that it 
 was called Saxon on the continent as well as afterwards 
 in Britain. In fact, there is no reason at all for sup- 
 posing that it was ever at any time commonly or properly 
 known as Saxon. There is, indeed, a Germanic dialect 
 which philologists have baptised Old Saxon, or Continental 
 Saxon, and of which their system supposes what it calls 
 
 it -were held to be established, might be alleged to have upon the hy- 
 pothesis that has been proposed in the Prolegomena in regard to the 
 authority belonging to the corrections of Mr Collier's manuscript an- 
 notator. Can he, it may be argued, have had the author's or any 
 other authentic copy of the Plays before him, if he has passed over so 
 important a restoration as ought to have been made here ? Of this 
 particular passage, at least, he could not be supposed to have had any 
 such copy. On (fhe other hand, however, this necessary consequence 
 would obviously tell as much against the proposed reading as that docs 
 against the hypothesis.
 
 XVI PEEFACE. 
 
 Anglo-Saxon, or the Saxon of England, to be a modifica- 
 tion ; but tbe one name is as much a modem invention as 
 the other; we have no remains of this so-called Old 
 Saxon of so early a date by several centuries as the first 
 settlement of the Angles and Saxons in Britain ; and, al- 
 though it and what is called the Saxon of England were 
 no doubt nearly related, we have no evidence Avhatever 
 either that the former was the mother and the latter the 
 daughter, or even that their relationship was that of 
 parent and child at all. So far, however, Ave have gra- 
 tuitous assumption only, or little more. In what comes 
 next Ave have doAvnright contradiction and absurdity. If 
 the language was Saxon before the Norman Conquest, 
 hoAv did it or could it come to be English after that 
 catastrophe ? Hoav is it that it is English now ? The 
 only effect that the Conquest had, or possibly could han^e, 
 upon it was to make it, not more, but less purely, less 
 exclusively^ English than it was before. 
 
 G. L. C. 
 
 Queen's College Belfast ; 
 March, 1859. 
 
 P.S. Leaving the preceding note on pp. xiii and xiv 
 as it stood, I take the opportunity of a revised impres- 
 sion to say here that I do not now feel the incongruity 
 of the curse in the passage under consideration being 
 made to extend to the whole human race, nor do I think 
 that Antony's prophecy can be fairly afiii'med to narroAV 
 itself in Avhat innncdiately follows to the calamities about 
 to fall merely upon Italy. I revert, therefore, to my 
 origijial prefereucc for the reading of the Collier Eolio i — 
 " A curse shall light upon the loins of men." 
 
 November, 1863.
 
 ENGLISH OF SHAKESPEARE, 
 
 ETC. 
 
 PEOLEGOMENA. 
 
 I. SHAKESPEARE'S PERSONAL HISTORY. 
 
 "William Shakespeaee was born at Stratford-upon- 
 Avon, in the county of "Warwick, in April 1564. His 
 baptism is recorded in the parish register as having taken 
 place on "Wednesday the 2Gth, and the inscription on his 
 tomb makes him to have been in his fifty -third year when 
 he died on the 23rd, of April 1616 ; his birth-day, therefore, 
 cannot have been later than the 23rd. It was more pro- 
 bably some days earlier. It is commonly assumed, never- 
 theless, to have been the 23rd, 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 
 Arderue, or Arden. The Ardens were among the oldest 
 of the county gentry ; many of the Shakespeares also, 
 who were numerous in AYai'wickshii-e, were of good con- 
 dition. The name in provincial speech was probably 
 sounded Shackspeare or Shacksper ; but even in the 
 poet's own day its more refined or literary pronunciation 
 seems to have been the same that now prevails. It was 
 certainly recognised as a combination of the two words
 
 2 PEOIEGOMEXA. 
 
 Shake and Spear. His own spelling of it, however, in a 
 few instances in which that, our only kno^m fragment of 
 his handwriting, has come down to us, is SJiakspere. 
 
 John Shakespeare appears to have followed the busi- 
 ness 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 fii'st 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, pos- 
 sessed of some houses in Stratford, as well as of a small 
 freehold estate acquired by his marriage ; and his con- 
 nexion with the Arden family would itself bring him con- 
 sideration. His marriage probably took place in 1557. 
 He lived tiU 1602, and his wife till 1608. Of eight 
 childi'en, 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 un- 
 able to write his name ; all his signature in the books of 
 the corporation is his cross, or mark ; but there can be 
 no doubt that the son had a grammar-school education. 
 He was in all probability sent to the free-school of his 
 native town. After 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 
 vrife, Anne Hathaway, of Shottery, in the neighbourliood 
 of Stratford, was about eight years older than himself; 
 children soon followed, — first a daughter, then twins, a 
 Bon and daughter ; and this involvement may be conjec- 
 tured to have been what drove him to London, in the 
 necessity of finding some way of supporting his fiimily 
 which required no apprenticesliip. He became first an 
 actor, then a writer for the stage. Already by the year
 
 WORKS. 3 
 
 1589 he had worked his way up to be one of the proprie- 
 tors of the Blackfriars Theatre. But he seems to have 
 always continued to look upon Stratford as his home ; 
 there he left his wife and children ; he is said to have 
 made a point of re\dsiting his native town once a year ; 
 and thither, after he had, by the imceasing 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 Stratford, and settled there on a pro- 
 perty which he had purchased, about the year 1612 ; 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 IMr Thomas Quiney, 
 in February 1616. But he had lost his only son, who 
 was named Hamnet, in 1396, when the boy was in his 
 tAvelfth year. Shakespeare died at Stratford, as already 
 mentioned, on the 23rd of April 1616 ; and he lies in- 
 terred in the parish church there. 
 
 His wifa survived till August 1623. Both his daugh- 
 ters had families ; — Susanna, a daughter, who was twice 
 married ; Judith, three sons ; but no descendant of the 
 great poet now exists. The last was probably Elizabeth, 
 daughter of Dr Hall, who became the wife first of Thomas 
 Kash, Esq., secondly of Sir John Barnard, and died 
 without issue by either husband in February 1670. Xor 
 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 married, 
 and to have had issue. 
 
 II. SHAKESPEAEE'S WOEKS. 
 
 The first work of Shakespeare's which was printed with 
 his name was his poem entitled Venus and Adonis, in 
 stanzas consisting each of an alternately rhyming quatrain 
 B 2
 
 4 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 followed by a couplet. It appeared in 1593, with a 
 Dedication to the Earl of Southampton, in which the au- 
 thor styles it the first heir of his invention. This was 
 follo^^ed in 1594; by Tlie Bape of Lticrece, in stanzas of 
 seven lines, one rhpning 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 Ventis and Adonis was thrice 
 reprinted in Shakesj)eare's lifetime ; the Lucrece, five or 
 six times. 
 
 His other works, besides his Plays, are The Fassionate 
 Pilgrim, a small collection of poems, first printed in 
 1599 ; and his Sonnets, 154 in number, with the poem 
 entitled A Lover's Complaint (in the same stanza as the 
 Lucrece), which appeared 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 Pythagoras," says a writer named Erancis Meres 
 in his Falladis Tamia, published in 1598, " sa the sweet 
 witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-tongued 
 Shakespeare : witness his Venus and Adonis, 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 manuscript while they were withheld 
 from the press. 
 
 The first edition of Shakespeare's collected Dramatic 
 "Works appeared in 1623, or not till seven years after his 
 death, in a folio volinne. A second edition, with numerous 
 verbal alterations, but no additional Plays, was brought 
 out in the same form in 1632. In 1661 appeaivd a third 
 edition, also in folio, containing seven additional Plays. 
 And a fourth and last folio reprint followed in 1685. 
 
 The Plays that are now commonly received as Shake- 
 Bpeare's arc all those that are contained in the Eirst Eolio,
 
 TV^ORKS. 5 
 
 being thirty-six in number, together with Pericles, Prince 
 of Tyre, one of the seven added in the Third Folio. Be- 
 sides the other six in that edition, — entitled The Tragedy 
 of Locrine, The First Part of the Life of Sir John Old- 
 castJe, The Chronicle History of Thomas Lord Cromwell, 
 The London Prodigal, The Puritan, and A Yorkshire 
 Tragedy, — there have been ascribed to Shakespeare in 
 more recent times the old Plays of The Peign of King 
 JEdward the Third and Tlie Tragedy of Arden of Fevers- 
 ham ; and by certain German critics those of The Comedy 
 of George-a-Green (generally held to be the "vvork of 
 Robert Grreene), The Comedy of Mucedorus, The Birth of 
 Merlin, and Tlie Merry Devil of Edmonton. Some of these 
 are among the humblest productions of the hvunan intel- 
 lect ; 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 ex- 
 travagant spirit of system may go. Pinally, the Play of 
 TJie Two Noble Kinsmen, commonly included among those 
 of Beaumont and Pletcher, has been attributed in part to 
 Shakespeare ; it is described on the title-page of the first 
 edition, published in 1634, as written by Pletcher 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 genuine, 
 eighteen are known to have been separately printed, some 
 of them oftener than once, in Shakespeare's lifetime : — 
 Titus Andronicus, Pomeo and Juliet, Love's Labour's Lost, 
 Midsummer Night's Dream, Mtcch Ado about Nothing, 
 Merchant of Venice, Lear, Troilus and Cressida, Pericles, 
 Bichard the Second, First Part of Henry the Fourth, 
 Second Part of Henry the Fourth, Bichard the TJiird (all 
 substantially as we now have them) ; Hamlet, in three 
 editions, two of them greatly differing the one from the 
 other; and, in forms more or less unlike our present 
 copies, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Henry the Fifth,
 
 6 PEOLEGOMEKA. 
 
 and the Second and Third Parts of Henry tlie Sixth, under 
 the titles of " The Tirst Part of the Contention betwixt 
 the Houses of York and Lancaster," and " The True Tra- 
 gedy of Eichard Duke of York " (often referred to as 
 " The Second Part of the Contention"). Nor is it improb- 
 able that there may have been early impressions of some 
 others of the Plays, although no copies are now known. 
 The Tragedy of Othello was also printed separately in 1622. 
 AH 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 Polio of 1623 : — The 
 Tempest, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Measure for 
 Measure, The Comedy of Errors, As You Like It, The 
 Taming of the Shrew', AlVs TFell that Ends Well, Twelfth 
 Night, A Winter's Tale, King John, The Pirst Part of 
 Henry the Sixth, Henry the Eighth, Coriolaniis, Timon of 
 Athens, Julius Coesar, 2Iacheth, Antony and Cleopatra, and 
 Cymheline. 
 
 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. Tlie earliest 
 existing editions of Romeo and Juliet, Richard the Second, 
 and Richard the Third, bear the date of 1597. Tlie dates 
 of the other Quartos (except Othello) all range between 
 1598 and 1609. It appears, however, from Prancis Meres'a 
 book, mentioned above, that by the j^ear 1598, when it was 
 published, Shakespeare liad already produced at least the 
 following Plays, several of Avhich, as we have seen, are 
 not known to have been printed till they were included a 
 quarter of a century afterwards in the Pirst Polio : — The 
 Two Oentlemen of Verona, The Comedy of Errors, Love's 
 Labour's I^ost, Midsummer Night's Dream, The Merchant 
 of Venice, Richard the Second, Richard the Third, Henry 
 the Fourth, King John, Titus Andronicus, Romeo and 
 Juliet, and another called Love's Labour's Won, which
 
 "WOEES. 7 
 
 has been commonly supposed to be that now entitled 
 Airs Well that Ends Well* And Meres cannot be 
 
 * But the play of All's Well that Ends Well seems to have its pre- 
 sent title built 01' wrought into it, and as it ■were incorporated 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 : 
 "WTiate'er the coui-se, the end is the renown." 
 
 And again in the first Scene of the Fifth Act : — 
 
 "All's well that ends well yet." 
 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 circling around 
 the phrase in question, or continually returning 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 
 allusive to such a title as Love's Labour's Wo7i. 
 
 Another notion that has been taken up is that the Play now known 
 as The Tempest is that designated Love's Labour's Won by Meres. 
 This is the theory of the Peverend Joseph Hunter, first brought for- 
 ward in a " Disquisition on the Tempest," published in 1841, and re- 
 produced in the Second 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 de- 
 fended, it has probably not met with much acceptance. One would as 
 soon believe with Ulriei that The Tempest is the very latest of all 
 Shakespeare's Plays, as with Mr Himter that it is one of his earliest, — 
 "nearly the first in time," he calls it, "as the first in place [meaning 
 as it stands in the original collective edition], of the dramas which arc 
 wholly his." 
 
 May not the true Love's Labour's Won be what we now call T/ie 
 Taming of the Shreio? That Play is founded upon an older one called 
 The Taming of A Shrew ; it is therefore in the highest degree improb- 
 able that it was originally produced under its present name. The de-
 
 b PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 held to profess to do more than to instance some of the 
 works by which Shakespeare had by this time in his opin- 
 ion proved himself the greatest English writer that had 
 yet ai'isen both in tragedy and in comedy. 
 
 Six years before this, or in 1592, E,obert Greene, ac- 
 counted by himself and others one of the chief lights of 
 that early morning of our drama, but destined to be soon 
 completely outshone and extinguished, had, perhaps with 
 some pi'esentiment of his coming fate, in a pamphlet 
 which he entitled " Greene's Groatsworth of Wit," thus 
 Tented his 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 
 
 signotion 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 previonsly bore 
 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 of viooing," to read "in this case of icinning," thus giving 
 us what may stand, in want of a bettei", for a rhyme to the " if I fail 
 not of my cunning" of the line following? The lines are pretty eyi- 
 dently intended to rhyme, 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 Gremio that he had promised Pctrn- 
 cio, if he would become suitor to Katharine, that they " would be con- 
 tributors, 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, Ilortcnsio's congratulation 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 wliich 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 tlie piece, are — 
 
 " 'Twas I won the wager, though you \_Lucentio'] hit the white ; 
 And, being a winner, God give you good night !" 
 
 Tiio title of Love's Labour's Won, it may be added, might also com- 
 prehend tlie underplot of Lucentio and Eianca, and even tliat of Hor- 
 tensio and tlic Widow, tliough in the case of the latter it might rather 
 be supposed to be the lady who should be deemed the winning party.
 
 TUE OLD TEXTS. U 
 
 is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best 
 of you ; and, being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is, in 
 bis own conceit, the only Shake-scene in a country." This 
 would seem to imply, what is otherwise probable enough, 
 that up to this time Shakespeare had chiefly made himseK 
 known as a dramatic writer by remodelling and improving 
 the works of his predecessors. He may, however, have 
 also even ali'eady 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 authen- 
 ticity of which has been more or less questioned. The 
 Three Parts of King Henry the Sixth (especially the 
 Pii'st) and Titus Andronicus, if they are by Shakespeare, 
 have very little of his characteristic manner ; Fericles has 
 come down to us in so corrupted a state that the evidence 
 of manner and style is somewhat imsatisfactory, though 
 it is probably 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 suspected, is 
 also evidently by another hand.* 
 
 III. THE SOUECES FOR THE TEXT OF SHAKE- 
 SPEARE'S PLAYS. 
 
 Prom what has been stated it appears that, of the en- 
 tire number of thirty-seven Plays which are usually re- 
 ga,rded as Shakespeare's, there are qvXj fourteen (including 
 Hamlet) of which, in what may be called their completed 
 state or idtimate form, we possess impressions published 
 in his lifetime; together -^'ith. four others (reckoning the 
 Second and Third Parts of Henry the Sixth to be the 
 same with the Two Parts of the Contention) of which in 
 
 * See a paper by Mr Spcdding, in the Gentleman's Magazine for 
 August 1850, and various subsequent communications by Mr Hicksou 
 and otliers in the Notes and Queries.
 
 10 PEOLEGOMENA. 
 
 an immature and imperfect state we have sucli impres- 
 sions. Of one otlier, Othello, we haA^e also an edition, 
 printed indeed after the author's death, but apparently 
 from another manuscript than that used for the First 
 Tolio. For the remaining eighteen Plays our oldest 
 authority is that edition. And the only other sources 
 for -n-hich any authority has been claimed are; 1. The 
 Second, Third, and Fourth Folios ; 2. A manuscript of 
 the First Part and some portions of the Second Part of 
 Henry the Fourth, which is believed to be nearly of 
 Shakespeare's age, and of which an impression has been 
 edited by Mr Halliwell for the ShaJcesiJeare Society ; 3. 
 The manuscript emendations, extending over all the 
 Plays, with the exception only of Fericles, made in a 
 handwriting apparently of about the middle of the seven- 
 teenth 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 Quartos which appeared in Shakespeare's lifetime 
 are one and all deformed by too many evident and uni- 
 versally 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. Some 
 of these Quartos are e^ddently unauthorized publications, 
 hurriedly brought out, and founded probably in the main 
 on poi'tions of the dialogue fraudulently furnislied by 
 the actors, with the lacunae filled up perhaps from notes 
 taken by reporters in the theatre. 
 
 The First Folio (1G23) is declared on the title-page to 
 be printed " according to the true original copies ; " and 
 it is probable tliat for most of the Plays eitlier the 
 author's autograph, or, at any rate, some copy belouging
 
 THE OLD TEXTS. 11 
 
 to the theatre, was made use of. The volume was put 
 forth in the names of two of Shakespeare's friends and 
 fellow-actors, John Heminge and Ilenrie ConJell, who 
 introduce Avhat 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 surviving 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 continue, addressing the Eeader, "you 
 were abused vnth divers stolen and surreptitious copies, 
 maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealths of in- 
 jurious impostors that exposed them [that is, exposed them 
 for sale, or published them], even those are now offered 
 to your view cured and perfect of their limbs, and all the 
 rest absolute in their numbers,* as he conceived them. 
 Who, as he was a happy imitator of natiu'e, was a most 
 gentle expresser of it : his mind and hand went together ; 
 and what he thought he uttered -ndth that easiness, that 
 we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers." 
 
 Here we have certainly, along with an emphatic and 
 undiscriminating condemnation of all the preceding im- 
 pressions, a distinct declaration by the publishers of the 
 present volume that they had the use of the author's 
 manuscripts. It is the only mention to be found any- 
 where of any of the Plays being in existence in his own 
 
 * This Latinism has no special reference, as has sometimes been sup- 
 posed, to the verse ; it means merely perfect in all their parts, or in all 
 respects. So Sir Roger Twysden, in the Preface to his " Historise 
 Anglicantc Scriptores Decem" (1652), speaking of the pains that had 
 been taken to ensure the accuracy of the text, says : — " Nihil unquam 
 apud nos, tanti saltern conaminis, . . . adeo omnibus numeris ahsolu- 
 ttim prodiisse memini."
 
 12 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 handwriting. 'No doubt can reasonably be entertained 
 that such of his papers as were in possession of the Black- 
 friars Theatre, to which Heminge and Condell, like him- 
 self, belonged, were placed at their disposal. And we 
 may assume that from these the edition of 1623 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 through- 
 out 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 print- 
 ing and editing of which there is no example in the pub- 
 lished popular literatiu'e of that age, least of all in the 
 di'ama, 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 imper- 
 fect and unnatiu-al substitute for the proper mode of 
 publication by means of the Stage. The writer, it would 
 seem to have been thought, could not well claim as a 
 work what called itself only a i^Zfly. Nor do the publish- 
 ers in the present instance make profession of having 
 bestowed any special care upon the editing of their vol- 
 ume ; what they say (or more probably what some regular 
 author of the day, Ben Jonson, as it has been conjectur- 
 ed, 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 edi- 
 tions to be introduced to the world, and the only positive 
 assertion Avhich it can be held to involve is, that tlie 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 tlie author himself had su])erintended 
 the publication. Of correction of the press there is not 
 cue word. That, we may be pretty certain, was left
 
 THE OLD TEXTS. 13 
 
 merely to the printer. It is not likely that the two play- 
 ers, who, with the exception of" this Dedication and Pre- 
 face, to which their names are attached, are quite unknown 
 in connexion with literature, were at all qualified for such 
 a function, which is not one to be satisfactorily discharged 
 even by persons accustomed to \\'ritiug for the press with- 
 out some practice. 
 
 But this is not all. The materials which Heminge and 
 Condell, or whoever may have taken charge of the print- 
 ing of the First Folio, had at their command 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 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 with- 
 out a blot, and the fact is an interesting one in reference 
 to Shakespeare's habits of composition ; 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 gi-ave 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 theati-es, it can hardly 
 have been that such of them as were not quite worn out 
 should not have sufiered more or less of injiuy, and have 
 become illegible, or legible only with great difficultv, in 
 various passages. Nor may the handwriting, 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
 
 14 PSOLEGOMENA. 
 
 oue not to be read running, or unlikely to trip a reader 
 to wliom 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 typogra- 
 phical 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 Pobo, pro- 
 duced nine years later. Nevertheless it is obviously, to 
 the most cursory inspection, very far from ^vh.ixt would 
 now be called even a tolerably 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 pal- 
 pably blundering. The most elementary proprieties of 
 the metrical arrangement are violated in innumerable 
 passages. In some places the verse is printed as plain 
 prose ; elsewhere, prose is ignorantly and ludicrously ex- 
 hibited in the guise of verse. Indisputable and undis- 
 puted errors are of frequent occiu'rence, so gross that it 
 is impossible they could have been passed over, at any rate 
 in such numbers, if the proof-sheets had imdergone any 
 systematic revision by a qualified person, however rapid. 
 They were probably read in the printing-office, with more 
 or less attention, when there Avas time, and often, when 
 there was any hurry or prcssiu-e, 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 mani- 
 festly the head workman in the printing-office. 
 
 On closer inspection we detect other indications. In 
 one instance at least avc have actually the names of the 
 actors by whom the Play was pei'formed preGxed to their
 
 THE OLD TEXTS. 15 
 
 portions of the dialogue instead of those of the dramatis 
 personcB. Mr Knight, in noticing this circumstance, ob- 
 serves that it shows very clearly the, text of the Play in 
 which it occurs {Much Ado About Nothing) 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 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 evi- 
 dently been set up from the proriipter's book, and the 
 proof-sheets could not have been read either by the au- 
 thor or by any other competent person. 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 some- 
 thing 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 nonsensical, 
 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 iu signification ; in other cases, what is indispens- 
 able 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 sup- 
 position that the compositor had been left to depend 
 upon a manuscript which was imperfect, or which could 
 
 * Library Sliakspcre, II. 366.
 
 IG PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 not be read. It is remarkable that deformities of tliis 
 kind are apt to be found accumulated at one place ; there 
 are as it were nests pr eruptions of tbem ; they run into 
 constellations ; showing that the 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 OAvn invention or conjectiu'al 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 
 knoAATi of the source from Avhich they may have been de- 
 rived. The prevailing opinion has been that they are 
 nothing more than the conjectural emendations of the 
 unknown editor. Some of them, nevertheless, have been 
 adopted in every subsequent reprint. 
 
 The manuscript of Henry tlie Fotirth (belonging to 
 Sir Edward Bering, Bart., of Surrenden in Kent) is cu- 
 rious and interesting, as being certainly either of Shake- 
 speare's own age or close upon it, and as the only known 
 manuscript copy of any of the Plays of nearly that anti- 
 quity. But it appears to have been for the greater pai't 
 merely transcribed from some printed text, with such 
 omissions and modifications as were deemed expedient in 
 reducing the two Plays to one.f The First Part of 
 
 * 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 40ih No. of the North British Review (for February 1854). It 
 is there shown, from an exaniiiiatian of the First Act of Macbeth, that 
 the number of readings in the First Folio (including arrangements of 
 the verse and punctuations affecting the sense) which must be admitted 
 to be cither clearly wrong or in the highest degree 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. with the Quarto of
 
 THE OLD TEXTS. 17 
 
 Henry ilie Fourth had been printed no fewer tlian five 
 times, and the Second Part also once, in the lifetime of 
 the author. The Bering MS., however, exhibits a few 
 peculiar readings. One of them is remarkable. 
 
 For the lines, in the speech by the King witli whicli 
 the Jfirst Part opens, commonly given as — 
 
 " No more the thirsty entrance of this soil 
 Shall daub her lips ^-ith her own children's blood " — 
 
 we have in the MS. — 
 
 " No more y= thirsty bosome of this land 
 Shall wash her selfe in her owne childrens bloud." 
 
 Here are in the compass of two lines no fewer than fi.ve 
 variations ; — hosom for entrance, land for soil, icash for 
 daub, self for lips, in for icith, — the last being, moreover, 
 a correction deliberately interlined over an erasure of 
 the other reading. 
 
 The substitution of icash for daub is not without im- 
 portance, the more especially as daub is commonly assumed 
 to be the old reading, whereas it is really, I believe, 
 nothing more than a modem conjectural emendation of 
 the damb (or damp r) of the early copies. 
 
 But the most important variation is that of bosom for 
 entrance. Now, in the first place, although entrance is 
 the reading of the First and Second, and, I beKeve, also 
 of the Third Folio, another reading, entrails, is not, as 
 has been sometimes supposed, the conjecture of Mr 
 Douce, but is found in the Fourth Folio. I confess, 
 however, that I can make nothing of entrance, and, if 
 possible, still less of entrails. We are told that the 
 " entrance of this soil" means the, mouth of this soil. If 
 a single instance can be produced from any writer, not 
 confessedly insane, in which the mouth either of a real 
 person, or of something represented as a living person, is 
 
 1613 leaves no doubt of that being the printed edition on which it was 
 formed.
 
 18 PROLE ao:ME>"A. 
 
 styled his, lier, or its entrance, I shall be satisfied. Such 
 a mode of expression, it appears to me, would at once 
 destroy the personification. "We speak, indeed, of the 
 entrance of a cavern, for the mouth of a cavern ; but here 
 we are not calling a mouth an entrance, but an entrance 
 a mouth : the proper prosaic name of the aperture by 
 which we enter the cave is its entrance, which, when we 
 animate the cave, we change into its mouth ; but the op- 
 posite process is, I apprehend, unknown either in prose 
 or in verse, in written eloquence or in the loosest colloquial 
 speech. Any one who should talk of the entrance of a 
 man, or of a lion, or of a dog, meaning the mouth, woxild 
 not be imderstood. So in Latin we have the entrance to 
 a river very often called its as, but nowhere the mouth 
 of any living creature, or of any poetical personification, 
 ever spoken of as its ostium* 
 
 Nothing, also, can be more indisputable than that the 
 two hers — "her lips" (or herself) and "her own children's 
 blood" — must have the same reference. This is what 
 syntax and common sense alike imperatively demand. 
 Steevens's notion, therefore, that by "her lips" may be 
 meant the lips oi peace, mentioned four lines before, would 
 be untenable, were there no ot|ier objection to it than 
 that it would, apparently, give the her of " her lips" one 
 reference and the her of " her own children" another. 
 
 The lips and the children must plainly be understood 
 to be eitlier those of the soil, or those of that, whatever 
 it may have been, the designation of which has given rise 
 to the various readings, entrance, entrails, entrants, as 
 proposed by Steevens, bosom, &c. One's first inclination 
 is to suppose some personage animating or presiding over 
 
 * The only interpretation of entrance having the least plausibility 
 appears to me to be that tlirown out by Theobald : — " I presume the 
 sense is, ' blood-tliirsty invasion of this country shall no more stain it 
 with its own children's gore.' But is tliis idea conveyed by thirsty 
 entrance?" Letter to "Warburton, dated 13 .January 1730, in Nicliols's 
 Illustrations of the Literary History of the EightcoUh Century, II. 402.
 
 TUE OLD TEXTS, 19 
 
 the soil ; and lience such conjectures as that of jMonk 
 Mason, — "the thirsty Erhwys of this soil," — which has 
 heeu adopted in many editions, and which might mean 
 that the Spirit of Discord sliould no more daub either 
 her own lips with the blood of her o\va. children, or the 
 lips of the soil with the blood of the children of the soil. 
 The circumstance of the word Erinnys being a Shake- 
 spearian ctTTUs Xeyufiet'oy, or not elsewhere found, would 
 make it more likely to liave been mistaken by the printer. 
 So also might be interpreted "the thirsty Genius of this 
 soil," as proposed in the Fii'st Edition of the present work. 
 
 But to both these readings there is this objection, 
 which I apprehend must be held to be fatal. On the one 
 hand, the epithet thirst i/, standing where it does, seems 
 clearly to bind us to understand that the lips described 
 as to be no more daubed, or moistened, were those, not 
 of the soil, but of the imaginary personage (the Erinnys 
 or the Genius) to whom the performance of the act of 
 daubing is attributed ; on the other, the people could not 
 be called the children of either the one of these person- 
 ages or the other. And I do not think it would be pos- 
 sible to find any other mythological personage who could, 
 more than either of these two, be represented as at once 
 the owner of the lips and the parent of the children. It 
 may be added that against " the thirsty Genius" this ob- 
 jection is of double force ; inasmuch as. Genius being 
 always conceived to be a male, the "her lips" (as well as 
 " her own children") would in that case have of necessity 
 to be understood as signif)-ing the lips (and children) ol 
 the soil, — which would leave the epithet "thirsty" ^vith- 
 out meaning. 
 
 I do not think, therefore, that there is auy other 
 known reading which can compete with that of the 
 Bering MS. The hosom of the soil, or ground, or earth, is 
 one of the commonest and most natural forms of figurative 
 expression, and is particularly natural and appropriate 
 c 2
 
 20 PE0LEQ0ME?7A. 
 
 ■«'lien the soil or grovmd is represented, as here, under 
 the personification of a mother Avith her children. So 
 Friar Lawrence says, in Romeo and Juliet, when setting 
 out from his ceU, basket in hand, at the dawn of day, to 
 gather his " baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers" — 
 
 " The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb ; 
 What is her burpng grave, that is her womb ; 
 And from her womb childi-en of divers kind 
 We, sucking on her natural bosom, find." 
 
 Then for the au.thority on which this reading rests, the 
 probability surely is that the deviation from the common 
 printed text was not made on mere conjecture; great 
 pains appear to have been taken with the MS.; it is 
 carefully corrected throughout in the handwriting of Sir 
 Edward Dering, who died in 1644 ; and he may very weU 
 be supposed to have had access to other sources of in- 
 formation, both documentary and oral, in addition to the 
 printed books. A strong case might be made out for 
 such a MS. as being entitled to quite as much deference 
 as any of the early printed copies, quarto or folio. 
 
 Tlie first or outside page of the manuscript from which 
 this Play had been originally set up may very probably 
 have been in a somewhat dilapidated state when it w^as 
 put into the hands of the printer. In addition to the 
 five variations in the two lines that have been quoted, 
 it is doubtful whether in the first line of the speedh 
 we ought to read " wmi with care" or " icorn Avith care ;" 
 the latter is the correction of Mr Collier's MS. annotator, 
 and certainly it would seem to be more natural for the 
 King to speak of his anxieties as Avearing him doAvn and 
 wasting him aM^ay than as merely blanching his com- 
 plexion. 
 
 It is only upon this supposition of the old text of the 
 Plays having been printed from a partially obliterated or 
 otherwise imperfectly legible manuscript, Avhich, as we 
 see, meets and accounts for other facts and peculiar ap
 
 TUE OLD TEXTS. 21 
 
 pearauecs, 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 ex- 
 plained. The volume came into JMr Collier's hands in 
 1849, and was some time afterwards 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 calculated to amount in all to at least 
 20,000. Here is, then, a most elaborate revision — an 
 expenditure of time and painstaking which surely could 
 only have been prompted and sustained by a strong feel- 
 ing 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 prefer- 
 able reading. The much more probable presumption is 
 that he followed some guide. Such a labour 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 the means of collating it with and cor- 
 recting 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 transcending the 
 compass of conjectui-al emendation, unless it had taken 
 the character of pure invention and fabrication. Such 
 in particular are the entire lines inserted in various pas- 
 sages 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. Upon this supposition this un-
 
 2)i PEOLEGOMEXA. 
 
 known annotator would have outdone all that has been 
 accomplished in the way of brilliant and felicitous con- 
 jecture by all other labourers upon the Shakespearian 
 text taken together. On the other hand, some of his 
 alterations are in all probability mistaken, some of his 
 new readings apparently inadmissible ; * and many pas- 
 
 * Among sucli must be reckoned undoubtedly the alteration, in Lady 
 Macbeth's passionate rejoinder {Macbeth, i. 7), — 
 " Wliat 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-meaning ; for there is no possi- 
 ble sense of the word boast which ■will answer here. But in this case 
 the corrector was probably left to mere conjecture in making his se- 
 lection between the two words ; 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 aunotator's own hand- 
 wi'iting which Mr Collier gives, the two e's of the word briefehj are as 
 like o's as e's, and what ilr Collier reads bleeding might he equally 
 read blooding, if that were a word. Would Mr Collier thus correct 
 Tennyson's 
 
 "Were not his words delicious, I a beast 
 To take them as I did > " 
 
 Edwin Morfis. 
 
 There cannot, I conceive, be a question that a celebrated passage in 
 another Play has been seriously injured by the same mistake which 
 the annotator has made in the instance 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 ewr and the even 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." I'he error 
 here, if it be one, however, has apparently been left uncorrected by 
 Jlr Collier's MS. annotator.
 
 THE OLD TKXTS. 23 
 
 sages which there can hardly be a doubt are coiTupt are 
 passed over by him ■without correction. All this becomes 
 intelligible vipon oiir hypothesis. Woi'king possibly upon 
 the same manuscripts (whether those of the author or 
 no) from which the printed text had been set up, he 
 would with more deliberation, or by greater attention 
 and skill, succeed in deciphering correctly much of the 
 difficult or faded writing which had baffled or been mis- 
 read 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 wi'ong as right. The manu- 
 scripts of which he had the use — whether the author's 
 original papers or only transcripts from them — probably 
 belonged to the theatre ; and they might now be in a 
 much worse condition in some parts than when they were 
 in the hands of Heminge and Condell in 1623. The an- 
 notator would seem to have been connected with the 
 stage. The numerous and minute stage directions which 
 be 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.* 
 
 * I do not remember having seen it noticed that the theatres 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 Advertise7)ient stands prefixed to an edition of Pericles, in 
 12mo, published in 1734, and professing to be " printed for J. Tonson, 
 and the rest of the Proprietors : " — " "Whereas R. "Walker, and his ac- 
 complices, 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 
 jirinted from copies made use of at the Theatres ; I therefore declare, 
 in justice to the Proprietors, whose right is basely invaded, as weU 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. "V\'. Chet-
 
 24 PEOLEaOMEJTA. 
 
 ]Mr Collier has given an account of his annotated Folio 
 in a volume which he published in 1852, entitled " Kotes 
 and Emendations to the text of Shakespeare's Plays, 
 from Early Manuscript Corrections in a Copy of the 
 Folio, 1632." A second edition of this volume appeared 
 in 1853 ; and meanwhile he had also given to the world 
 the same year an edition, in one volume, of " The Plays of 
 Shakespeare : The Text regulated by the Old Copies, 
 and by the recently discovered Folio of 1G32, containing 
 early Manuscript Emendations." But the most distinct 
 statement that he has made upon the subject is that con- 
 tained in a subsequent volume entitled " Seven Lectures 
 on Shakespeare and Milton, by the late S. T. Coleridge ; 
 A List of all the MS. Emendations in Mr Collier's Folio, 
 1632; and an Introductory Preface;" 8vo, Lon. 1856. 
 Of this volume the account of the annotations, headed 
 " A List of Every Manuscript Note and Emendation in 
 Mr Collier's Copy of Shakespeare's Works, Folio, 1632," 
 is spread over about 120 pages. Instead of 20,000, how- 
 
 AVOOD, Prompter to Ilis Majesii/'s Company of Comedians at the 
 Theatre Royal in Drury-Lane." On the subject of this Chetwood 
 sec Malonc's Inquiry into the Shakespeare Papers, pp. 350 — 352. In 
 Tonson's similar editions of The History of Sir John Oldcastle and 
 The Tragedy of Locrine (both declared on the title-pajfc to be " By 
 Mr William Shakespcar"), he speaks in like manner of himself " and 
 the other Proprietors of the Copies of Shakespear's Plays," and com- 
 plains tliat " 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 (JEdipus King of Thehes 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 I'roprietors." It 
 would appear from Nicliols'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 pro- 
 perty 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).
 
 4 
 EDITORS AND COMMENTATORS. 25 
 
 ever, as originally stated (see Notes and Emendations, 
 Introduction, p. iv.), the alterations here enumerated can- 
 not much exceed 3000. Those omitted ai'e probably 
 (though nothing to that effect is said) only corrections 
 of what are called literal errors, or such misprints as ra- 
 ther disfigure than injure the sense. Among them, 
 however, are such as the alteration of damhe into dauh in 
 the passage quoted above from the beginning of the First 
 Part of Henry the Fourth, which is mentioned in the 
 Notes and Emendations, though passed over in the List. 
 It would be more satisfactory if everything were given.* 
 
 IV. THE SHAKESPEARIAN EDITORS AXD 
 COMMEXTATORS. 
 
 The four Folios were the only editions of the Plays of 
 Shakespeare brought out in the seventeenth century ; 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 auj^thiug has been conjectured, as to what 
 superintendence any of them may have had in passing 
 through the press. The eighteenth centmy produced a 
 long succession of editors : — Eowe, 1709 and 1714 ; Pope, 
 1725 and 1728 ; Theobald, 1733 and 1740 ; Hanmer, 1744; 
 Warburton, 1747; Johnson, 1765 ; Steevens, 1766; Capell, 
 1768; Eeed, 1785; Malone, 1790; Eann, 1786—1794. 
 The editions of Hanmer, Johnson, Steevens, Malone, and 
 E«ed were also all reprinted once or oftener, for the most 
 
 * Nearly the same views in most respects which I had announced 
 in the North British Review in 1854, both on the Shakespearian text 
 and on the new readings supplied by Mr Collier's MS. annotator, are 
 ably advocated in an article in the Edinburgh Revieio, No. 210, for 
 April 1856. The writer refers to a paper, which I have not seen, in 
 a number of the North American Bevieio for the preceding year, as 
 containing " by far the best and most thoroughly reasoned discussion" 
 of the subject with which he had met.
 
 2G PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 part witli enlargements ; and all the notes of the preceding 
 editions were at last incorporated in what is called Eeed's 
 Second Edition of Johnson and Steevens, which appeared, 
 in 21 volumes 8vo, in 1803. This was followed in 1S21 by 
 what is now the standard Variorum edition, also in 21 vol- 
 umes, which had been mostly prepared by Malone, and was 
 completed and carried through the press by his friend IMr 
 James Boswell. "We have since had the various editions 
 of Mr Knight and Mr Collier, from both of whom, in addi- 
 tion to other original research and speculation, both biblio- 
 graphical and critical, we have received the results of an 
 examination of the old texts more careful and extended 
 than they had previously been subjected to. New critical 
 editions by the late Mr Singer and by Mr Staunton have 
 also appeared Avithin the last few years ; and there are 
 in course of publication the Cambridge edition by Mr 
 Clark and Mr Wright, and another since commenced by 
 Mr Dyce, besides the magnificent edition by Mr Halli- 
 well, which is to extend to 20 volumes folio. 
 
 Tue list of commentators, however, includes several 
 other names besides those of the editors of the entire 
 collection of Plays ; in particular, U^yton, in " Ci'itical 
 Observations," ITl^G ; Dr Zacliary Orey, in " Critical, His- 
 torical, and Explanatory Notes," 1755 ; Heath, in " A 
 Eevisal of Shalcespeare's Text," 1765 ; Kenrick, in a 
 " Eeview of Johnson's Edition," 1765, and " Defence of 
 Eevicw," 1766 ; Ti/ricliitt, in " Observations and Conjec- 
 tures," 1766 ; Dr Bicliard Farmer, in " Essay on the 
 Learning of Shakespeare," 1767 ; Charles Jennens, in an- 
 notated editions of" King Lear," 1770,— "Othello," 1773, 
 — "iramlct," 1773,— " Macbeth," 1773,— and "Julius 
 CaBsar," 1774 ; John Monch Mason, in " Comments on the 
 Last Edition of Shakespeare's Plays," 1785, and " Fur- 
 ther Observations," 1708 ; A. Beckett, in " A Concord- 
 ance to Shakespeare, to which are added three hundred 
 Notes and Illustrations," 1787; Bitson, in "The Quip
 
 THE MODEEX TEXTS. 27 
 
 ■ Modest," 1781, and " Cursory Criticisms," 1792 ; JVhiler, 
 in "A Specimen of a Commentary," 1794 ; George Chal- 
 mers, in " Apology for the BeKevers in tlie Shakespearian 
 Papers," 1797, and " Supplemental Apology," 1799 ; 
 Douce, in " Illustrations of Shakespeare and of Ancient 
 Manners," 1807 ; Reverend Josepli Hunter, in " Illustra- 
 tions of the Life, Studies, and Writings of Shakespeare," 
 1S44 ; and Reverend Alexander Dyce, in " Eemarks on 
 Mr Collier's and Mr Knight's Editions," 184-1, and "A 
 Few Notes on Shakespeare," 1853. To these names and 
 titles may be added the Reverend Samuel Ayscougli's 
 "Index to the Eemarkable Passages and Words made 
 use of by Shakespeare," 1790; "A Complete Verbal Index 
 to the Plays of Shakespeare," in 2 vols., by Francis Tiviss, 
 JEsq., 1805 ; and Mrs Coicden Clarice's " Complete Con- 
 cordance to Shakspere," 1847. Finally, there may be 
 mentioned Archdeacon I^ares's " Glossary of AYords, etc., 
 thought to require lUustTation in Shakespeare and his 
 Contemporaries," 1822.* 
 
 V. THE MODERX SHAKESPEARIAN TEXTS. 
 
 No modem editor has reprinted the Plays of Shake- 
 speare exactly as they stand in any of the old Folios or 
 Quartos. Neither the spelling, nor the punctuation, nor 
 the words of any ancient copy have been retained un- 
 altered, even with the correction of obrioiis errors of the 
 Press. It has been imiversally admitted by the course 
 that has been followed that a genuine text is not to be 
 obtained without more or less of conjectural emendation : 
 the only difference has been as to the extent to which it 
 shoidd be carried. The most recent texts, however, 
 beginning with that of jMalone, and more especially those 
 of ]\Ir Knight and of Mr Collier (in his eight volume 
 edition), have been formed upon the principle of adhering 
 
 * Of this important ■work a new edition, ■\\'ith large additions, has 
 lately been announced as in preparation.
 
 28 PEOLEGOMENA. 
 
 to the original copies as closely as jDossible; and they 
 have given us back many old readings which had been 
 rejected by preceding editors. There has been some dif- 
 ference of opinion among editors of the modern school in 
 regard to whether tlie preference should be given in 
 certain cases to the Pirst Folio or to some previous 
 Quarto 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 
 abandoned by everybody. 
 
 But, besides the correction of what are believed to be 
 errors of the Press in the old copies, the text of Shake- 
 speare has been subjected to certain modifications in all 
 the modern reprints : — 
 
 1. The spelling has been reduced to the modem stand- 
 ard. The original spelling is certainly no part of the 
 composition. There is no reason to believe that it is even 
 Shakesj)eare'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 orthography ; but, apparently, it was not 
 a matter about which Shakespeare troubled himself. In 
 departing from the original editions here, therefore, we 
 lose nothing tliat is really his. 
 
 2. The actual form of the word in certain eases has 
 been modernized. This deviation is not so clearly defens- 
 ible upon principle, but the change is so slight, and the 
 convenience and advantage so considerable, tliat it may 
 fairly be licld to be justifiable nevertheless on the ground 
 of expediency. The case of most frequent occurrence is 
 that of the word tlian, which with Shakespeare, as gener- 
 ally with his contemporaries and predecessors, is always 
 then. " Greater then a king " would be intolerable to 
 the modern car. Then standing in this position is there-
 
 THE MODEKX TEXTS. 29 
 
 foi'o quietly converted by all the modem editors into our 
 modern than. Another form wliicla was unquestionably 
 part of the regular phraseology and grammar of his day 
 is what is sometimes described as the conjunction of a 
 plural nominative with a singiJar verb, but is really only 
 a peculiar mode of inflecting the verb, by which the plural 
 is left undistinguished from the singular. Shakespeare 
 and his contemporaries, although they more usually said, 
 as we do, " words sometimes give off"ence," held them- 
 selves entitled to say also, if they chose, " words some- 
 times gives offence." But here again, so much ofience 
 would be given by the antiquated phraseology to the 
 modern ear, accustomed to such an apparent violation of 
 concord only from the most illiterate lips, that the detri- 
 mental s has been always suppressed in the modern edi- 
 tions, except only in a few instances in which it happens 
 to occur as an indispensable element of the rhyme— as 
 when Macbeth, in his soliloquy before going in to murdei 
 the sleeping King (ii. 1) 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), 
 
 " Both our remedies 
 Within thy help and holy physic lies." 
 
 A few contractions also, such as ujjon't, orCs 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 Shakespeare 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 incontro- 
 vertibly wrong. In Julius Ccesar, for instance {ii. 1), 
 they have upon this principle changed "the Jirst of
 
 30 PaOLEGOMElS'A. 
 
 Marcli" iuto "the ides of March" (149), and afterwards 
 '■'■fifteen days" into '■'■fourteen days" (154). It is evi- 
 dent, 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 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 The mechanism, of verse is a thing altogether distinct 
 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 com- 
 mon to verse of every degree of musical quality, — to the 
 roughest or harshest (provided it be verse at all), as Avell 
 as to the smoothest and sweetest. Music is not an abso- 
 lute necessity of verse. There are cases in which it is 
 not even an excellence or desirable ingredient. Yerse is 
 sometimes the mure effective for being unmusical. The 
 mechanical law or form is universally indispensable. It 
 is that which 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 language. In 
 all modern European languages, at least, it is dependent 
 Tipon tlie system of accentuation established in the lan- 
 guage, 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 anvangement of accented and un- 
 accented syllables. 
 
 The Plays of Shakespeare are all, with the exception 
 only of occasional couplets, in unrhymed or what is called 
 Blank verse. This form of verse was first exemplified in
 
 THE VEllSE. 31 
 
 English in a translation of the Fourth Book of theiEneid by 
 the unfortunate Lord Surrey, who was executed in 1547 ; 
 it was first employed in dramatic ■nriting by Thomas 
 Sackville (afterwards Lord Buckhurst and Earl of Dorset) 
 in his Gorhodiic (or Ferrex and Forrex), produced in 
 1561 ; and, although not much used in poetical com- 
 positions of any other kind, either translated or original, 
 tni IMilton brought it into reputation by his Faradise Lost 
 in the latter part of the following century, it had come 
 to be the established or customary verse for both tragedy 
 and comedy before Shakespeare began to Avrite for the 
 stage. Our only legitimate English Blank verse is that 
 commonly called the Heroic, consisting normally in a 
 succession of five feet of two syllables each, with the 
 pressure of the voice, or accent, on the latter of the two, 
 or, in other words, on the second, foiu'th, sixth, eighth, 
 and tenth syllables of each line. After the tenth syllable, 
 an vmaccented syllable, or even two, may be added without 
 any prosodical efiect. 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 import- 
 ant 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 transference 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 violation of the law of the 
 verse, or what is properly to be called a licence. 
 
 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 syEables is truly accented, will be accounted 
 to be accented for the purposes of the verse. The -viy of 
 enemy, for instance, or the in- of intercept, is always so
 
 32 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 accounted in heroic verse, in virtue of tlae true accent 
 upon en- and upon -cej)f ; but in dactylic or anapastic 
 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 -mi/ stands removed from 
 the en-, or the in- from the -cept. This, in so far as re- 
 gards 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 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, some- 
 times at the end. Practically, the efl:ect 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 Horace 
 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 commonly 
 stated or assumed to be so) that the syllables alternating 
 Avitli the accented ones should be unaccented. Any or 
 all of them may be accented also. 
 
 4. Further, in any of the places Avhieh may be occupied 
 by an unaccented syllable it is scarcely an irregularity to 
 introduce two or even more such iniaccentcd syllables. 
 The effect may be compared to the prolongation or dis- 
 persion of a note in music by what is called a shake. Of 
 course, such a construction of verse is to be resorted to 
 sparingly and only upon special grounds or occasions ; 
 employed liabitually, or very frequently, it crowds and 
 cumbers tlic rliythm, and gives it a quivering and feeble 
 character. But it can nowhere be said to be illegitimate,
 
 THE TERSE. 33 
 
 — although, in ordinary cii'cumstances, 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 what the intermixtme 
 of dactyls and spondees is to the Greek or Latin Hex- 
 ameter. They are none of them of the natu.re of what is 
 properly denominated a poetic licence, which is not a 
 modification but a violation of the rule, permissible only 
 upon rare occasions, and altogether anarchical and de- 
 structive when too frequently committed. The first three 
 of our fom modifications are taken advantage of habitu- 
 ally 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 supposed 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 Ileasiire for Measure, ii. 2, as it 
 stands in the First Folio, — 
 
 " Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man." 
 
 Here, it wiU be observed, we have not a hemistich (by 
 which we mean any portion of a verse perfect so far as it 
 extends, whether it be the commencing or concluding 
 portion), but something which professes to be a complete 
 verse. The present 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 con-
 
 34 PE0LEG0ME2fA. 
 
 siderable number of verses of this description. In many 
 of these, in all probability, the text is corrupt ; the want- 
 ing syllable, not being absolutely indispensable to the 
 sense, has been dropt out in the copj'ing or setting up by 
 some one (a common 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 pause by which the reading of the 
 line is to be broken. This notion appears to have received 
 the sanction of Coleridge. Eut 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 per- 
 form the function which would thus be assigned to it. 
 IS'or 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 oiu" 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 any- 
 thing like rhythm out of the above quoted words, — 
 
 " Than tlie soft myrtle. But man, proud man " ? 
 
 If this be verse, there is nothing that may not be so de- 
 signated. 
 
 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 Measv/re would stand — 
 
 " Merciful heaven ! 
 Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous holt,
 
 THE TERSE. 3-5 
 
 Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak 
 
 Than the soft myrtle. 
 
 But man, proud man, 
 
 Dress'd in a little brief authority : " &c. 
 
 This is notliiug more than what has beeu done with the 
 words "Merciful heaven!" which all the modern editors 
 print as a hemistich, but which both in the Pirst Folio 
 and in all the others is made to form a line with the 
 words that immediately precede ; thus ; — 
 
 " Nothing but thunder : Mercifull heauen." 
 
 "What mainly gives its character to the English Heroic 
 line is its being poised upon the tenth syllable. 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 Alexandi'ine, or Line of twelve syllables, 
 the characteristic of which is that the pressure is upon 
 the sixth and the twelfth. "Without this twelve syllables 
 will no more make an Alexandrine than they will a com- 
 mon Heroic line. There are in fact many Heroic lines 
 consisting of twelve syllables, but still, nevertheless, 
 resting upon the tentb. 
 
 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, however, 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 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 occasionally the exhi- 
 bition of a similar feat. Instead of a strongly accented 
 syllable, one taking only a very slight accent, or none at 
 D 2
 
 36 THOLE GOMEKA. 
 
 all, IS made to fill the tenth place. One form, indeed, of 
 this peculiarity of structure is extremely common, and is 
 resorted to by all our poets as often for mere convenience 
 as for any higher purpose, 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 way 
 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 antepenultimate, are made available 
 in concluding so many lines. The same thing happens 
 when T^'e have at the end of the line a short or unaccented 
 monosyllable 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 Pletchej's 
 
 " By my dead father's soul, you stir not, Sir ! " 
 
 {Htcmoroiis Lieutenant, ii. 2) ; 
 
 or, 
 
 " And yields all thanks to me for that dear care 
 "Which I was bound to have in training you." 
 
 {King and No King, ii.). 
 
 But another case is more remarkable. 
 
 This is when the weak or unaccented tenth syllable is 
 neither the final syllable of a word the accented syllable 
 of which has already done service in the preceding foot, nor 
 in any way a part of the same clause of the expression to 
 which that foot belongs, but a separate monosyllabic word, 
 frequently one, such as aiid, hit, 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
 
 THE TERSE. 37 
 
 Horace, Pindar, and tlie G-reek dramatists in tlieir choral 
 passages (if we may accept the common arrangement), — 
 to say nothing of sundry modern imitations in the same 
 bold style, even in our own vernacular, which need not 
 be quoted. Such a construction 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 prosodical system ; for, besides that the and, or, 
 of, or if is not really a slighter syllable than the termina- 
 tion -ty or -ly, for instance, which is so frequently found 
 in the same position, these and other similar monosylla- 
 bles are constantly recognized, under the second of the 
 above laws of modification, as vii'tually accented 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 customary 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 recommends 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 made a characteristic of the verse. It partakes too 
 much of the nature of a trick or a deception to be em- 
 ployed except sparingly in poetry of the manliest or most 
 massive order. Yet there too it may be introduced 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 sait": —
 
 38 PROLEGOME?fA. 
 
 " He rises on the toe : that spirit of his 
 In aspiration lifts him from the earth." 
 
 Two things are observable witb regard to Shakespeare's 
 employment of this peculiar construction of verse : — 
 
 1. It will be found upon an examination of his Plays 
 that there are some of them in which it occui-s very rarely, 
 or perhaps scarcely at all, and others in which it is abun- 
 dant. 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 pro- 
 gress of style may be traced more or less distinctly in 
 every writer ; and there is no point of style which more 
 marks a poetic writer than the character of his versifica- 
 tion. 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 writ- 
 ten throughout 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 indica- 
 tion which can be compared with it as an element in de- 
 termiaing the chronology of the Plays. It is therefore 
 extremely difficult to believe that the three Eoman plays, 
 Julius CcBsar, Antony and Cleopatra, and Coriolanus, 
 can all belong to the same period (Malone assigns them 
 severally to the years 1607, 1G08, and 1610), seeing that 
 the second and third are among the plays in which verses 
 having in the tenth place an unemphatic monosyllable of 
 the kind in question are of most frequent occurrence, 
 while the only instances of an}i;hing of the sort in the 
 first are, ] believe, tlie following : —
 
 THE TEE8E. 39 
 
 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 shoiild 
 
 So get the start of the majestic world." 
 
 55. " I do believe that these applauses are 
 
 For some new honours that are heaped on Ca;»ar. 
 
 155. " All the interim is 
 
 Like a phantasma." 
 
 307. " Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may 
 Have an immediate freedom of repeal." 
 
 355. " And am moreover suitor, that I may 
 Produce his body to the market-place." 
 
 358. " And that we are contented Ctesar shall 
 
 Have all true rites and awful ceremonies." 
 
 406. " But yesterday the word of Caesar might 
 Have stood against the world." 
 
 494. " 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 in- 
 stances have we it carried nearly so far as it repeatedly is 
 in some other Plays : le, and is, and should, and ma)/, and 
 sJiall, and mirjTit, and are, all verbs, though certainly not 
 emphatic, will yet any of them allow the voice to rest 
 upon it with a considerably stronger pressure than such 
 lightest and slightest of " winged words " as and, or, hut, 
 if, that (the relative or conjunction), ivho, loMch, than, 
 as, of, to, loith, 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 con- 
 sideration has been misconceived by every editor, includ- 
 ing the most recent. Let us take, for example, the play of
 
 40 PEOLEGOMEXA. 
 
 Coriolanus, in which, as lias just been observed, such 
 verses ar^ very numerous. Here, in the first place, we 
 have a good many instances in which the versification is 
 correctly exhibited in the Pirst 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 thwar tings 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. , 
 
 " 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 aU the men i' the world." — iv. 5. 
 
 " Had we no quarrel else * to Eome, but that 
 Thou art thence banished, we would muster all." — iv. 5. 
 
 * The reading of aU 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 substitute else. The prosody and the sense agree 
 in admonishing 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; " youncj 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 unquestion- 
 ably that of the word old in the line {As Yon Like It, iv. 3), — 
 
 " Under an (old) oak, whose bouglis were mossed with age." 
 
 Nor can I have any doubt that another text, equally familiar to the 
 modern car, has suifcrcd a similar corruption, — Bassanio's — 
 
 " In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 
 I shot his fellow of the self-same flight 
 The self-same way with more advised watch, 
 To find tlic other forth ; and by adventuring both 
 I oft found both."
 
 THE TEESE. 41 
 
 " You hare holp to ravisli your own daughters, and 
 To melt the city leads upon yoiu" pates." — iv. 6. 
 
 " Your temples burned in their cement ; and 
 Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined." — iv. G. 
 
 " 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'U 
 Hear nought from Eome 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 Eoman ladies bring not comfort home." — v. 4. 
 
 " 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 Eome." — v. 5. 
 
 To find forth ra^j, I apprehend, be safely pronounced to be neither 
 English nor sense. The /or<7t has apparently been transferred from the 
 preceding line, which was either originally written " The same way 
 forth," or, more probably, was so corrected after having been origin- 
 ally written " The self-same way."
 
 42 PEOLEQOMENA. 
 
 " 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 suificient to prove 
 the prevalence in the Play of the peculiarity under con- 
 sideration, and also its recognition, whether consciously 
 and deliberately or otherwise does not matter, 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 u^pon 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. 1. 
 
 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. 
 
 After this it is surely very strange to find in our 
 modern editions such manifest and gross misconceptions 
 of the versification as the following arrangements ex- 
 hibit :— 
 
 "My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, 
 And — By deed-achieving honour duly named." — ii. 1. 
 
 " I have seen the dumb men throng to see him, 
 And — The blind to hear him speak." — ii. 1. 
 
 " Have made them mutes, silenced their pleaders, 
 And — Dispropcrtied their freedoms." — ii. 1. 
 
 " 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.
 
 THE TEESE. 43 
 
 " 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 
 
 Have — Done many things, some less, some more ; your voice.* 
 
 — ii. 3. 
 " Endue you with the people's voice : 
 
 Eemains — 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. 1. 
 
 " That would depopulate the city, 
 And — Be every man himself." — iii. 1. 
 
 In all these instances the words which I have separated 
 from those that follow them by a dash belong to the pre- 
 ceding 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 modem editor who has shown the most disposition 
 to tamper with the old text in the matter of the versifi- 
 cation is Steevens. The metrical an-angement of the 
 First Folio is \mdoubtedly vrrong in thousands of in- 
 stances, and it is very evident that the conception which 
 the persons by whom the printing was superintended had 
 of verse was extremely imperfect and confused. They 
 would be just as likely to go wrong as right whenever 
 any iutricacy or indistinctness in the manuscript threw 
 them upon their own resources of knovvdedge and critical 
 sagacity. But Steevens set about the work of correction 
 on false principles. Nothmg less would satisfy him than 
 to reduce the prosody of the natural di*amatic blank verse
 
 44 PEOLEGOMEKA. 
 
 of Shakespeare, the characteristic product 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 Stee- 
 vens as having no ear for verse. His ear was a practised 
 and correct enough one, only that it had been trained ir 
 a narrow school. Malone, on the other hand, had no 
 notion whatever of verse heyond 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 viritten 
 on the subject. And, curiously enough, Mr James Bos- 
 well, the associate of his labours, appears to have been 
 endowed with nearly an equal share of the same singular 
 insensibility. 
 
 VII. SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS CiESAR. 
 
 Shakespeare's Julius Gaesar was first printed, as far as 
 is known, in the First Folio collection of his Plays, pub- 
 lished in 1623 ; it stands there between Timon of Athens 
 and Macbeth, filling, in the division of the volmne which 
 begins with Coriolanus and extends to the end, being that 
 occupied with the Tragedies, — which is preceded by those 
 containing 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 Catalogue at the 
 beginning of the volume it is entered as " The Life and 
 Death of Julius Caesar;" other entries in the list being, 
 among the Histories, " The Life and Death of King 
 John," "The Life and Death of Eichard the Third," 
 " The Life of King Henry the Eighth," and, aniung the 
 Tragedies, " The Tragedy of Coriolanus," " The Tragedy 
 of Macbeth," " The Tragedy of Hamlet," " King Lear," 
 " Othello, tlie Moore of Venice." In the Second Folio 
 
 * There is a break in the pagiuation from 101 to 108 inclusive.
 
 THE JULIUS C^SAB. 45 
 
 (1632), where this series of pages includes Troilus and 
 Cressida, "The Tragedy of Julius Cfesar," 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 Drama- 
 tis PersoncB, 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," assigning 
 Hamlet to the year IGOO, OiMlo to 1601, Lear to 1605, 
 Macbeth to 1606, Antony and Cleopatra to 1608, and Corio- 
 lanus to 1610, fixes upon the year 1607 as the date of the 
 composition of Julius Caesar. But nothing can be more 
 inconclusive than the gi'oimds upon which he comes to 
 this conclusion. His reasoning is principally, or, indeed, 
 we may say almost wholly, founded upon the fact of a 
 rhyming play on the same subject by "WilKam 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 unsuccessfully 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 ali'eady employed his pen ; and it is 
 not likely that Lord Sterline, who was then a very 
 young man, and had scarcely imleamed the Scotch idiom, 
 should 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 per- 
 haps have proceeded only from the two authors drawing 
 from the same source. However, there are some reasons
 
 40 PllOLEGOilENA. 
 
 for thinking the coincidence more than accidental." 
 The only additional reason he gives is that " a pas- 
 sage in The Tempest (" The cloud-capped towers, etc.") 
 eeen;s 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 Shake- 
 speare of one 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, however widely re- 
 mote 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 Shake- 
 speare in all the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of 
 glorious words^ 
 
 A Latin Play upon the subject of the death of Caesar 
 — " Epilogus Ca>sai*is Interfecti" — the production of a 
 Dr Richard Eedes, whom Meres, in his Wi^s Common- 
 loealth, published in 1598, mentions 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 Cajsar and Pompey, or Cesar's 
 llevenge," of which two editions have come down to us, 
 one bearing the date of 1607 (the same year in which
 
 THE JULIUS C^SAE. 47 
 
 Alexander's Julius Ccssar was printed at London), the 
 other without date, but apparently earlier. This Play is 
 often confounded with another of the same title by George 
 Chapman, which, however, was not printed till 1631. 
 The anonymous Play appears to have been first produced 
 in 1594. See Henslowe's Diary, hy Collier, p. 4-1). Ma- 
 lone observes that " in the rimning title it is called The 
 Tragedy of Julius 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 popidar of his Plays by Leonard Digges (a yoimger 
 brother of Sir Dudley, the popular parliament man in 
 the time of Charles I., and afterwardsi Master of the 
 EoUs), in a copy of verses prefixed to the First FoHo : — 
 
 " Nor shall I e'er believe or think thee dead, . . . 
 ... till I hear a scene more nobly take 
 Than when thj' half-sword parlyiug Romans spake." 
 
 In the Prologue, also, to Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 tragedy entitled The False One,] the subject of which is 
 the loves of Caesar and Cleopatra in Egj'pt, the authors 
 vindicate themselves from the charge of ha\'ing taken up 
 the same groimd with Shakespeare in the present Play: — 
 
 * 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-shew on the subject of Julius Caesar : — " I 
 have seen the City of Nineveh and Julius Cajsar acted by mammets." 
 " I formerly supposed," 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-shew, 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 under- 
 stand Cffisar or another character in the Play, the villain Septimius. 
 A friend suggests that it may be Cleopatra that is intended to be so 
 designated.
 
 48 PEOLEGOMENA. 
 
 " Sure to tell 
 Of Csesar's amorous heats, and how he fell 
 I' 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. 
 
 FinaEy, 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 1611, in which year another 
 Play entitled The Second Ifaiden's Tragedy was licensed. 
 But even this is doubtful ; for there is no resemblance, or 
 connexion of any kind, except that of the names, between 
 the two Plays.* 
 
 On the whole, it may be inferred from these slight evi- 
 dences that the present Play can hardly be assigned to a- 
 later date than the year 1607 ; but there is nothing to 
 prove that it may not be of considerably earlier date. 
 
 It is evident that the character and history of Julius 
 Csesar had taken a strong hold of Shakespeare's imagina- 
 
 * " This tragedy," says Malone, " (as I learn from a MS. of Mr 
 Oldys) was formerly in the possession of John TVarburton, Esq., Som- 
 erset 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., IGU, in the Lansdo^vn Collection" (British 
 Museton), in the First No. of The Old English Drama, Lon. 1824, 
 -25, the eight Nos. of which, making two vols., arc commonly rcgaixlcd 
 as making a supplement to the last, or 12 volume, edition of Dodslerj. 
 The title of The Second Maiden's Tragedy appears to have been given 
 to the present Play by Sir George Buc, the master of tho Revels. The 
 MS., he states, had no name inscribed on it. On the back of the MS. 
 the Play is attributed to William Goughe. Afterwards William has been 
 altered to Thomas. Then this name has been obliterated, and George 
 Chapman substituted. Finally, tliis too has been scored through, and 
 the authorship assigned to William Shakspear.
 
 TnE JULIUS CiESAE. 49 
 
 tion. Tliere is perhaps no otlier historical character who 
 is so repeatedly alluded to throughout his Plays. 
 
 " There was never anythiug so sudden," says the dis- 
 guised Eosalind in As You Like It (v. 2) to Orlando, 
 speaking of the manner in which his hrother 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 Se- 
 cond Part of King Henry the Foiirtli (i. 1) to old JSTorth- 
 umberland in his misannouncement of the issue of the 
 field of Shrewsbury, 
 
 " So fought, so liononred, and so fairly won, 
 
 Came not till now to dignify the times 
 
 Since Caesar's fortunes." 
 
 And afterwards (in iv. 3) we haAC FalstafTs magnificent 
 gasconade: — "I have speeded hither with the very cx- 
 tremest inch [?] of possibility : I have foundered nine- 
 score 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 justly say, vdih. the hook-nosed 
 fellow of Eome, I came, saw, and overcame." 
 
 " But now behold," says the Chorus in the Fifth Act 
 of King Henry the Fifth, describing the triumphant re- 
 ttu-n of the English monarch from the conquest of Erance, 
 " 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 Cresar in." 
 
 In the three Parts of King Henry the Sixth, which are
 
 50 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 SO thickly sprinkled with classical allusions of all kinds, 
 there are several to the great Eoman Dictator. " Henry 
 the Fifth! thy ghost I invocate ;" the Duke of Bedford 
 apostrophizes his deceased brother in the Mrst Part 
 (i.l); 
 
 " Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils ! 
 Combat -with adverse planets in tbo heavens I 
 A far more glorious star thy soul will make 
 Than Julius Caesar, or bright Cassiope."* 
 
 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 Caisar and his fortunes bare at once." 
 
 In the Second Part (iv. 1) 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 Eoman sworder and banditto slave 
 Murdered sweet TuUy ; Brutus' bastard hand 
 Stabbed Julius Cresar ; savage islanders 
 Pompey the great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates." 
 
 * The Cassiope is supplied by Mr Collier's MS. annotator. But 
 Theobald had proposed Cassiopeia, and not without supporting his 
 conjecture by some ingenious and plausible reasoning. See his letter 
 to Warburton, dated 29th January 1730, in Nichols's Illustrations, II. 
 451 — 453. This, then, is one of those remarkable instances in which 
 the recently discovered MS. is found to concur with a previously pub- 
 lished conjectural emendation, — rlike two independent witnesses testify- 
 ing separately to the same fact, and so at once adding confirmation to 
 the fact and corroborating each other's testimony, sagacity, or judgment. 
 It is proper to add, however, that Theobald was afterwards induced to 
 give up this reading. Writing again to Warburton on the 12th of 
 February, he says : — " I have received the pleasure of yours dated 
 February 3, with a kind and judicious refutatiem of Cassiopeia ; and, 
 with a just deference to your most convincing reasons, I shall with 
 great cheerfulness banish it as a bad and unsupported conjcctiu'e." 
 {Illustrations, II. 47 S).
 
 THE JULIUS C^SAK. 51 
 
 And afterwards (iv. 7) we have Lord Say, in somewliat 
 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 ! " Queen 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 Coesar shed no blood at aU, 
 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 Xinff Eichard the Third {Hi. 1) is a passage of great 
 pregnancy. " Did Julius Cajsar build that place, my 
 lord ? " the young Prince asks Buckingham when it is 
 proposed that he shall retire for a day or two to the 
 Tower before his coronation. And, Avhen informed in 
 reply that the mighty Eoman at least began the building, 
 " Is it," he further inquii'es, 
 
 " upon record, or else reported 
 Successively from age to age, he built it ? " 
 
 "It is upon record, my gracious lord," answers Bucking- 
 ham. On which the wise royal boy rejoins, — 
 
 " 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 aU-endiag day." 
 
 And then, after a " What say you, uncle ? ", he explains 
 the great thought that was working in his mind in these 
 striking words : — 
 
 E 2
 
 52 PBOLEGOMEN"A. 
 
 " That Julius Ca3sar 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." 
 
 Par away from anything E.oman as the fable and locality 
 of Samlet are, various passages testify how much Caesar 
 was in the mind of Shakespeare while writing that Play. 
 First, we have the famous passage (i. 1) so closely re- 
 sembling one in the Second Scene of the Second Act of 
 Julius CcBsar : — 
 
 " In the most high and palmy state of Eome, 
 A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, 
 The graves stood tenantlcss, and the sheeted dead 
 Did squeak and gibber in the Eoman streets ; 
 As t stars with trains of fu'c, 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 exploits of the latter 
 in his university days : — "I did enact Julius Caesar : I 
 was killed i' the Capitol; Brutus killed me." "It was a 
 Irufe part of him to kill so capital a calf there " (surely, 
 by the bye, to be spoken aside, though not so marked) . — 
 Lastly, there is the Prince's rhyming moralization (v. 1) : — 
 
 " Imperial Caisar, dead and turned to clay, 
 Might stop a liole to keep the wind away. 
 0, tliat that earth which kept the world in awe 
 Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! " 
 
 * " 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 Collier's anno- 
 tator gives us no help. 
 
 J This passage, however, is found only in the Quartos, and is omitted 
 in all the Folios. Nor, althougli retained by ]\Ir Collier in his " rc- 
 gidatcd" text, is it stated to be restored by his MS. aunotator.
 
 THE JULIUS dSAE. 53 
 
 Many notices of Cfesar occur, as might be expected, in 
 Cymheline. Such are the boast of Posthumus to his friend 
 Philario (ii. 4) of the valour of the Bj'itons : — 
 
 " Our countrymen 
 Are men more ordered than wlicn Julius Cfesar 
 Smiled at their lack of skill, hut found their courage 
 "Worthy his frowning at ; " 
 
 Various passages in the First Scene of the Third Act : — 
 
 " When Julius Csesar (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 Cajsar's praises no whit less 
 Than in his feats deser-ving it)," etc. ; 
 
 " There be many Caesars, 
 Ere such another Julius ; " 
 
 " A kind of conquest 
 Coesar made here ; but made not here his brag 
 Of came, and saio, 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 oiu- 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 
 (0 giglot Fortune I) to master Cagsar'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 Ctesars ; 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 
 Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon 
 Ourselves to be." 
 
 Lastly, we have a few references in Antony and Cleo- 
 patra ; such as : —
 
 54 PEOLEGOMENA. 
 
 " Broad-fronted Caesar, 
 TSTien thou -wast here above the ground, I was 
 A morsel for a monarch " {i, 4) ; 
 
 " Julius Cresar, 
 Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted" (w. 6) ; 
 
 " What was it 
 That moved pale Cassius to conspire ? And what 
 Made the all-honoured, honest, Eoman Brutus, 
 With the armed rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom, 
 To drench the Capitol, but that they would 
 Have one man but a man ? " (u'. 6) ; 
 
 " Your iine 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 " {in. 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 representation 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 CjBsar," or " The 
 Life and Death of JtJius Caesar," would describe no more 
 than the half of it. Caesar's part in it terminates with 
 the opening of the Third Act ; after that, on to the end, 
 we have nothing more of him but his dead body, his ghost, 
 and his memory. The Play might more fitly be caUed 
 after Erutus than after Cfcsar. A.nd stiU more remark- 
 able is the partial delineation that we have of the man.
 
 THE JULIUS C^SAE. 55 
 
 "We have a distinct exhibition of little else beyond his 
 vanity and arrogance, relieved and set oft' by his good- 
 natiu-e or affability. He is brought before us only as 
 " the spoilt child of victory." All the grandeur and pre- 
 dominance of his character is kept in the background or 
 in the shade — to be infeiTed, at most, from what is said 
 by the other dramatis jj^nsonce — 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 siispected that the complete and full-length Cajsar 
 had been carefully reserved for another drama. Even 
 Antony is only half delineated here, to be brought for- 
 ward again on another scene : Caesar needed such repro- 
 duction 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 iirst 
 figures, standing conspicuously out from all the rest, are 
 Brutus and Cassius. 
 
 Some of the passages that have been collected are fur- 
 ther curious and interesting as being other renderings 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 commentatorship and criticism of 
 which the works of Shakespeare have been the subject, 
 they stiU 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 
 character, disposition, temper, opinions, tastes, prejudices, 
 — is a book yet to be written.
 
 56 PEOLEGOMEIS'A. 
 
 It is remarkable that not only in the present Play, but 
 also in Samlet and in Antony and Cleopatra, the assassin- 
 ation of Caesar should be represented as having taken 
 place in the Capitol. From the Prologue, 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 the making the Triumvirs in the 
 opening scene of the Pourth Act hold their meeting in 
 Rome. But this may have been done deliberately, and 
 neither from ignorance nor forgetfulness. 
 
 I have had no hesitation in discarding, with all the 
 modern editors, such absurd perversions as Antonio, Fla- 
 vio, Lucio, which never can have proceeded from Shake- 
 speare, wherever they occur in the old copies; and in 
 adopting Theobald's rectification of Murellus (for Marul- 
 lus), 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 liis edition). 
 
 The peculiarity of the form given to tlie name of 
 Caesar's wife in this Play does not seem to have been no- 
 ticed. 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 au- 
 thority.* Tlio Calphurnia of all the old copies of the 
 Play, adopted by all the modern editors, may be nothing 
 better than an invention of the printers. I have not, how- 
 
 • Mr Senior, in liis lato reprint of Bacon's Essays, at p. 99, gives 
 the name Calfurnia ; but tliat form is not to bo found, I apprehend, 
 in any of the old copies. 
 
 I
 
 THE JULIUS C.ESAB. 57 
 
 ever, ventiu'ed to rectify it, in tlie possibility that, al- 
 though 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 will be to be classed with 
 Anthony, Protlieus, and Bosphnrus, the common modern 
 corruption of the classic Bosporus, which even Gibbon 
 does not Hesitate to use. 
 
 The name of the person called Deciiis Brutus through- 
 out the play was Decimus Brutus. Decius is not, like 
 Decimus, a praenomen, but a gentilitial name. The eiTor, 
 however, is as old as the edition of Plutarch's Greek text 
 produced by Henry Stephens in 1572 ; * and it occurs 
 likewise in the accompanying Latin translation, and both 
 in Amyot's and Dacier's French, as well as in Xorth's Eng- 
 lish. It is also found in Philemon Holland's translation 
 of Suetonius, published in 1606. Lord Stii'ling in his 
 Julius Ccesar, probably misled in like manner by North, 
 has fixUen into the same mistake with Shakespeare. That 
 Decius is no error of the press is shown by its occiu-rence 
 sometimes in the verse in places where Decimus could 
 not stand. 
 
 Finally, it may be noticed that it was really this Deci- 
 mus Brutus who had been the special friend and favourite 
 of CcBsar, not Marcus Junius Brutus the conspirator, as 
 represented in the Play. In his misconception upon 
 this point our English di'amatist has been followed by 
 Voltaire in his tragedy of La Mort de Cesar, which is 
 written avowedly in imitation of the Julius Ccesar of 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The wholly new readings in the Play of Julius Ccesar 
 which jNIr Collier appears to have obtained from his 
 manuscript annotator are the following, twenty -three in 
 number : — 
 
 * 'Ev ft TOVT(f) AiKiog BpovTOQ 67r((cX?jcrtv 'A\fi~ivog. Vit. CcES. 
 p. 1354.
 
 58 PEOLEGOMEKA. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 102. He -was quick mettled when lie went to school. 
 But this, altliougli given in tlie Eegidated Text of tlie 
 Plays, is not noticed either in the Notes and Emendations 
 or in the List. 
 
 109. These are their seasons, — they are natural. 
 
 ACT II. 
 187. And after seem to chide 'em. This shall mark. 
 202. Enjoy the heavy honey-dew of slumber. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 285. That touches ws .? Ourself shall be last served. 
 
 303, Casca. Are we all ready ." — Cees. What is now amiss, &c 
 
 But this is not noticed in the List. 
 
 305. These crouchings, and these lowly courtesies. 
 — LoiD-cronched courtesies, and base spaniel fawning. 
 346. Our arms in strength of tvelcome, and our hearts. 
 363. A curse shall light upon the loins of men. 
 461. And things unlikely charge my fantasy. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 496. And graze on commons. 
 
 541. I shall be glad to Icarn of abler men. 
 
 542. I said, an older soldier, not a better. 
 
 But this is only given in the Begulated Text. 
 
 559. A flatterer's would not, though they did appear. 
 620. Come on refreshed, new-hearted, and encouraged. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 687. The posture of your blows is yet unknown. 
 090. While damned Casca, like a cur, behind. 
 
 But this is only given in the Regulated Text. 
 
 692. Have added slaughter to tlie icord of traitor. 
 704. Coming from Sardis, on o\iv forward ensign. 
 709. To stay the providence of those high powers. 
 711. Must end that work the ides of March began. 
 
 But this is only given in the Itegulatcd Text. 
 
 794. lie only, in a generous honest thought 
 
 Of common good to all, made oue of them. 

 
 THE JULIUS CESAE. 59 
 
 And the emendations in the MS. also include the fol- 
 lowing eleven readings which had heen conjecturally pro- 
 posed before its discovery : — 
 
 ACT T. 
 
 56. That her wide toalls encompassed but one man. 
 
 57. Under sicch hard conditions as this time. 
 130. In favour's like the work we have in hand. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 238. We are two lions, littered in one day. 
 246. O/" evils imminent ; and on her knee. 
 
 ACT III, 
 305. Into the laio of children. Be not fond. 
 349. Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy death 
 358. Have all due rites, and lawful ceremonies. 
 459. I heard them say, Brutus and Cassius. 
 
 ACT lY. 
 530. Brutus, bay not me. 
 
 ACT V. 
 709. The term of life ; arming myself with patience. 
 
 Finally, the reading of the First Folio, which had been 
 altered in the Second, is restored by the MS. annotator 
 in the following ten instances : — 
 ACT I. 
 
 60. That I profess myself va. banqueting. 
 
 54. But /or my single self. 
 
 89. But there's no heed to be taken of them 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 160. Buried in their cloaks. 
 
 199. Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard. 
 
 233. The noise of battle hurtled in the air. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 529. I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon. 
 634. Poor knave, I blame thee 7iot, 
 
 ACT V, 
 
 758. And bring us word unto Octavius' tent. 
 779, My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life.
 
 60 rKOLEGOME:S"A. 
 
 Of these forty four corrections, thirty two are adopted 
 in the present text ; and, of the remaining twelve, only 
 one or two can be regarded, I think, as clearly wrong. 
 
 I have not thought it necessary to distiuguish the cases 
 in which the verbal affix -ed is to be united in the pro- 
 nunciation with the preceding syllable by the usual sub- 
 stitution of the apostrophe in place of the silent vowel. 
 "Why should the word loved, for example, so sounded be 
 represented differently in verse from what it always is in 
 prose ? It is true that the cases in which the -ed makes a 
 separate syllable are more numerous in Shakespeare than 
 in the poetry of the present day ; but the reader who 
 cannot detect such a case on the instant is disqualified by 
 some natural deficiency for the reading of verse. If any 
 distraction were necessary, the better plan would be to 
 represent the one form by " loved," the other by " lov-ed." 
 
 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 07ic in the numbering of 
 the speeches from 2-19 (on p. 180), which ought to be 248, onwards to 
 the end of the play.— 1863.
 
 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY 
 
 SHAKESPEAEE'S JULIUS CJISAR. 
 
 PERSOXS EEPRESENTED. 
 
 JULIUS CJESAK. 
 
 OCTATIUS C.T:SAR, ) Triumriyt, after 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS, > the death of Julius 
 M. .EMIL. LEPIDUS, ) Casa-. 
 CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPILIUS LENA; 
 
 Senators, 
 MARCUS BRUTUS, 
 CASSIUS, 
 CASCA, 
 TREBOXIUS, 
 LIGARIUS, 
 DECIUS BRUTUS, 
 METELLUS CIMBER, 
 CINNA, 
 
 FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, Trihums. 
 ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophist of Cnidos. 
 
 Con9pirators 
 against Julius 
 Oesar. 
 
 A SOOTHSAYER. 
 
 CINXA, a Poc<.— Another POET. 
 
 LUCILIUS, TITINIUS,MESSALA, Young 
 
 CATO, and VOLUMNIUS ; Frietids to 
 
 Jirutiis and Cassius. 
 VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO. 
 
 LUCIUS, DARDANIUS ; Servants to 
 
 Brutits. 
 PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius 
 
 CALPHURNIA, Wife to Ctpsar. 
 PORTIA, Wife to Brutus. 
 
 Se.vatoes, Citizens, guards, Attend- 
 
 A.STS, Elf. 
 
 Scene, during a great part of the Play, at Rome ; afterwards at 
 Sardis ; and near Phillppi. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.— Rome. A Street. 
 
 Enter Flatius, Marullus, and a Rabble of Citizens. 
 
 1. Flav. Hence ; home, you idle creatures, get you home; 
 Is this a holiday ? What ! know you not, 
 Being mechanical, you ought not walk, 
 Upon a labouring day, without the sign 
 Of your profession ? — Speak, what trade art thou ?
 
 02 PniLOLOGICAL COMMEKTART. [aCT I. 
 
 1 at, AVby, 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 ? 
 
 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 con- 
 science ; which is, indeed. Sir, a mend«r of bad soles. 
 
 7. Mar. What trade, thou knave ? thou naughty knave, what trade ? 
 
 8. 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me : yet if you 
 be out. Sir, I can mend you. 
 
 9. Mar. What mean'st thou by that ? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ? 
 2 at. Why, Sir, cobble you. 
 
 Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou } 
 12. 2 at. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl : I meddle 
 with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. 
 I am, indeed. Sir, a surgeon to old shoes ; when they are in great 
 danger, T recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's 
 leather have gone upon my handiwork. 
 
 Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? 
 Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ? 
 
 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more 
 work. But, indeed. Sir, we make holiday to see Caesar, and to re- 
 joice in his triumph. 
 15. Mar. Wherefore rejoice .' What conquest brings he home .' 
 What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
 To gi'ace in captive bonds his chariot wheels } 
 You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! 
 0, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Eome, 
 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 Borne : 
 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 lier concave shores .'' 
 And do you now put on your best attire } 
 And do you now cull out a holiday ? 
 
 I
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS d:sAE. G3 
 
 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. 
 10. Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, 
 Assemble all the poor men of your sort ; 
 Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears 
 Into the channel, till the lowest stream 
 
 Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. [Exeunt Citizens. 
 
 See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved ! 
 They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. 
 Go you down that way towards the Capitol ; 
 This way will I : Disrobe the images. 
 If you do find them deckt 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 pluckt from Caesar's wing, 
 
 "Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ; 
 
 Who else woidd soar above the view of men, 
 
 And keep us all in servile fearfuluess. [Exeunt 
 
 Act I. Scene I., etc. — The heading here in the original 
 text is : — " Actus Primus. Scoena Prima. Pinter Pla- 
 vius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners over the Sfaffe." 
 Murellus stands thronghout not only in all the Eolios, 
 but also in the editions of both Eowe and Pope. The 
 right name vras fii-st inserted by Theobald. 
 
 This opening scene may be compared Avith the first part 
 of that of Coriolanus, to which it bears a strong general 
 resemblance. 
 
 1. You ouc/ht not tvalk. — The history and explanation 
 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, 1816, and px-inted in their Proceed-
 
 64 PHILOLOaiCAL COMMENTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 i7}gs, II. 223. " Originally," 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 came to be 
 considered as an almost necessary appendage 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 in- 
 trusive particle." The ancient s^Titax is still retained in 
 all cases with the auxiliary verbs, as they are called, shall, 
 will, can, onay, do, and also with must and let, and oftener 
 than not with hid, dare, hear, make, see, and perhaps some 
 others. Vid. 634. Cnuse is frequently so used; and so 
 is help, sometimes, — as in IMilton's Sonnet to his friend 
 Lawrence : — 
 
 " "WTiere shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
 Help waste a sullen day ? " 
 
 But, even since the language may be said to have en- 
 tered 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 follovnng 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 quotations exemplifies both tliese archaisms ; 
 it is from the portion of The Mirror for Magistrates con- 
 tributed by John Higgins in 1574 {King Alhanact, 16) : — 
 
 " And, though wc owe the faU of Troy requite, 
 Yet let revenge thereof from gods to light." 
 
 That is, " Tliough Ave ought to requite, . . . yet let re- 
 venge light," as we should now say. Here we have let 
 with the to, and oive (of which ought or owed is the pre- 
 terite), as in Sliakespeare's expression befoi'e us, without 
 it. Others of Dr Guest's citations from the same writer
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAE. G5 
 
 exhibit the auxiliaries mmj, tciU, can with the io. And 
 he also produces from Spenser {F. Q., iv. 7. 32), — 
 ""WTiom when on ground she grovelling saw to roll;" 
 and from Shakespeare {Othello, iv. 2) — 
 
 " I durst, my Lord, to Avager she is honest." 
 Other verbs that are foimd in Shakespeare sometimes 
 construed in the same manner are endure, forhid, intend, 
 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. 1. 
 " Your betters have endured me say my mind." 
 
 Tarn, of Shrew, iv. 3. 
 " Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word." 
 
 Com. of Er. v. 1. 
 
 The verb to owe, it may further be observed, is etjnno- 
 logically the same with oivn. Shakespeare repeatedly 
 has owe where oivn would be now employed ; as in lago's 
 diabolical self-gratulation (in Othello, Hi. 3) : — 
 
 " Not poppy, nor maudi'agora, 
 Nor all the drowsy syrops of the world. 
 Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 
 "Which thou oiced'st yesterday." 
 
 €^he original English word is dgan, — the ag, or radical part, 
 of which is evidently the same ■nith the tx of the Greek 
 t'xtiv, signifying to hold, to possess, to have for one's pro- 
 perty, or what we call one's own. If we suppose the a to 
 have been pronounced broad, as in our modern all, and 
 the g to have come to be softened as g final usually is 
 in modern German, ag and owe, unlike as they are to the 
 eye, wiU be only different ways of spelling, or represent- 
 ing by letters, almost the same vocal utterance. The 
 sound which the vowel originally had is more nearly pre- 
 served in the Scotch form of the word, awe. The n which 
 we have in the form own is either merely the common an-
 
 6G PHILOLOGICAL CO:^ ilENTAHr. [aCT I. 
 
 nexation which the vowel sound is apt to seek as a sup- 
 port or rest for itself, or, probably, in this case it may be 
 the en of the ancient past participle (dgen) or the an of 
 the infinitive {dgan') . So we have both to awake and to 
 awaJcen, to ojye and to open. In so short a word as the 
 one under consideration, and one in such active sernce, 
 these affixes would be the more liable to get confounded 
 with the root. It may sound odd to speak of a man as 
 owning what he owes ; yet, if we "wdll 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. For another explan- 
 ation of these forms, hoAvever, the reader is referred to 
 the Second Edition of Dr Latham's Handhoolc of the 
 English Language (1855), pp. SOJj and 309. Dr Latham 
 distinguishes the own in such expressions as " He owned 
 his fault" by the name of the Ow7i concedentis (of con- 
 cession or acknowledgment). But may not this sense be 
 explained as equivalent to I make my own, I take as my 
 own r' I 
 
 1. Upon a lahouring day. — Labouring is here a sub- 
 stantive, not a participle. It is as when we say that we 
 love labouring, or that labouring is conducive to health 
 of mind as well as of body. It is not meant that the day 
 labours ; as when we speak of a labouring man, or a la- 
 bouring ship, or a labouring line — 
 
 (" When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw. 
 The line too labours, and the words move slow"). 
 
 A lahouring day is an expression of the same kind with 
 a icalking slick, or a riding coat ; in which it is not as- 
 serted that the stick walks, or that the coat rides ; but,
 
 sc. ].] JULIUS c.i;sAB. 67 
 
 two substantives being conjoined, the one characterizes 
 or qualifies the otlier, — perfonns, in fact, the part of an 
 adjective, — jiist as happens in the expressions a gold ring, 
 a silver tankard, a leather apron, a morning draught, the 
 evening hells. 
 
 An expression used by Cowper (in his verses composed 
 in the name of Alexander Se'kii*k), "the sound of the 
 church-going bell," has been passionately reprobated by 
 Wordsworth. "The epithet church-going applied to a 
 bell," observes the critic (in an Appendix upon the sub- 
 ject of Poetic Diction, first attached, I believe, in 1820 
 to the Preface originally published with the Second 
 Edition of the Lyrical 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 mat- 
 ters of admiration." A church-going hell is merely a bell 
 for chiirch-going ; and the expression is constructed on 
 the same principle with a thousand others that are and 
 always have been in familiar use ; — such as a marauding 
 or a sight-seeing expedition, a banking or a house-build- 
 ing speculation, a fox-hunting country, a lending library, 
 a writing desk, a looking glass, a dining room, a dancing 
 school, a dwelling house, a lying-in hospital, etc., etc. 
 AVhat 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 
 Cleopatra, Hi. 11) say, speaking of the victorious Caesar, — 
 " From his all-obeying breath I hoar 
 The doom of Egypt ? " 
 But these audacities of language are of the very soul of 
 poetry. 
 
 The peculiar class of substantives under consideration 
 cannot, properly speaking, be regarded as even present 
 participles in disguise. Their true history has been given 
 
 F 2
 
 6S PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT I. 
 
 for tlie first time by Mr Eicbard Taylor in his Additional 
 Notes to Tooke's Diversions of Parley, 1829 and 1840 ; 
 vid. edition of 1810, pp. xxxix.-liv. The old termination 
 of the present participle in EngHsh was and or end; and 
 when that part of the verb was vised substantively it de- 
 noted the agent, or performer of the verbal act. Thus, 
 Haelend signified the Healer, or Saviour ; Scyppend, the 
 Shaper, or Creator. Ing or ung, on the other hand, was 
 the regular termination of that description of verbal sub- 
 stantive which denoted the act. Thus Brennimg was what 
 in Latin would be called Comhustio, and what in our 
 modern English is stiU 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 instance, we have, as anciently in English, end for 
 the termination universally of the present participle, and 
 ung for that of a numerous class of verbal substantives all 
 signifying the act or thing done. It never could have 
 been supposed that in that language these verbal sub- 
 stantives in ung were present participles. 
 
 But in English the fact is, as Mr Taylor has observed, 
 that it is not the verbal substantive denoting the act 
 which has assumed the form of the present participle, but 
 the latter which, has thrown away its ovni proper termi- 
 nation and adopted that of the former. This change 
 appears to have commenced as early as the twelfth cen- 
 tury, and to have been completely established by the 
 foui'teenth. Even after the middle of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, however, we have the old distinction between the 
 two terminations (the end or and for the present participle, 
 or the agent, and the ing for the verbal act) still adhered 
 to by the Scottish writers. 
 
 The consequence of the two forms having thus become 
 confounded is, as Dr Latham has remarlied {JEnglish 
 Language, 3rd edit. pp. 319, 350), that we now construct 
 our verbal substantives in ing upon a false analogy. It
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS c.i:sAB, G9 
 
 has long been imderstood, or assumed, at least, tliat the 
 present particij^le of any English verb may be used sub- 
 stantively to express the verbal act or state. 
 
 1. What trade art tliou ? — The rationale of this mode 
 of expression may be seen from the answer to the ques- 
 tion: — " AVTiy, Sir, a carpenter." The trade and the 
 person practising it are used indifferently 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 tJiou, as 
 here and in 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, was still common in the English 
 of Shakespeare's age ; it was the ordinary form in address- 
 ing an inferior ; only when he was treated, or affected to 
 be treated, as a gentleman, the mechanic received the 
 more honourable compellation oi you ; — as in 3, "Ton, 
 aS'zV, what trade are you?" Thou, Sir, would have been 
 incongruous h\ the circumstances. 
 
 6. Soles. — Quasi souh ; — an immemorial quibble, 
 doubtless. It is found also (as Malone notes) in 
 Fletcher's Woman Pleased. Tet we might seem to have 
 a distinction of pronunciation between soul and sole in- 
 dicated in The Merchant of Venice, iv. 1, " JN'ot on thy 
 sole, but on thy soiil, harsh Jew." 
 
 7. This speech in the old copies is given to Flavius ; 
 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 Flavius and 
 Marullus alternately rate the people, like two smiths 
 smiting on the same anvil." But this will not explain or 
 account for the "mend «?e" 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 be- 
 longs. The rating, besides, is as much alternate, or in-
 
 70 PHILOLOGICAL COMME^TABT. [aCT T. 
 
 termingled, in the one way aa in the other : IMr Knight 
 gives six speeches to Tlavius and five to Marullus ; the 
 common arrangement gives five to Flavins and six to 
 Mai'ullns. Mr Collier, however, also gives the present 
 speech to Plavius. 
 
 The other changes which ]\Ir Knight charges the 
 modern editors ■«dth proposing unnecessarily in the allot- 
 ment of the speeches in this scene were all proposed, I 
 believe, before the substitution of Marullus for Flavins 
 in 7, which was made by Capell. 
 
 8. Be not out until me; yet, if you he 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 di'ess. For 
 another play upon the various senses of the word out see 
 the dialogue between Rosalind and Orlando in As You 
 Like It, iv. 1. 
 
 9. Mend one. — The answer shows that mend, not me, 
 is the emphatic word. 
 
 12. But tvilh awl. — Mr Knight and Mr Collier print 
 " with all." Tliis, apparently, would accord with Farmer's 
 notion, who maintains that the true reading is " I meddle 
 with no trade, man's matters," etc., imderstanding with 
 awl, or with all, I suppose, to involve, as one of its mean- 
 ings, that of "with all trades." The original reading is, 
 " but withal I am indeed, Sir, a surgeon," etc. xlnd the 
 Second Folio has '^woman's matters." 
 
 12. As proper men. — A proper man is a man such as 
 he should be. In TJie Tempest, ii. 2, we have the same 
 expression that we have here distributed into two suc- 
 cessive 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." But, in the prevailing 
 tone of its inspiration at least, it is not Avith tlie present 
 Play tliat one would compare The Tempest, but rather 
 witii Tlic Winters Tale.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CESAR. 71 
 
 15. Wherefore rejoice? etc. — This was in the begin- 
 ning of B. c. 44 (a. u. c. 709), when Caesar, having re- 
 turned from Spain in the preceding October, after defeat- 
 ing 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 then in his 
 fifty-sixtli 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 : — 
 
 " Tour face, my thane, is as a book -n-here men 
 May read strange matters, to beguile tlie time." 
 
 AYliat follows, — "Have you climbed up," etc., — is, of 
 course, made a second question. 
 
 15. To see great Pompey pass the streets of Home. — 
 In modern English to piass a street, or a bridge, is to ab- 
 stain from walking along it. It would be satisfactory 
 with respect to this line, if other instances could be 
 produced of the usage of the language being difierent in 
 Shakespeare's day. 
 
 15. Tliat Tiler tremhled underneath her hanTcs. — The 
 proper antecedent of that (so, or in such loise) is left un- 
 expressed, as sufficiently obvious. — Some of the modern 
 editors have taken the unwarrantable liberty of changing 
 her into his in this line and the next but one, because 
 Tiber is one of those names of rivers which are always 
 masculine in Latin. This is to give us both language 
 and a conception ditierent from Shakespeare's. 
 
 15. Made in her concave shores. — An imperfect line (or
 
 72 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEIS^'TAET. [aCT I. 
 
 hemisticli, as it is commonly called), but prosodieally re- 
 gular so far as it goes, which is all we have a right to look 
 for. The occasional use of such shortened lines "vrould 
 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 distinctive charm of verse of that form. But, 
 apparently, it need not be assumed, as is always done, 
 that the fragment must necessarily be in all cases the 
 beginning of a line. AVTiy should not the poet be sup- 
 posed 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 meaning, with 
 what follows, not with what precedes ? A few lines lower 
 down, for instance, the words " Be gone " might be either 
 the first foot of the verse or the last. 
 
 16. TVeep 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 bitterness," or 
 "to weep an ocean of tears, or our fill of tears." This 
 sense of the verb weep is quite distinct from the sense it 
 eommordy has when used transitively, which is to weep 
 for, or to lament ; as when in Ci/mheline {i. 5) lachimo 
 speaks of " those that weep this lamentable divorce." It 
 more resembles 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 edu- 
 cated language is apt to feel ashamed of as something 
 rustic or childish. Perhaps, however, a distinction should 
 be drawn between such an expression as To xoecp tears and 
 such as To sin the sin, To sing a song, in which the verb 
 is merely a synonyme for to act, to perform, to execute. 
 
 IG. Till the lowest stream, etc. — The hot-tempered tri-
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CJESAE. 7.3 
 
 bune talks fast. It is evident that no augmentation oi 
 the water will ever make the loivest stream touch the 
 highest shores. 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 ex- 
 pression, 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 eel in the preterite indicative or past participle pas- 
 sive. It was only the first fervour of an acquaintance 
 with and admiration of our old literature that could 
 have led Keats to mar the fine poetry of many of his 
 pieces by a recurrence to these extinct forms. But 
 in the age of Shakespeare they were both, though begin- 
 ning to be abandoned, still part and parcel of the living 
 language, and there is therefore no affectation in his fre- 
 quent use of them. Instances both of the unemphatic do 
 and of the distinct syllabication of the final ed are niuner- 
 ous 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 economical innovations. — For 
 the modern stage direction Exeunt Citizens, the original 
 text has here JExeuni all the Commoners. 
 
 16. See wheW their basest metal. — TFhe'r is ivhether. 
 The contraction is common both in Shakespeare and in 
 other writers of his age. Thus we have in his 59th 
 Sonnet : — 
 
 " Whether we are mended, or whe'r better they, 
 Or whether revolution be the same." 
 
 The er may be supposed to have been pronounced as the 
 er is in her. In the old copies the word, when thus con- 
 tracted, is usually printed exactly as the adverb of place 
 always is, xvhere. But if it were to be here spelled ivhether 
 at full length, and pronoimced as a dissyllable, we should
 
 74 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 have no more of prosoclical irregularity than we have in 
 many other lines. And it is occasionally in similar cir- 
 cumstances so presented in the old copies. 
 
 16. DecTct with ceremonies. — To deck (the same "ndth 
 the Latin teg-ere and the German deck-en) signifies pro- 
 perly no more than to cover. Hence the deck of a ship. 
 ThatcTi (the German Dach) is another formation from the 
 same root. To deck, therefore, has no connexion 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 connexion, however, has probably helped to 
 acquire for deck its common acceptation, which now always 
 involves the notion of decoration or adornment. And 
 that was also its established sense when Shakespeare 
 wrote. By ceremonies must here be meant what are after- 
 wards in 18 called " Caesar's trophies," and are described 
 in 95 as " scarfs " which were hung on Csesar's images. 
 'No other instance of this use of the word, however, is 
 produced by the commentators ; nor is such a sense of it 
 given either by Johnson (though himself an editor of 
 Shakespeare) or by "Webster. The Latin ceremonia is of 
 unkno'tt'ii or disputed origin, but its only meaning is a 
 religious rite. 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 Shake- 
 speare uses it in still another sense, which is peculiar to 
 himself, or which has now at least gone out. Vid. 194. 
 
 17. The feast of Liipercal. — The Eoman festival of the 
 Lnpercalia {-ium. or -iornm), wliatever may be the ety- 
 mology of the name, was in honour of the god Pan. It 
 was celebrated annually on the Ides (or 13th) of Febru- 
 ary, in a place called the Lupercal, at the foot of Mount 
 Aventine. A third company of Luperci, or priests of 
 Pan, with Antony for its chief, was instituted in honour 
 of Julius Caesar.
 
 sc. 2.] jULirs c^sAR. 75 
 
 18. It is no matter, etc. — Tlie Second Folio goes, or 
 stumbles, on — 
 
 " let on Images 
 Be hung ■with the Ccesars Trophees." 
 
 INIr Collier does not state that this is corrected by his 
 MS. annotator. 
 
 18. Will make Mm, fly. — A modem sentence constructed 
 in this fashion would constitute the him the antecedent 
 to the icho, and give it the meaning of the person gener- 
 ally who (in this instance) else would soar, etc., or who- 
 ever 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 ivho. It was not 
 then so unusual, or accoimted 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 statement as if it 
 had been an afterthought. Thus, again in the present 
 Play, we have, in 701;, — 
 
 " 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 716, — 
 
 " Cassius, Brutus gave the -word too early ; 
 T\Tio, hanng some advantage on Octa^■ius, 
 Took it too eagerly." 
 
 SCENE II.— The same. A Public riace. 
 
 Enter, in Procession with Music, C^SAR ; Antony, for the course; 
 Calphtjrnia, roETi.\, Decius, CiCEEO, Brutus, Cassius, and 
 Casca, o great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer. 
 
 Cas. Calphurnia, — 
 
 Casca. Peace, ho ! Csesar speaks. [3/t«jc ceases. 
 
 Cas. Calphurnia, — 
 
 Cal. Here, my lord.
 
 76 PHILOLOaiCAL COMME^TTARr, [aCT I. 
 
 23. C(cs. Stand j'ou directly in Antonius' way, 
 When he doth run his course. — Antonius. 
 A?it. Cfcsar, my lord. 
 25. C(ss. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, 
 To touch Calphurnia ; for our elders say, 
 The barren, touched in this holy chase, 
 Shake oflf their sterile curse. 
 
 Ant. I shall remember : 
 "S\Tien Cajsar says, Do this, it is performed. 
 
 C(es. Set on ; and leave no ceremony out. [Mtisic. 
 
 Sooth. Caesar. 
 Ctes. Ila ! who calls ? 
 
 Casca. Bid every noise be still : — Peace yet again. [Music ceases. 
 CcBs. Who is it in the press that caUs on me } 
 I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music. 
 Cry, Caesar. Speak ; CiBsar is turned to hear. 
 32. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. 
 
 C(BS. What man is that ? 
 34. Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March. 
 CcBs. Set him before me ; let me see his face. 
 Cas. Fellow, come from the throng : Look upon Caesar, 
 CcES. What say' st thou to me now? Speak once again. 
 Sooth. Beware the ides of March. 
 39. Cces. He is a dreamer : let us leave him ; — pass. 
 
 \_Sennet. Exeunt all but Bkutus and Cassius. 
 Cas. WiU you go see the order of the course .^ 
 Bru. Not I. 
 Cas. 1 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 show of love, as I was wont to have : 
 You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand 
 Over your friend tliat 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, 
 Conceptions only proper to myself.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CJESAR. 77 
 
 "Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behanours : 
 But let not therefore my good fi-iends he grieved 
 (Among which number, Cassius, be you cue) ; 
 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. 'Tis just : 
 
 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 yom- shadow. I have heard, 
 "Where mauy of the best respect in Eome 
 (Except immortal Ca;sar), speaking of Brutus, 
 And groaning underneath this age's yoke. 
 Have mshed 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 sje yourself 
 
 So well as by reflection, T, your glass, 
 
 "Will modestly discover to youi-self 
 
 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. "S\Tiat means this shouting ? I do fear, the people 
 Choose Cfcsar for their king. 
 
 Cas. Ay, do you fear it ? 
 Then must I think you would not have it so. 
 53. Bru. I would not, Cassius ; yet I love him well. — 
 Bat wherefore do you hold me here so long ?
 
 7S niTLOLOGICAL COMMENTAEY. [aCX 
 
 Wliat is it that you ■would impart to me ? 
 If it be aught toward the general good, 
 Set Honour in one eye, and Death i' the other, 
 And I will look on both indifferently : 
 For, let the gods so speed me, as I love 
 The name of Honour 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, Honour 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 Cajsar ; so were you : 
 We both have fed as well ; and we can both 
 Endure the winter's "cold as well as he. 
 J'or once, upon a raw and gusty day, 
 The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 
 Caesar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, iwio 
 Leap in with me into this angry flood. 
 And swim, to yonder point? 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 
 With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside. 
 And stemming it with hearts of controversy. 
 But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 
 Caesar cried. Help me, Cassius, or I sitik. 
 I, as -33neas, 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 Cffisar : And tliis man 
 Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 
 A wretched creature, and must bend his body 
 If Caesar carelessly but nod on bira. 
 He had a fever when he was in Spain, 
 And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 
 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 licar him groan : 
 Ay, and that tongue of liis, that bade the Romans 
 Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 
 
 I
 
 SC. 2.] JTLIUS CESAR. 7 
 
 Alas ! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius, 
 
 As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 
 
 A mau of such a feeble temper should 
 
 So get the start of the majestic world, 
 
 And bear the palm aloue. [Shout. Flouriah. 
 
 55. Bru. Another general shout ! 
 
 I do believe, that these applauses are 
 
 For some new honours that are heaped on Cncsar. 
 
 56. Cas. "Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world. 
 Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 
 
 Walk imder his huge legs, and peep about 
 
 To find oui'selves dishonoui-able graves. 
 
 Men at some time are masters of their fates : 
 
 The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
 
 But in om'selves, that we are underlings. 
 
 Brutus and Ctesar : "Wliat should be in that C?csar ? 
 
 WTiy should that name be sounded more than yours ^ 
 
 Write them together, youi-s 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 Ca}sar. \_Shout. 
 
 Now, in the names of all the gods at once, 
 
 Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 
 
 That he is grown so great .' Age, thou art shamed : 
 
 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 Eome, 
 
 That lier wide walls encompassed but one man ? 
 
 Xow is it Rome indeed, and room enough, 
 
 When there is in it but one only man. 
 
 ! you and I have heard our fatlers say, 
 
 There was a Brutus once, that would have brooked 
 
 The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 
 
 As easily as a king. 
 
 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 recoimt hereafter ; for this present, 
 
 1 would not, so with love I might entreat you, ^ 
 
 Be any further moved. What you have said, 
 
 1 will consider ; what you have to say, 
 
 1 ^vill with patience hear : and find a time
 
 80 rniLOLOGiCAL commentakt. [act I. 
 
 Both meet to hear, and answer, such high things. 
 Till then, my noble Mend, 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^sak, a7id his Train. 
 Bru. The games are done and Caesar 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 Cajsar'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 ia conference by some senators. 
 
 62. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. 
 Cas. Antonius. 
 
 Ant. Csesar. 
 35. Cas. 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, CiTJsar ; he's not dangerous. 
 He is noble Boman, 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 ; 
 He is a great observer, and he looks 
 Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays, 
 As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music : 
 Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort, 
 As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit 
 Tljat could be moved to smile at any thing. 
 Such men as he be never at heart's case, 
 Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ; 
 And therefore are they very dangerous. 
 I rather tell tliee what is to be feared
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CiESAE. SI 
 
 Than what I fear ; for always I am CoDsar. 
 Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, 
 And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. 
 
 [_Senfiet. Exetoit C^sar and his Train. Casca stays behind. 
 
 Casca. You puUed 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. ^Tiy, 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, aud he put it by thrice, eveiy time 
 gentler than other; and, at every putting by, mine honest neighbours 
 shouted. 
 
 Cas. Who offered him the crown ? 
 
 Casca. Why, Antony. 
 
 Bru. Tell lis 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 
 cro'wn; — yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets; 
 — and, as I told you, he put it by once; but, for all that, to my 
 thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him 
 again; then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very 
 loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time ; 
 he put it the third time by : and, still as he refused it, the rabblcmcnt 
 shouted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty 
 night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar 
 refused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar ; for he swooned, 
 and fell down at it. And, for my own part, I dui'st not laugh, for 
 fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air. 
 
 83. Cas. But, soft, I pray you : What ? did Caesar swoon ? 
 
 Casca. He fell do^vn in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, 
 and was speechless. 
 
 85. Bru. 'Tis very like : he hath the falling sickness. 
 
 86. Cas. No, C<esar 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 Ca;sar
 
 82 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT I. 
 
 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 com- 
 mon 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. "WTien he 
 came to himself again, he said, If he had done, or said, anything 
 amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three 
 or four wenches, where I stood, cried ^^as, good soul! — aud forgave 
 him with all their hearts : But there's no heed to be taken of them ; 
 if C;esar 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 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 olf Caesai-'s images, 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, aud your dinner 
 worth the eating. 
 
 Cas. Good : I wiU expect you. 
 
 Casca. Do so : Farewell, both. \^Exit Casca. 
 
 102. Bni. 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 
 Wi*h 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,
 
 sc. 2.] jrLius ciESAE. 83 
 
 Come home to me, and I ^vi]\ wait for you. 
 105. Cas. I will do so : — till then, think of the world. 
 
 [Exit Brutis. 
 "Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yet, I see, 
 Thy honourable metal may be wrought 
 From that it is disposed : Therefore it is meet 
 That noble minds keep ever with their likes : 
 For who so fii-m, that cannot be seduced .' 
 Caesar 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 tlie great opinion 
 That Home holds of his name ; wherein obscui'ely 
 Cajsar's ambition shall be glanced at : 
 And, after this, let Ca3sar seat him sure ; 
 For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit. 
 
 Scene II. — Theoriginal heading here is: — "Enter Ccssar, 
 Antony for the Course, Ccilj^liurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, 
 Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer : after them Murel- 
 lus and Mavius." The three stage directions about the 
 Music are all modern. 
 
 23. Stand you directly, etc. — The sacerdotal runners 
 wore only a cincture of goat-skins, the same material of 
 which their thongs were made. The passage in Plutarch's 
 Life of Julius Caesar as translated by Sir Thomas North 
 is as foUows : — 
 
 " 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 Lyceians \_\vKtla] in Arcadia. But, howsoever 
 it is, that day there are divers noblemen's sons, young men (and some 
 of them magistrates 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 themselves that, being vdih child, they shall have 
 good delivery, and also, being barren, that it will make them conceive 
 with child. Cassar sat to behold that sport upon the pulpit for ora- 
 G 2
 
 84 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTABT. [aCT T. 
 
 tions, in a chair of gold, apparelled in triumphant manner. Antonius, 
 who was Consul at that time, was one of them that ronnc this holy 
 course " 
 
 Here, and in 25, as generally thronghoiit the Play, 
 Antonius is Antonio in the original text, and in all the 
 editions do\vn to that of Pope. 
 
 25. Their sterile curse. — Our English formations from 
 Latin words terminating in -His are in an nnsatisfactory 
 state in respect both of spelling and pronunciation. Of 
 the Latin words some have the il long, others short ; and 
 the former ought naturally to give in English -He (sound- 
 ed as in mile), the latter -il. But, instead of this, the 
 common usage is to spell them all indiscriminately with 
 the e, and to pronounce them as if they were without it. 
 Thus we have not only puerile, servile, subtile, juvenile, 
 hostile (ir ova jmerll is, servllis, juvenilis, hostllis), but also 
 docile, sterile, versatile, affile, fragile (from docUis, sterllis, 
 versatUis, aglUs,frag'ilis'). And, as for the pronunciation, 
 while Walker, holding the general rule to be that the i is 
 short, makes Exile, Senile, Edile, and Infantile (together 
 with Reconcile, Chamomile, and Estipile, — which last, 
 liowever, is not in his Dictionary, or in any other that I 
 have consulted), to be the only exceptions, Smart (1849) 
 gives no rule upon the subject (that I can find), leaves 
 Senile unmarked, and (omitting both Estipile and Cha- 
 mo7nile) seems to add Mercantile, and distinctly adds 
 Oentile, to Exile and Edile, as having the i long, and in 
 Infantile seems to give it short in the Dictionaiy, but dis- 
 tinctly marks it as long in the section of his " Principles " 
 to which a reference is made from the word. Eurther, as 
 if the confusion were not bad enough vdthout such 
 mechanical carelessness and blundering, in the stereo- 
 typed 8vo edition of Walker, 1819 (called the 21st edi- 
 tion), in a list given at page 36 (the same page in which 
 the strange word Estipile occurs) the * is printed with 
 the long instead of the short mark in Oentile, Virile, Sub-
 
 BC. 2.] JULIUS CJiSAE. 85 
 
 tile, CoctiJe, Quintile, Hostile, Servile, and Sextile, in 
 direct contradiction both to the Dictionary and to the 
 very statement with which the list is headed and intro- 
 duced. The present tendency of oiir pronunciation seems 
 to be to extend the dominion of the long i both in these 
 forms and even in the termination ite. In reading, at 
 least, the — He is now perhaps more usually pronounced 
 long than short in Hostile, Servile, and some other similar 
 instances ; and we sometimes hear even infinite pronoun- 
 ced with the /belong (as in Jinlfe), though such a pronun- 
 ciation is still oul}' that of the uneducated populace in 
 Opposite or Favourite. 
 
 32. Tlie Ides of March. — In the Eoman Kalendar the 
 Ides (Idus) fell on the 15th of March, May, July, and 
 October, and on the 13th of the eight remaining months. 
 
 34f. A sootJtsai/er, lids. — That is. It is a soothsayer, who 
 bids. It would not otherwise be an answer to Caesar's 
 question. The omission of the relative in such a con- 
 struction is still common. 
 
 39. The old stage direction here is ; — " Sennet. Exeunt. 
 Manet Brut, et Cass." The word Sennet is also variously 
 written Sennit, Senet, Si/nnet, Cijnet, Signet, and Signate. 
 Xares explains 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, differ- 
 ent from a flourish." ■ In Shakespeare it occurs again in 
 the present Play at 67, in the heading to Antony and 
 Cleopatra, ii. 7, in King Henry VIII, ii. 4, and in Corio- 
 lanus, i. 1 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 Pletcher's Kniglit 
 of Malta \^e have " Synnet, i. e. Flourish of Trumpets.^'' 
 But in Dekker's Satiromastix (1(302) we have " Trumpets 
 sound a flourish, and then a sennet." Steevens says ; — 
 " I have been informed that sennet is derived from sen- 
 ncste, an antiquated French tune formerly used in the
 
 86 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 army ; but the Dictionaries "whicli I have consulted 
 exhibit no such word." 
 
 44. Tliat gentleness . . . as I was, etc. — We should now 
 say " that gentleness tliat I was wont to have." But that 
 and as are by origin words of the same signification ; tliai, 
 or tliaet, being the neuter form of the Original English 
 article or demonstrative, and as being in all probability 
 (as remarked by Home Tooke, Diversions of Purley, p. 
 147) identical with the German es (still in continual use 
 in that language for our that or it). "The word as," 
 observes Dr Latham {JEnglish Language, p. 423), "pro- 
 perly a conjunction, is occasionally used as a relative — 
 the man as rides to marlcet. This expression is not to be 
 imitated." Clearly not. Such syntax is no longer, if it 
 ever was, a part of the language. But in many other 
 expressions which everybody uses, and the propriety of 
 which nobody has ever questioned, as is manifestly not a 
 conjunction, but a relative pronoun. For example, in 
 Pope's " All such reading as was never read," as is the 
 nominative to the verb. It acts in the same capacity in 
 the common phrases, " as is said," " as regards," " as ap- 
 pears," and others similarly constructed. It is not very, 
 long since the conjunction as was used at least in one 
 case in which we now always employ that. " So — «s," 
 says Bishop Lowth {Introd. to Ting. Oraml), "was used 
 by the writers of the last [17th] century to express a 
 consequence, instead of so — that. Swift [who died 1745], 
 I believe, is the last of our good writers who has fre- 
 quently used this manner of expression. It seems 
 improper, and is deservedly grown obsolete." That it is 
 obsolete cannot be dispvited, and it would therefore be an 
 impropriety in modern writing ; but Home Tooke is right 
 in objecting to Lowth that there is nothing tiaturally or 
 essentially Avrong in it ; it is wrong, if at all, only con- 
 ventionally. Exactly corresponding to this formerly 
 common use of the conjunctions 50 and as is Shakespeare's
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CESAK. 87 
 
 use in tlie present passage, and many others, of tlie pro- 
 nouns that and as. In " as I was wont to have," as is 
 the accusative of the relative pronoun governed by have, 
 " that gentleness, and show of love," being the antecedent. 
 The practice, common in most or all languages, of em- 
 ploying the same word as demonstrative and relative, is 
 famiKarized to us in English by our habitual use of that 
 in both capacities. 
 
 44<. Over your friend that loves you. — It I'd, friends m. 
 the Second Folio. 
 
 45. Merely upon myself. — Merely (from the Latin merits 
 and mere) means purely, only. It separates that which 
 it designates or qualifies from 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 ex- 
 cluded. In modern 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 possession before the mind, and characterizes 
 it as complete 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 necessaiy that that 
 which is included, though thus emphasized, should there- 
 fore be more definitely conceived than that with which it 
 is contrasted. So, again, when in Henry VIII., Hi. 2 
 (whoever may have \vritten that Play, or this passage),
 
 88 rniLOLOGicAL commentaet. [act I. 
 
 tlie Earl of Surrey charges "Wolsey with having sent large 
 supplies of substance to Eome " 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 onere would lead us to think of 
 something else, some possible aggravation of the undoing 
 (such, for 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 Turk- 
 ish fleet " (that is, the entire perdition or destruction). 
 In Helena's " Ay, surely, mere the truth," hi AlVs If ell 
 that Ends Well, Hi. 5, mere would seem to have the sense 
 of merely (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 understanding of our old 
 writers. Their ignorance of the old sense of this same 
 word merely has obscui'ed a passage in Bacon to his 
 modern editors. In his 58th Essay, entitled " Of Vicis- 
 situdes of Things," he says ; " As for conflagrations and 
 great droughts, they do not wiereZy dispeople and destroy" 
 — meaning, as the train of the reasoning clearly requires, 
 that they do not altogether do so. Most of the editors 
 (Mr Montague included) have changed "and destroy" 
 into "hut destroy;" others leave out the "not" before 
 merely ; either change being subversive of the meaning 
 of the passage and inconsistent with the context. The 
 reading of the old copies is confirmed by the Latin trans- 
 lation, done under Bacon's own su2)crintendence : — " Illae 
 \}0])v\mn penitiis non absorbent aut destruunt." 
 
 So in the 3rd Essay, " Of Unity in Eeligion," when we 
 are told that extremes would be avoided " if the point-s
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C.ESAE. 89 
 
 fundamental and of substance in religion were truly dis- 
 cerned and distinguished from poiuts not merely of faith, 
 but of opinion, order, or good intention," the meaning is, 
 from poiuts not altogether of faith, — not, were distinguish- 
 ed not only from points of faith, as a modern reader would 
 be apt to understand it. 
 
 45. Passions of some difference. — The meaning seems 
 to be, of some discordance, somewhat conflicting passions. 
 So we have a few lines rfifter, "poor Erutus, with himself 
 at war." 
 
 45. Conceptions only proper to myself. — Thoughts and 
 feelings relating exclusively to myself. 
 
 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. Se you one. — There are various kinds of being, or 
 of existing. What is here meant is, Be in yoiu- behef and 
 assiu'ance ; equivalent to Rest assured that you are. 
 
 45. iVbr construe any further my neglect. — Further is 
 the word in the old copies ; but Mr Collier, I observe, in 
 his one volume edition prints y(?r/7*er. Is this one of the 
 corrections of his MS. annotator ? It is sometimes su|)- 
 posed that, as farther answers to far, so further answers 
 to forth. But far and forth, or fore, are really only dif- 
 ferent forms of the same word, different corruptions or 
 modernizations of the old Original English yeor or forth. 
 
 46. / have much mistooh your passion. — That is, the 
 feeling under which you are suffering. Patience and pas- 
 sion (both from the Latin patior) 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, however, 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
 
 90 PHILOLOGICAL COMMESTART. [aCT I. 
 
 day as it has come to be in ours, wlien it retains the no- 
 tion of suffering only in two or three antique expressions ; 
 such as the iliac passion, 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 century. 
 Nor has the analogy of the reformed manner of expres- 
 sion 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 hy reflection, etc. — The " other things," must, 
 apparently, if we interpret the words with reference to 
 their connexion, 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 : — 
 
 "Xo, Cassius: 
 For the eye sees not itself but by reflection, 
 By some other things." 
 
 It may still be suspected that all is not quite right, and 
 possibly some words have dropped out. " By reflection, 
 by some other things " is hardly Shakespeare's style. It 
 is not customary with him to employ 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 liimself. Mr Collier, nevertheless, 
 prints itself. Is this a restoration of his MS. anuotator ? 
 There is a remarkable coincidence, both of thouglit and 
 of expression, between what we have here and the follow- 
 ing passage in Troilus and Cressida, Hi. 3 ; — 
 
 " Nor doth the eye itself, 
 That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself."
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CESAR. 91 
 
 And it may be -worth noting that these lines appear only 
 in the two original Quarto editions of the Play (1G09), 
 and are not in any of the Folios. 
 
 48. Many of the best respect. — A lost phrase, no longer 
 permissible even in poetry, although our only modern 
 equivalent is the utterly impoetical "many persons of the 
 highest respectability." So, again, in the present Play, 
 we have in 780, " Thou art a fellow of a good respect." 
 
 50. Tlierefore, good Brutus, etc. — The eager, impatient 
 temper of Cassius, absorbed in his OAvn one idea, is vividly 
 expressed by his thus continuing his argiuneut as if with- 
 out appearing to have even heard Brutus's interrupting 
 question ; for such is the only interpretation which his 
 therefore would seem to admit of. 
 
 50. And he not jealous on me. — This is the reading of 
 all the Folios ; and it has been restored to the test 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 Collier, have changed 
 the on into of. And everywhere else, I believe, Shake- 
 speare writes jealous of. But there seems to be no na- 
 tural 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 o/," we have in 
 Hamlet, i. 1, " All those his lands Which he stood seized 
 o;i." 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 ou't, Sir " (v. 1). 
 
 50. Were I a common laugher. — Pope made this cor- 
 rection, in which he has been followed by all subsequent 
 editors. In all the editions before his the reading is 
 laughter ; and the necessity or propriety of the change is
 
 92 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT T. 
 
 perhaps not so unquestionable as it has been generally 
 thought. I^either 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 562 : 
 " Hath Cassius lived to be but mirth and laughter to his 
 Brutus?" 
 
 50. To stale with ordinary oaths my love. — Johnson, 
 the only commentator who notices this expression, inter- 
 prets 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 tlie 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 Cleo- 
 patra, a. 2) ; " Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale 
 Her infinite variety"? So in 498, " Staled by other men." 
 
 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 (tkuv- 
 SaXii^o), 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. "NYliat means this Showting .' 
 I do feare, tlie People choose Ccesar 
 For their King. 
 
 Cassi. I, do you feare it ? " 
 
 53. If it he aught toward. — All that the prosody de- 
 mands here is that the word toward be 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 preposition, as it is here. Milton,
 
 SC. 2. J JULIUS C.TiSAJl. 93 
 
 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 Honour in one eye, etc. — This passage has oc- 
 casioned some discussion. Johnson's explanation 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." 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 Honour and 
 Death indifferently, if they present themselves together, 
 is merely that, for the sake of the honour, 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 honour to 
 be cheaply purchased even by the loss of life ; that price 
 will never make him falter or hesitate in clutching at 
 such a prize. He must be understood to set honour 
 above hfe from the first ; that he shoidd 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 oiu" 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." 
 
 54. Your outward favour. — A wwivC ^ favour is his aspect 
 or appearance. " In beauty," says Bacon, in his 48rd 
 JEssay, " that of favour is more than that of colour ; and 
 that of decent and gracious motion more than that of 
 favour." The word is now lost to us in that sense ; but we 
 still use favoured with tvell, ill, and perhaps other qualify- 
 ing terms, for featured or looking ; as in Gen. xJi. 4 : — 
 "The ill-favoured and lean-fleshed kine did eat up the 
 seven well-favoured and fat kine." Favour seems to be 
 used for face from the same confusion or natural trans-
 
 94 PHILOLOGICAL COilMEXTART. [aCT I. 
 
 ference of meaning between the expressions for the feel- 
 ing in the jnind and the outward indication of it in tlie 
 look that has led to the word countenance, which com- 
 monly denotes the latter, being sometimes employed, by 
 a process the reverse of what we have in the case of 
 favour, in the sense of at least one modification of the 
 former ; as when we sj)eak of any one giving something 
 bis countenance, or countenancing it. In this case, how- 
 ever, it ought to be observed that countenance has the 
 meaning, not simply of favourable feeling or approbation, 
 but of its expression or avowal. The French terms from 
 which we have borrowed owi favour and countenance do 
 not appear to have either of them undergone the trans- 
 ference of meaning which has befallen the English forms. 
 But contenance, 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 vrriting and 
 printing mg self. Vid. 56. 
 
 54. / had as lief — Lief (sometimes written leef or 
 leve), in the comparative liefer or lever, in the superlative 
 liefest, is the Original English leaf, of the same meaning 
 with our modern dear. " JSTo modern author, I believe," 
 says Home Tooke {D. of P. 261), "would now venture 
 any of these words in a serious passage ; and they seem 
 to be cautiously shunned or ridieided in common con- 
 versation, as a vulgarity. But they are good English 
 words, and more frequently used by our old English writ- 
 ers than any other word of a corresponding siguification." 
 The common modern substitute for lief is soon, and for 
 liefer, sooner or rather, which last is properly the compa- 
 rative of rath, or rathe, signifying earlg, not found in 
 Shakespeare, but used in one expression — "the rathe
 
 SC. 2.] JULirS CESAR. 05 
 
 primrose" {Lycidas, 142) — by JMilton, who altogether 
 ignores lief. Lief, liefer., and liefest, are all common in 
 Spenser. Shakespeare has lief pretty frequently, but 
 never liefer ; Sbudliefest occurs only in the Second Part of 
 King Henry VI., where, in Hi. 1, we have " My liefest 
 liege." In the same Play, too (i. 1), we have " Mine 
 aJderliefest sovereign," meaning dearest of all. " This 
 beautiful word," says Mr Knight, " is a Saxon compound. 
 Alder, of all, is thus frequently joined with an adjective 
 of the superlative degree, — as alderfirst, alderlast." But 
 it cannot be meant that sucli combinations are freq^uent 
 in the English of Shakespeare's day. They do occur, in- 
 deed, in a preceding stage of the language. Alder is a 
 corrupted or at least modified form of the Original Eng- 
 lish genitive plural aller, or all re ; it is that strengthened 
 hj the interposition of a supporting d (a common expe- 
 dient). Aller, with the same signification, is still familiar 
 in Grerman compounds. — The effect and construction of 
 lief in Middle English may be seen in the following ex- 
 amples from Chaucer : — " For him was lever ban at his 
 beddes head" (C. T. Pro. 295), that is. To him it was 
 dearer to have (lever a monosyllable, heddes a dissyllable) ; 
 "Xe, 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" (a 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 loathing. — We may remark the evidently intended 
 connexion in sound between the lief and the live, or 
 rather the attraction by which the one word has naturally 
 produced or evoked the other. 
 
 54. C(JBsar said to me, etc. — In the Second Folio it is 
 " C«sar saies to lUc;." And three lines lower down it ir 
 there " Accounted as I Avas." Other errors of that copy
 
 96 PHILOLOGICAL COMME>'TAET. [aCT I. 
 
 in tlie same speeeli are " cliasing with lier shores," and 
 " He had a Feaher when he was in Spaine." 
 
 54. Arrive the point proposed. — Arrive without the now 
 indispensahle 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 MiJton has the same construction (P. L. ii. 409) : — 
 " Ere he arrive 
 The happy isle." 
 
 54r. /, as ^neas, etc. — This commencement of the sen- 
 tence, although necessitating the not strictly grammatical 
 repetition of the first personal pronoun, is in fine rhetori- 
 cal 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 differently in the original 
 edition from the adverb of affirmation in " Ay, and that 
 tongue of his," a few lines lower do^vn. Nor are the two 
 words anywhere distinguished. It may be doubted 
 whether Macbeth's great exclamation (ii. 2) should not 
 be printed (as it is by Steevens) ""Wake Duncan with 
 thy knocking : Ay, would thou could'st ! " (instead of " I 
 would," as commonly given). 
 
 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 oft' the Spenser- 
 ian stanza, and also frequently makes the second line in 
 a rhymed couplet or tlie third in a triplet. It might per- 
 haps be going too far to say that a proper Alexandrine is 
 inadmissible in blank verse. There would seem to be 
 nothing in the principle of blank verse opposed to the 
 occasional employment of the Alexandrine ; but the
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C.ESAB. 97 
 
 custom of our moderii poetry excludes such a variation 
 even from dramatic blaulc verse ; aud unquestionably by 
 far the greater number of the lines in Shakespeare which 
 have been assumed by some of his editors to be Alexan- 
 drines are only instances of the ordinary heroic line with 
 the very common peculiarity of certain superfluous short 
 syllables. That is all that we have here,— the ordinary heroic 
 line overflowing its bounds, — which, besides that great 
 excitement will excvise 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 re- 
 membered toil. 
 
 51. Sis coward Ups did from their colour jlij. — There 
 can, I think, be no question that "Warbiu*ton is right in 
 holding that we have here a pointed allusion to a soldier 
 flying from his colours. The lips would never otherwise 
 be made to fly from their colour, instead of their colour 
 from them. The figure is quite in Shakespeare's manner 
 and spirit. But we may demur to calling it, with War- 
 burton, merely " a poor quibble." It is a forcible expi'es- 
 sion of scorn and contempt. Such passions are, by their 
 nature, not always lofty and decorous, but rather creative 
 and reckless, and mox'e given to the pungent than the 
 elegant. 
 
 54. Did lose his lustre. — There is no personification 
 here. His was formerly neuter as well as masculine, or 
 the genitive of // as well as of He ; and his lustre, mean- 
 ing the lustre of the eye, is the same form of expression 
 that Ave have in the texts : — " The fruit-tree yielding fruit 
 after his kind, whose seed is in itself" {Gen. i. 11) ; " It 
 shall bruise thy head, aud thou shalt bruise his heel" 
 (Gen. Hi. 15) ; "If the salt have lost his savour" {Matt. 
 V. 13, and Luke xiv. 34) ; " If the salt have lost his salt- 
 ness " {Mark ix. 50) ; " When they were past the first 
 
 u
 
 98 ruiLOLoaicAL commentary. [act i, 
 
 and the second vravd, they came unto the iron gate that 
 leadeth unto the city, which opened to them of Jiis 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 523, we have "That every nice offence should 
 bear his comment ; " and in Antony and Cleopatra, v. 1, 
 " The heart where mine his thoughts did kindle." One 
 of the most curious and decisive examples of the neuter 
 his occurs in Coriolanus, i. 1 : — 
 
 "i< [the belly] tauntingly replied 
 To the discontented members, the mutinous parts 
 That envied his receipt." 
 
 Its, however, is found in Shakespeare. There is one in- 
 stance in Pleasure for Measure, i. 2, where Lvicio'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 : — 
 
 "How sometimes Nature will betray it's folly? 
 It's tendernesse? and make it self'e a Pastime 
 To harder bosomes ? Looking on tlie Lynos 
 Of my Boyes face, me thoughts I did rcquoyle 
 Twentie three yeeres, and saw my selfc vnbrocch'd. 
 In my grcene Velvet Coat; my Dagger muzzel'd, 
 liuast it should bite it's Master, aud so prove 
 (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
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C^SAE. 99 
 
 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 mc, let me know my Trcspas 
 By it's owne visage." 
 
 And again, in iii. 3, we have Antigonus, when about to 
 lay do\vn 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 lyhich the modern editors also give us its ; 
 but in these the original text has it. 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 
 {Pliil. Fro. i. 280) has observed that in the dialects of 
 the JS^orth-AYestern Counties formerly it was sometimes 
 used for its ; and that, accordingly, we have not only in 
 Shakespeare's King John, ii. 1, " Goe to yt grandame, 
 child .... and it grandame wtU give 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, ]!^unckle, the Hedge-Sparrow 
 fed the Cuckoo so long, that it's had it head bit oft" 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 
 
 H 2
 
 100 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aOT I. 
 
 the Second Polio, in whicli it stands, " that it had its head 
 bit off by it young"). This use of it is still familiar ia 
 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 it self commonly 
 printed in two words, evidently under the impression that 
 it was a possessive, of the same syntactical force mth the 
 pronouns in my self, your self, her self. And even now 
 we do not write itsself Formerly, too, according to Dr 
 Gruest, they often said even " The King wife," etc., for 
 " The King's wife." So he holds that in such modem 
 phrases as " The idea of a thing being abstracted," or " of 
 it being abstracted," tiling and it are genitives, for thinfs 
 and its. 
 
 We have also either it or its in another passage of Lear, 
 where Albany, in iv. 2, speaks of "that nature which 
 condemns its origin." The passage is not in the Folios ; 
 but, if we may trust to Jennens, the First Quarto has ith, 
 the Second it, for the its of the modern text. Both those 
 Quartos are of 1608; and there is also a third of the 
 same year, but the reading in that is not noted by the 
 commentators. 
 
 I am indebted to Dr Trench, the Dean of "Westminster, 
 for calling my attention to one passage in our English 
 Bible, Levit. xxv. 5, in which, although the modern re- 
 prints give us " that which groweth of its own accord," 
 the reading in the original edition is " of it O'vvn accord." 
 In Luther's German version the phrase here is the same 
 that is employed in Acts xii. 10, quoted above, where we 
 have " of his own accord : " — von ihin selher in the one case, 
 von ihr selbst in the otlier. 
 
 Dr Guest asserts that its was used generally by the 
 dramatists of the age to wliicli the authorized version of 
 the Bible belongs, and also by many of their contempor- 
 aries. Dr Trench, in his English, Past and Present, 
 doubts whether Milton has once admitted it into Paradise
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CjESAE. 101 
 
 Lost, " although, when that was composed, others fre- 
 quently 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 
 IMrs 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." Gener- 
 ally, 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, as in the above examples, that 
 he reluctantly accepts the services of the little parveiiu 
 monosyllable. 
 
 Mr Singer, in a note to his edition of the Essays and 
 Wisdom of tlie Ancients, p. 200, seems to intimate that 
 its is nowhere used by Bacon. Like Shakespeare and 
 other writers of the time, he has frequently his in the 
 neuter. 
 
 Dr Trench notices the fact of the occurrence of its in 
 liotdei/'s Poems as decisive against their genuineness. 
 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 
 inacciu'acy in his English diction, among other coimts of 
 his indictment, quotes this line of Catiline, 'Though 
 heaven should speak with all his wrath at once ; ' and pro- 
 ceeds, ' Heaven is ill syntax with his.'' " This is a curious 
 evidence of how completely the former humble condition 
 and recent rise of the now fully established vocable had 
 come to be generally forgotten in a single generation. 
 
 The need of it, indeed, must have been much felt. If 
 it was convenient to have the two forms He and It m. the 
 nominative, and Him and It in the other cases, a similar 
 distinction between the Masculine and the JS^euter of the 
 genitive must have been equally required for perspicuous
 
 102 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENT ART. [aCT I. 
 
 expression. Even the personifying power of his was im- 
 paired by its being applied to both genders. Milton, 
 consequently, 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 
 haYe (P. L. i. 723) " The ascending pile Stood fixed her 
 stately height ; " (ii. 4) " The gorgeous East with richest 
 hand Showers on her kings ; " {ii. 175) " What if all Jler 
 stores were opened, and this firmament Of hell should 
 spout //er 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;" (Co?n. 396) 
 " Beauty . . . had need ... To save her blossoms and 
 defend Z^er 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 masciiline personifications are comparatively 
 rare, and are only ventured upon either where he does 
 not require to use the pronoun, or where its gender can- 
 not be mistaken. 
 
 Milton himself, however, nowhere, I believe, uses his in 
 a neuter sense.* He felt too keenly the annoyance 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. Eirst, we have his serving for 
 
 * Unless the follo^ring were to be considered as an instance : — 
 " It Avas a mountain, at whose verdant feet 
 A spacious plain, outstretched in circuit wide, 
 Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flowed." 
 
 Par. Reg. Hi. 255. 
 But W'id feet, instead oi foot, would seem to intimate that we are to re- 
 gard the mountain as personified here.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C^SAE. 103 
 
 both masculine and neuter; secondly, we have his re- 
 stricted to the masculine, and the neuter left without or 
 with hardly any recognized form ; thirdly, we have the 
 defect of the second stage remedied by the frank adoption 
 of the heretofore rejected its. And the most curious 
 thing of aU in the history of the word its is the extent to 
 which, before its recognition as a word admissible in seri- 
 ous composition, even the occasion for its employment 
 was avoided or eluded. This is very remarkable in Shake- 
 speare. The very conception Avhich we express by its 
 probably does not occur once in his works for ten times 
 that it is to be found in any modem 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 Original English personal pronoun was, in the 
 Nominative singular, lie for the Masculine, Heo for the 
 Eeminine, and Hit for the Neuter. He we still retain ; 
 for Heo we have substituted She, apparently a modifica- 
 tion of Seo, the Feminine of the Demonstrative {Se, Seo, 
 Thaet) ; Hit we have converted into It (though the aspi- 
 rate 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 modern G-erman 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 
 genders in our ancient English were distinguished both 
 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, however 
 convenient, is quite an iri*egular formation : the t of it 
 (originally hit) is merely the sign of the neuter gender, 
 which does not enter into the inflection, leaving the
 
 104 PHILOLOGICAL COilMENTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 natural genitive of that gender (lii, his) substantially 
 identical with that of the masculine (Jie, he-s, hi-s). 
 
 54, 55. — And hear the palm alone. — Another general 
 shout ! — Two hemistichs or broken liaes thus following 
 one another are not necessarily to be regarded as pros- 
 odically 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 especi- 
 ally Steevens, iato a great deal of uncalled-for chopping 
 and tinkering of the old text. 
 
 56. JBut in ourselves. — In the original edition 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 hi7nself or them- 
 selves. Vid. 54. 
 
 50. What should he 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 expression, by the use 
 of the subjunctive for the indicative and of the past for 
 the present, which characterize not only the Greek and 
 Latin languages but even the Grerman, 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 benumb- 
 iag touch of the logic by which it has been trained and 
 cultivated. 
 
 56. More than yours. — Here and everywhere else, it 
 may be noticed once for all, our modern than is then in 
 the old text. Vid. Prolegomena, Sect. v. 
 
 56. Become the mouth as well. — Always asivell, as one 
 word, in the First Folio. 
 
 56. The hreed of nohle hloods. — We scarcely now use 
 this plural. Shakespeare has it several times; as after- 
 wards in 645, " I know young bloods look for a time of
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C^SAU. 105 
 
 rest ; " in Much Ado About Nothing, Hi. 3, where Boracio 
 remarks how giddily fashion " turns about all the hot 
 bloods between fourteen and five and thirty;" in Tlie 
 Winter's Tale, i. 1, where Leontes says, " To mingle 
 friendship far is mingling bloods;" in King John, ii. 1, 
 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 ivide walls encompassed but one man. — The 
 old reading is "wide tvalJcs.^'' 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 Eome's wide icalJcs may mean is not obvious ; still 
 less, how she could be encompassed by her ivalks, how- 
 ever wide. The correction to loalls has the authority of 
 Mr Collier's MS. annotator, but had been conjecturally 
 adopted down to the time of Malone by most of the 
 modem editors, from Eowe inclusive. 
 
 56. JS'ow is it Rome indeed, and room enough. — Shake- 
 speare' s pronunciation of ^o??i(S seems to have been Room. 
 Besides the passage before us we have afterwards in the 
 present Play (368) "Xo Eome of safety for Octavius 
 yet ; " and in King John, iii. 1, " That I have room with 
 Eome to curse a while." In the First Part of King 
 JEEenry the Sixth, it is true, we have the other pronunci- 
 ation; there (iii. 2), the Bishop of Winchester having 
 exclaimed "Eome shall remedy this," Warwick replies 
 ^^ Roam thither, then." This little fact is not -n-ithout its 
 significance in reference to the claim of that Play to be 
 laid at Shakespeai'e's door. 
 
 56. But one only man. — In the original text " but one 
 onely man," probably indicating that the pronunciation
 
 100 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEIfTAIlT. [aCT T. 
 
 of the mimeral and of the first syllable of the adverb was 
 the same. 
 
 56. There was a Brutus once, that ivould have brooked. 
 — To hrooh (originally brucan), for to endure, to submit 
 to, is one of those old words which every one still imder- 
 stands but no one uses, unless it may be some studious 
 imitator of the antique. 
 
 57. That you do love one, I am nothing jealous. — I 
 am nowhat 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 
 many similar ones familiar to the freer spirit of the 
 language two centuries ago, would now scarcely be ven- 
 tured upon. 
 
 57. / have some aim. — Aim, in old Prench eyme, esme, 
 and estme, is the same Avord with esteem (from the Latin 
 cBstimatio and cBstimare), 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 in- 
 tention to hit, or catch, or in some other way attain, that 
 to which the view is directed. It does not seem impossi- 
 ble that the Trench name for the loadstone, aimant, may 
 be from the same root, although it has usually been con- 
 sidered to be a corruption of adamant. A ship's reckon- 
 ings are called in French estimes, which is undoubtedly 
 the same word with our aims. In the French of the 
 early part of the sixteenth century we find esme and es^ne 
 (or esmez, as it was commonly written) confounded with 
 the totally difi"erent aimer, to love. Rabelais, for instance, 
 writes blen aymez for bien esmez, well disposed. See 
 Duchat's Note on liv. I., ch. 5. 
 
 57. For this prese7it. — So, in the Absolution, "that 
 tliose things may please liim whicli we do at this present." 
 This expression, formerly in universal use and good repute,
 
 sc. 2.] juLirs cj:sae. 107 
 
 now remains only a musty law phrase, never admitted 
 into ordinary composition except for ludicrous effect. 
 
 57. So tvith Jove I might entreat you. — This form of ex- 
 pression is still preserved both in our own language and 
 in German. Thus {John 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 equivalent to if. But so, according to Home 
 Tooke (2). of P., 147), is merely the Moeso-Gothic de- 
 monstrative 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 pronomia- 
 ally ; as Das Buch, so ihr mir gegeheii Jiaht (the book 
 which you gave me). Something of the same kind, as 
 we hare already seen (41), takes place even in English 
 with as, which is perhaps only another form of so or sa. 
 Upon this theory, aU that so will perform in such a pass- 
 age as the present vdll 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 sup- 
 position, or assumption, will be left to be inferred. That 
 fact, however, would be expressed by the so according to 
 the doctrine of Dr Webster, who conceives the word to 
 be derived from some Hebrew or other root signif^-ing to 
 compose, to set, to still. " This sense," he aflBrms, " is re- 
 tained in the use of the word by milkmaids, who say to 
 cows so, so, that is, stand still, remain as you are." Such 
 an application of the term, I apprehend, is not peculiar 
 to the milkmaid tongue, — a familiai'ity with which, how- 
 ever, is certainly carrying linguistic knowledge a great 
 way. — The Pirst Folio points, blunderingly, "I would 
 not so (with love I might intreat you)." 
 
 57. Be ang further moved. — Here again, as in 45, Mr 
 Collier prints farther, though further is the reading of 
 both the First and the Second Folio.
 
 108 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT I. 
 
 57. Chew upon this. — "We have lost the native word in 
 this application ; but we retain the metaphor, only trans- 
 lating chew into the Latin equivalent, ruminate. 
 
 57. Brutus had rather he . . . than to repute. — The 
 sense of the verb Have in the phrase Had rather is pecu- 
 liar. Johnson calls it barbarous. AVebster asks, " Is 
 not this phrase a corruption of would rather ? " It has 
 the same sense, as we have seen (54), in Had as lief, and 
 in the older Had liefer, or lever. This verb (one very 
 variously applied in some other languages, — witness the 
 il y a oi the French, the vi ha "or havvi of the Italian, the 
 ha or hay of the Spanish, as well as certain constructions 
 of the Greek i-xf-iv) may have been employed by us for- 
 merly with more latitude of signification than now. We 
 still say Have at him, and, with a somewhat difierent sense. 
 Have at you. Even Shakespeare has, in IRich. II., Hi. 3, 
 " Me rather had my heart might feel your love 
 Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy." 
 
 There is also the phrase. Had like, not yet quite gone 
 out, of which all that Dr Webster has to say is, that it 
 seems to be a corruption, — unless, he adds, like be here 
 a noun, and used for resemblance or probability (which 
 it may be safely affirmed that it is not). The to before 
 repute is, apparently, to be defended, if at all, upon the 
 ground that had rather is equivalent in import to loould 
 prefer, and that, although it is only an auxiliary before 
 he a villager, it is to be taken as a common verb before to 
 repute. It is true that, as we have seen (1), the to was 
 in a certain stage of the language 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 
 softened or disguised in the passage before us by the in- 
 tervening words.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CISAE. 109 
 
 57. Under these hard conditions as. — This is the read- 
 ing in all the old copies ; these — as wliere we shoidd now 
 say such — as, or those — that. If such, so, as, that (or 
 this) be all etymologically of the same or nearly the same 
 signification, they would naturally, till custom regulated 
 their use, and assigned a distinct function to each, be 
 interchangeable one with another. Thus 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 
 certauily at any rate unusual. IMr Collier prints, upon 
 the authority of his MS. corrector, " under such hard 
 conditions." I should suspect the true reading to be 
 " under those hard conditions." Vid. 44. 
 
 57. Is like. — This form of expression is not quite, but 
 nearly, gone out. We now commonly say is lilcely. 
 
 58. / wm glad that my weak words. — In this fii'st line 
 of the speech of Cassius and the last of the preceding 
 speech of Brutus we have two hemistichs, having no pros- 
 odical coiuiexion. It was never intended that they 
 should form one line, and no toi*tm*uig can make them 
 do so. 
 
 Be-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 icill do so, etc. — Throughout the Play, the ius of 
 Cassius (as also of JLiicilius) makes sometimes only one 
 syllable, sometimes two, as here. 
 
 62. Being crossed in conference, etc. — If the heing and 
 conference 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. 
 
 65. Let me have men ahout me, etc. — Some of the ex- 
 pressions in this speech are e\"idently suggested by those 
 of North in his translation of Plutarch's Life of Caesar ;
 
 110 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCX I. 
 
 — " AVlien Caesar's friends complained unto him of Anto- 
 nius and Dolabella, that they pretended [i. e. intended] 
 some mischief towards 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 Cassius." 
 65. Such as sleep o' nights. — That is, on nights ; as 
 o'.cloch 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 discrim- 
 inate by on and in are confused, and are both expressed 
 by an, on, un, in, or in composition by the contractions a 
 or 0. The form here in the original text is a-nights. 
 
 65. Yond Cassius. — 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. See, upon the origin of 
 Yonder, Dr Latham's Eng. Lang. 375. 
 
 66. Jf^ell 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. Yet, if my name. — A poetic idiom for "Yet, if I, 
 bearing the name I do." In the case of Csesar 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 mil 
 remember the magnificent passage (P. L. ii. 964) : — 
 
 " 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 Demogorgon." 
 
 67. Liahletofear. — The word Viahle has been somewhat 
 restricted in its application since Shakespeare's time.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C^SAB. Ill 
 
 "We should scarcely noAV speak of a person as liable to 
 fear. And see 249 for another application of it stiU far- 
 ther away from our present usage. 
 
 G7. Such men as he, etc. — In this and the following 
 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 language has not in each of these instances lost 
 something which it would have been the better for re- 
 taining. But it seems to be a law of every language 
 which has become thoroughly subdued under the domin- 
 ion of grammar, that perfectly sjniouymous terms cannot 
 live in it. If varied forms are not saved by having dis- 
 tinct senses or functions assigned to each, they are throvm 
 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 wiU only be a correct representation of thought 
 if there should never be any the shghtest variation of the 
 one without a corresponding vai'iation of the other. But 
 the principle is not necessarily inconsistent with the ex- 
 istence of various forms which should be recognized as 
 differing in no other respect whatever except only in vocal 
 character ; and the language woidd be at least musically 
 richer with more of this kind of variety. It is what it 
 regards as the irregularity or lawlessness, however, 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 lan- 
 guages. 
 
 67. Eor the present stage direction at the end of this 
 speech, we have in the original text " Sennit. Exeunt 
 CcBsar and his Traine.^'' 
 
 G9. What hath chanced to-day. — So in 71 ; where, also,
 
 112 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 most of the modern editions liave " what hath chanced," 
 Mr Collier's one-volume edition included, although had 
 is the word in all the Folios. Instead of to chance in 
 this sense we now usually say to happen. Chance is a 
 French word (from the cas- of the Latin casus strength- 
 ened by the common expedient of inserting an n) ; hap- 
 pen, hap, and also happy, appear to be derivatives from a 
 Welsh word, hap or hob, luck, fortune. The Original 
 English verb was hefeallan, from which also we have still 
 to befall. 
 
 78. Ay, marry, loasH. — This term of asseveration, marry, 
 which Johnson seems to speak of as still in common use 
 in his day, is found in Chaucer in the form Mary, and 
 appears to be merely a mode of swearing by the Holy 
 Virgin. 
 
 78. JEvery time gentler than other. — I do not know that 
 this use of other will be admitted to be of the same natiu-e 
 with that which we have in Macbeth, i. 7, where the reading 
 of the First Folio is " Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps 
 itself, And falls on the other." The other in both pass- 
 ages ought perhaps to be considered as a substantive, as 
 it still is in other cases, though it is no longer used exactly 
 in this way. So in Meas. for Meas. iv. 4 ; — ^" Every letter 
 he hath writ hath disvouched other." 
 
 82. The rabblement shouted. — The first three Folios 
 have howted, the Foui-th houted. The common reading 
 is hooted. But this is entLrely inconsistent with the con- 
 text. The people applauded w^hen Ca;sar refused, the 
 ci'own, and only hissed or hooted when they thought he 
 was about to accept it. Shouted Avas substituted on con- 
 jecture by Hanmer, and almost indicates itself; but it has 
 also the support of Mr Collier's MS. annotator. 
 
 82. Their chopped hands. — In the old copies chopt. 
 Mr Collier, however, has chapped. 
 
 82. For he sicooned. — Swoonded is the word in all the 
 Folios,
 
 8C. 2.] ^ JULIUS c;esar. 113 
 
 83. Did Ccesar stcoon ? — Here swouncl 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 punctuation of the 
 early copies, " 'Tis very like he hath," etc. CcBsar's in- 
 firmity was notorious ; it is mentioned both by Plutarch 
 and Suetonius. 
 
 86. And honest Casca, etc. — The slight interruption to 
 the flow of this line occasioned by the superniunerary 
 syllable in Casca adds greatly to the efiect of the emj)hatic 
 ive that follows. It is like the swell of the wave before 
 it breaks. 
 
 87. If the tag-rag people. — In Coriolanus, Hi. 1, we have 
 "Will you hence, before the tag return." "This," says 
 Nares, " is, perhaps, the only instance of tag without his 
 companions rag and lobfail, or at least one of them." 
 
 87. JS'o true man. — No honest man, as we should now 
 say. Jtu-ymen, as Malone remarks, are still styled " good 
 men and true." 
 
 89. He plucked me ope 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 Trench Monsieur. That 
 is to say, it has no proper pronominal significancy, but 
 merely serves (in so far as it has any eifect) to enliven 
 or other^vise 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." Vid. 205 and 471. 
 
 The best commentary on the use of the pronoun that 
 we have here is the dialogue between Petrucio and his 
 servant Grrumio, in Tam. 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
 
 ll-i PHILOLOaiCAL C0M::METfTA2T. [aCT I. 
 
 here, sir ? Pet. Yillain, I say, knock me at tliis gate, and 
 rap me \Tell, or I'll knock your knave's pate. Gru. My 
 master is grown quarrelsome : I should knock you first. 
 And then I know after who comes by the worst. . . . Hor- 
 fensio. How now, what's the matter ? . . . Gru. Look 
 you, sir, — ^he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, sir : 
 Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so ? . . . 
 Pei. A senseless villain ! — Good Hortensio, I bade the 
 rascal knock upon your gate, And could not g«t 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 23rd) : — " Certainly it is the 
 nature of extreme self-lovers, as they vnll set an house on 
 fire, and it were but to roast their eggs ; " and (Essay 
 40th) : — " Eor time is to be honoured and respected, and 
 it were but for her daughters, Confidence and Reputation." 
 
 95. Marullus and Flavius. — In this instance the Ma- 
 rullus is Murrellus in the Eirst Eolio (instead of Miirel- 
 lus, as elsewhere). 
 
 97. I am promised forth. — An old phrase for I have an 
 engagement. 
 
 102. He was quich mettle. — This is the reading of all 
 the old copies. Mr CoUier, however, in his regulated 
 text, has mettled, but not, it would appear, on the authority 
 of his MS. corrector. I have allowed the distinction 
 made by the modern editors between metal and mettle to 
 stand throughout the Play, although there can be little 
 doubt that the latter form is merely a corruption of the 
 former, and that the supposed two words are the same.
 
 BC. 2.] JULIUS CvESAR. 115 
 
 In the First Folio it is always mettle ; in 16 and 105, as 
 well as here and in 177 and 50G. Dr AVebstei*, however, 
 thinks that mettle may be the Welsh mezwl or methivl, 
 mind. 
 
 103. However lie puts on. — AVe should hardly now use 
 however, in this sense, wath the indicative mood. We 
 should have to say, " However he may put on." — This 
 tardjj form : this shape, semblance, of tardiness or dulness. 
 
 104. / tvill come home to you . . . Come home to me. — 
 To come home to one, for to come to one's house, is an- 
 other 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 omis- 
 sion, not only of the relative, which can easily be dis- 
 pensed with, but also of the preposition governing it, 
 which is an essential part of the verb ; but, illegitimate 
 as such syntax may be, it is common with our writers 
 down to a date long subsequent to Shakespeare's age. 
 Vid. 224. 
 
 105. Therefore H is meet. — It is (instead of 'ti-i) is the 
 reading of the First Folio, which has been restored by 
 Mr Knight. Tlie excess here is of a syllable (theybreof 
 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 accord- 
 ance with the grave and severe spirit of the passage. 
 
 105. With their lilies. — We scarcely use this substan- 
 tive now. 
 
 105. Ccesar doth hear me hard. — Evidently an old phrase 
 for does not like me, bears me a grudge. It occurs again 
 in 199, and a third time in 345. 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 Eowe, Pope, Hanmer, and
 
 116 PHILOLOGICAL COirME>'TAIlT. [aCT I. 
 
 even Capel. IMr 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. 
 
 105. JSe sJwtdd not humour me. — The meaning seems 
 to be. If I were in4iis position (a favourite with Caesar), 
 and he in mine (disliked by Caesar), he should not cajole, 
 or trn-n and wind, me, as I now do him. He and one are 
 to be contrasted by the emphasis, in the same manner as 
 I and he in the preceding line. This is "Warburton's ex- 
 planation ; whose remark, however, that the words convey 
 a reflection on Brutus's ingratitude, seems ujifounded. 
 It is rather Brutus's simplicity that Cassius has in his 
 mind. It would be satisfactory, however, if other ex- 
 amples could be produced of the use of the verb to humour 
 in the sense assumed. Johnson appears to have qiute 
 mistaken the meaning of the passage : he takes the he to 
 be not Brutus, but Caesar ; and his iuterpretation is, " his 
 (that is, Caesar's) love should not take hold of my affec- 
 tion, so as to make me forget my principles." 
 
 105. 1)1 several hands. — "Writings in several hands. 
 
 105. Let Ccesar seat him sure. — Seat himself firmly (as 
 on horseback) . 
 
 SCENE III.— The sanie. A Street. 
 
 Thunder and Lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, CascA, with 
 his sword drawn, and Cicero. 
 
 106. Cic. Good even, Casca ; Brought ^'ou Cajsar home ? 
 "Why are you breathless ? and why stare you so ? 
 
 107. Casca. Arc not you moved, wlien all the sway of earth 
 Shakes, like a thing unfirm .' Cicero, 
 
 I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
 Have rived tlic knotty oaks ; and I have seen 
 The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, 
 To be exaltqd with the threatening clouds :
 
 sc. 3.] jnius c.xsAE. 117 
 
 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 witli the gods, 
 Incenses them to send destruction. 
 
 108. Cio. 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 joiaed; and yet his hand, 
 Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched. 
 Besides (I have not since put up my sword). 
 Against the Capitol I met a lion, 
 "Who glared upon me, and went surly by, 
 "Without annoying me : And there were drawn 
 Upon a heap a hundi-ed ghastly women, 
 Transformed with their fear ; who swore they saw 
 Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. 
 And yesterday the biid of night did sit, 
 Even at noon-day, upon the market-place, 
 Hooting, and shiieking. 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. 
 
 110. 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 Ca>sar to the Capitol to-morrow .•" 
 
 Casca. He doth ; for he did bid Antonius 
 Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow. 
 112. Cic. Good night, then, Casca : this disturbed sky 
 Is not to walk in. 
 
 Casca. Farewell, Cicero. \_Exit Cicekc. 
 
 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 sh-eets, 
 Submitting me unto the perilous night ;
 
 lis PIIILOLOGICAL COMilENXARY. [aCT I. 
 
 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, "I 
 
 Wliy all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, 1 
 
 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, I 
 
 To monstrous quality ; why, you shall find, ' 
 
 That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, 
 To make them instruments of fear and warning 
 Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, 
 Name to thee 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 prodigious grown, 
 And fearful, as these sti-ange eruptions are. 
 
 Casca. 'Tis CfBsar that you mean : Is it not, Cassius .' 
 124. Cas. Let it be who it is : for Romans now 
 Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors, 
 But, woe the while ! our fathers' minds are dead, 
 And we are governed with our mothers' spirits ; 
 Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. 
 
 Casca. Indeed, they say, the senators to-morrow 
 Mciin to establish Cicsar 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 Cnssius : 
 Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong ; 
 
 I
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CESAE. 1.19 
 
 Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat : 
 
 Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass. 
 
 Nor airli^ss dungeon, nor strong links of iron, 
 
 Can be retentive to tlie 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 tjTanny that I do bear 
 
 I can shake off at pleasure. [Thunder si ill. 
 
 127. Casca. So can I : 
 
 So every bondman in his own hand bears 
 The power to cancel his captivity. 
 
 128. Cas. And why should Ctesar be a tjTant, 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 Uluminate 
 
 So vile a thing as Ciesar.' But, 0, grief! 
 
 "Where hast thou led me ? I, perhaps, speak this 
 
 Before a willing bondman : Then I know 
 
 My answer must be made. But I am armed. 
 
 And dangers are to me indifferent. 
 i29. Casca. You speak to Casca ; and to such a man, 
 
 That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand : 
 
 Be factious for redi-ess 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 honourable-dangerous conseiiuence ; 
 
 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 ClNNA. 
 Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. 
 Cas. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait;
 
 120 PHILOLOGICAL COMilENTAET. [\CT I. 
 
 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 I 
 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. — 
 
 Cassius, if you could 
 
 But win the noble Brutus to our party ! 
 
 138. Cas. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper^ 
 And look you lay it in the prsetor's chair, 
 
 "Where Brutus may but iind it ; and throw this 
 
 In at his window : set this up with wax 
 
 Upon old Brutus' statue : all this done, 
 
 Eopair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. 
 
 Is Decius Brutus, and Trehonius, there } 
 
 139. Cin. 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. 0, he sits high in all the people's hearts ; 
 And that, which would appear offence in us, 
 His coimtenance, like richest alchymy, 
 WiU 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 wiU awake him, and be sure of him. \_Exennf. 
 
 The heading of Scene III. m the old copies is only 
 " Thunder and Lightning. Enter Casca, and Cicero." 
 
 106. Brought you Ccesar liome ? — Bring, which is now 
 ordinarily restricted to the sense of carrying hither (so 
 tliat we cannot say Bring there), was formerly used in 
 tliat of carrying or conveying generally. To bring one on 
 his way, for instance, was to accompany him even if he had 
 been leaving the spealter. So " Brought you Ca>sar 
 home?" is Did you go home with Ca;sar? The word re-
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C^SAR. 121 
 
 tains its old sense in the expression To Iring forth (fruit, 
 or youna;), if not also in To hring down (a bird with a 
 gun). To fetch, again, seems always to have meant more 
 than to hring or to carry. " A horse cannot fetch, but 
 only carry," says Launce in The Two Gent, of Ver. Hi. 1. 
 
 107. All the sway of earth. — Sway, swing, swagger, are 
 probably all of the same stock with loeigh, and also witli 
 loave. The sivay of earth may be explained as the 
 balanced swing of earth. 
 
 107. LiJce a thing unfirm. — "We have now lost the ad- 
 jective unfirm, and we have appropriated infirm almost ex- 
 clusively to the human body and mind, and tlieir states and 
 movements. Tor infirm generally we can only say not firm. 
 
 107. Save rived. — We have nearly lost this form 
 which is the one Shakespeare uses in the only two pas- 
 sages 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 554. Milton, again, has our modern riven in 
 the only passage of his poetry in which any part of the 
 verb to rive occiirs : — (P. L. vi. 449), " His riven arms 
 to havoc hewn." 
 
 107. To be exalted tvith. — 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 iconderful. — That is, anything 
 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 you A\ith."
 
 122 PHILOLOGICAL COilMENTAEX. [aCT I. 
 
 109. Yolc JcnowMm well hi/si(/ht. — Is it to be supposed 
 that Casca really iiieaus to say that the common glave 
 whom he chaueed to meet Avas a particular individual 
 well kno-rni 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 read- 
 ing may be, " you 7c77etv him weU by sight," meaning that 
 any one would have known him at once to be but a 
 common slave (notwithstanding the preternatural appear- 
 ance, as if almost of something godlike, which his uplifted 
 band exhibited, burning but unhurt). 
 
 109. Besides (J liave not since, etc. — In the Folios "I 
 ha' not since." 
 
 109. Against the Capitol. — Oxev against, opposite 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 rejoining, after quoting other 
 instances of Shai-cespeare's use o^ glare ; — "I therefore 
 continue to repair the poet with his own animated 
 phraseology, rather than with the cold expression sug- 
 gested by the narrative of Stowe ; who, having been a 
 tailor, was undoubtedly 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 Mr Collier's MS. aunotator. The only 
 other instance known of the use of glazed, in apparently 
 the sense which it would have here, is one produced by 
 Boswell, from King James's translation of the Urania of 
 Du Cartas : " I gave a lusty glaise." Boswell adds that 
 "Du Bartas's original aftbrds us no assistance." 
 
 109. Drawn upon a heap. — Gathered together in a heap,
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAU. 123 
 
 or crowd. "Among this princely heap," says Gloster ia 
 King Eichard III., ii. 1. Heap was iu common use iu 
 this sense throughout the seventeenth century. 
 
 109. TJie bird of night. — The owl ; as the " bird of 
 dawning" (the cock) in Hamlet, i. 1. 
 
 109. Hooting and shrieking. — Howting 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 accent upon dag, or, 
 making even a dissyllable and accenting noon, to reckon 
 dag supernumerary. 
 
 109. These are their reasons, etc. — That such and such 
 are their reasons. It is the same form of expression that 
 we have afterwards in 147: — "Would run to these and 
 these extremities." But the present line has no claim to 
 either a distinctive t}^e or inverted commas. It is not as 
 if it were " These are our reasons." Is it possible that Mr 
 Collier can hold the new reading which he gives us in his 
 one volume edition, on the authority of his MS. annotator, 
 " These are their seasons," to be what Shakespeare really 
 wrote ? This is their season might have been conceivable ; 
 but who ever heard it remarked of any description of 
 phenomena that these are their seasons ? 
 
 109. Unto the climate. — The region of the earth, ac- 
 cording to the old geographical division of the globe into 
 so many Climates, which had no reference, or only an 
 accidental one, to differences of temperature. 
 
 110. A strange-disposed 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 qualify ; just as 
 we have in high-mind-ed, strong-mind-ed, able-bodi-ed, and 
 other similar forms. In other cases, again, it is the ad- 
 jective, and not the adverb, that enters into the compo- 
 sition of the verb ; thus we say straitge-holdng, mad-looJc-
 
 124 rniLOLOGiCAL commentary. [act I. 
 
 ing, heavy-looking, etc., because the verb is to look strange, 
 etc., not to look strangely (which has quite another mean- 
 ing) . Foreign-built may be regarded as an irregular form- 
 ation, occasioned probably by our having no such adverb 
 as Jbreig)ilg. Even in home-luilt, Tiome-haked, home-brewed, 
 home-grown, home-made, etc., the adverb home has a mean- 
 ing (at home) which it never has when standing alone. 
 
 110. Clean from the purpose. — A use oi clean (for com- 
 pletely) now come to be accounted inelegant, though 
 common in the translation of the Bible. " From the 
 purpose" is away from the purpose. 
 
 112. The metre of this speech stands, or rather stum- 
 bles, thus in the original edition : — 
 
 " Good-night then, Caska : 
 This disturbed Skie is not to walke in." 
 
 117. Your ear is good, etc. — The old copies have 
 " What night is this ?" But, notwithstanding the super- 
 numerary short syllable, the only possible reading seems 
 to be the one which I have given ; " Cassius, what a night 
 is this !" The a is plainly indispensable ; for surely Casca 
 cannot be supposed to ask what day of the month it is. 
 "Wliat he says can only be understood as an exclamation, 
 similar to that of Cinna, in 135 : " What a fearful night 
 is this!" As for the slight irregularity in the prosody, 
 it is of perpetual occurrence. Thus, only thirty lines 
 lower down (in 122) we have an instance of it produced 
 exactly as here : — " Name to thee a man most like this 
 dreadful night." And so again in 155: — "Are then in 
 council ; and the state of a man." 
 
 120. So full of faults. — The Avord fault, formerly, 
 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. Conf. 143. 
 
 120. The thunder-stone. — The thunder-stone is the 
 imaginary product of the thunder, which the ancients 
 called Brontia, mentioned by Pliny (iV. //. xxxvii. 10) as
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C-ISAE. 125 
 
 a species of gem, and as that whicli, falling -n-ith the 
 lightning, does the mischief. It is the fossil commonly 
 called the Belemnite, or Finger-stone, and now known to 
 be a shell. We stiU talk of the thunder-holt, which, how- 
 ever, is commonly confounded with the lightning. The 
 tJiiindo'-stonevras held to be quite distinct from the light- 
 ning, as may be seen from the song of Gruideriiis and 
 Arviragus in Cymheline, ii\ 2. 
 
 " Guid. Fear no more the lightning-flash. 
 Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone."* 
 
 It is also aUuded to in Othello, v. 2 : — 
 
 " ^Yi-e there no stones in heaven, 
 But Avhat serve for the thunder ? " 
 
 122. You are dull, etc. — The commencement of this 
 speech is a brill !nnt specimen of the blank verse of the 
 original editioa : — 
 
 " You are dull, Caska : 
 And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman, 
 You doe "want, or else you iise not. 
 You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare, 
 And cast your selfe in wonder, 
 To see," etc. 
 
 122. Cast yourself in iconder. — Does this mean throw 
 yourself z«^o a paroxysm of wonder ? Or may cast your- 
 self mean cast your self, or your mind, about, as in idle 
 conjecture ? The Commentators are mute. Shakespeare 
 sometimes has in where we shoidd now use into. In an 
 earlier stage of the language, the distinction now estab- 
 lished between in and info Avas constantly disregarded ; 
 and in some idiomatic expressions, the radical fibres of a 
 national speech, we still have in used to express what is 
 commonly and regularly expressed by info. 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 The Two Gentlemen of
 
 Vlo PnilOLOGICAL COiniEXTAUT. [aCT I. 
 
 Verona calls out of love. Tlie expression casi yourself in 
 wonder seems to be most closely paralleled by another in 
 Xinff Bichard III., i. 3 : — " Clarence, whom I, indeed, 
 have cast in darkness," as it stands in the First Folio, 
 although the preceding Quartos (of which there were five, 
 1597, 1598, 1G02, 1612 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 
 luies in The Merchant of Venice, v. 1 ; — 
 
 " How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
 Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music 
 Creep in our ears." 
 
 122. Why old men, etc. — Blackstone's novel pointing of 
 this passage is ingenious : — " Why old men fools " {i. e. 
 why we have all these fires, etc., why we have old men 
 fools). But the amenchnent is hardly required; or, at 
 any rate, it would not go far to give us a perfectly satis- 
 factory text. Nor does there seem to be any necessity 
 for assigning to calculate the singular sense of 'prophesy 
 (which the expression adduced by Johnson, to calculate a 
 nativity, is altogether insufficient to authorize). There 
 is probably some corruption ; but the present line may 
 be very well understood as meaning merely, why not only 
 old men, but even fools and children, speculate upon the 
 future ; or, still more simply, why all persons, old and 
 young, and the foolish as well as the wise, take part in 
 sucli speculating and prognosticating. Shakespeare may 
 have been so far from thinking, with Blackstoue, 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 generally, and with children, as 
 specially disqualilied for looking with any very deep in- 
 sight into the future. And so doubtless they are apt to 
 be, when very old. 
 
 122. Unto some monstrous st.ttc. — That is, I suppose,
 
 SG. 3.] jvLirs c.i;sAH. 127 
 
 some monstrous or unnatural state of things (not some 
 overgrown commonwealth) . 
 
 122. And roars, etc. — That is, roars in the Capitol as 
 doth the lion. Many readers, I believe, go away with 
 tlie notion that Caesar is here compared by Cassius to 
 some live lion that was kept in the Capitol. Or 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. IVIr Collier, however, prints roars, although it is 
 not stated that that word is restored by his MS. anno- 
 tator. 
 
 122. iVo mightier than thyself, or me. — Of course, in 
 strict grammar it should be than I. But the personal 
 pronoims must be held to be, in some measure, emanci- 
 pated from the dominion or t}Tanny of sjTitax. AVho 
 would rectify even Shelley's bold 
 
 "lest there be 
 No solace left for tJio^i and me ? " 
 
 The grammatical 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 I in the present passage, we have / 
 for me in Antonio's " All debts are cleared between you 
 and I " (^Merchant of Venice, Hi. 2). Other examples of 
 the same irregularity are the following : — 
 
 ""WTiich none but Heaven, and you and I, shall hear." 
 
 King John, i. 1. 
 " "WTiich none may hear but she and thou." 
 
 Coleridge, Day Dream. 
 
 In both these passages hut can only be the preposition. 
 So where Corin, in his conversation Avith Touchstone, in 
 As You Like It, Hi. 2, says, " You told me you salute 
 not at the court but vou kiss vour hands," he does not
 
 12S PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 mean that there is no saluting at court, only kissing of 
 hands, but that people never salute without kissing hands. 
 There ought to be no comma after court. The form of 
 phrase is the same that we have afterwards in Hi. 5 : — 
 
 " The common executioner . . . 
 Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck 
 But first begs pardon ; " — 
 
 that is, without first asking pardon. 
 
 124. Let it he who it is. — Not who it may he ; Cassius, 
 in his present mood, is above that subterfuge. 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 Umhs. — The common signification of 
 the word thews in our old writers is manners, or qualities 
 of mind and disposition. This is the sense in which it is 
 always used both by Chaucer and by Spenser. It is also 
 the only sense of the Original English theaw. And even 
 at a comparatively late date any other sense seems to 
 have been felt to be strange. The editors of the Third 
 and Fourth Folios (1661 and 16S5) substitute sinews in 
 the present passage. Pope, on the other hand, retaining, 
 or restoring, thews, explains it as meaning here inanners or 
 capacities. But, even if the true meaning of the word 
 were disputable in this passage considered by itself, the 
 other instances of its use by Shakespeare would clearly 
 show what sense he attached to it. They are only two. 
 " Care I," says Falstaff", in the Second Part of King 
 Henry IV., Hi. 2, "for the limb, the thews, the stature, 
 bulk, and big assemblauce of a man ? Give me the spirit. 
 Master Shallow." And exactly in the same way it is 
 used by Laertes in Hamlet, i. 3 : — 
 
 " For nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
 In fhews and bulk ; but, as tliis temple waxes, 
 The inward service of the mind and soul 
 Grows wide withal."
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C.ISAE. 129 
 
 In all the three passages by theivs Shakespeare means 
 unquestionably brawn, nerves, muscular vigour. And to 
 this sense, and this only, the word has now settled down ; 
 the other sense, which was formerly so familiar in our 
 literature, is quite gone out and forgotten. Shakespeare's 
 use of it had probably been always common in the popular 
 language. There appear in fact to have been two Ori- 
 ginal English words, tlieaw and iheoio, the latter the ori- 
 ginal of our modern thiffJi and also of Shakespeare's tJiew. 
 It is preserved, too, in the Scottish thoidess, meaning 
 feeble or sinewless. Only one or two instances, however, 
 have been discovered of the word being used by any other 
 English writer before Shakespeare in his sense of it. One 
 is given by Nares from George Turbervile, who, in his 
 translation of Ovid's Epistles, first printed in 1567, has 
 " the thews of Helen's passing [that is, surpassing] form." 
 In the earlier version of Layamori's Brut, also, which 
 belongs to the end of the twelfth century, we have in one 
 place (ve7'se 6361), " Monnene strengest of maine and of 
 theaice of alle thissere theode " (of men strongest of main, 
 or strength, and of sinew, of all this land). But Sir 
 Frederic Madden remarks (III. 471) : — " This is the only 
 instance in the poem of the word being applied to bodily 
 qualifies, nor has any other passage of an earlier date 
 than the sixteenth century been found in wliich it is so 
 used." It may be conjectured that it had only been a 
 provincial word in this sense, till Shakespeare adopted it. 
 
 124. But, looe the ichile ! — 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 an- 
 cestors ? 
 
 124. And ive are governed ivith. — "We now commonly 
 employ hy to denote agency, and with where there is only 
 instrumentality ; but that distinction was not formerly so
 
 130 PHILOLOGICAL COMllENTAKT. [aCT I. 
 
 fully establisbed, and ivith was used more freqiaently than 
 it is with us. Sliakespeare even has {Rich. II., Hi. 3) 
 "I live tvith bread like you, feel want, taste grief." 
 
 126. / knoio where I will toear this danger, 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. Cassius does not intend to be under- 
 stood as intimating that he is prepared to plunge his 
 dagger into his heart at that time, but in that case. 
 
 12G. Can he retentive to. — Can retain or confine the 
 spirit. 
 
 126. If I Jcnow this, etc. — The logical connexion of " If 
 I know this " is with " That part of tyranny," etc. ; but 
 there is also a rhetorical connexion with " Know all the 
 Avorld besides." As if he had said, " Knowing this, I can 
 shake off, etc. ; and, I knowing this, let all others too 
 know and be aware that I can," etc. 
 
 127. The power to cancel, etc. — Here, it will be observed, 
 we \\?LYQ power reduced to a monosyllable, although it had 
 been employed as a dissyllable only five lines before, 
 " ]S"ever lacks power," etc. 
 
 12S. He were no lion, etc. — His imagination is still 
 filled vfiih. the image by 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 Original English 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 wlien it is aided, as here, by the existence of some 
 other word or form to which the d properly belongs. 
 Thus, soun (from sonner and sono) has probably been the 
 more easily converted into .sound from having become 
 confounded in the popuhxr ear and understanding with
 
 sc. 3.] JULIUS c.t;sar. 131 
 
 the adjective sound and the verb to sound, meaning to 
 search ; and such obsolete or dialectic forms as drownd 
 and sivoitnd (for drown and swoon) may be supposed to 
 have been the more readily produced through the mis- 
 leading influence of the parts of the verb which actually 
 and properly end in d or ed. As we have confounded the 
 old kinde and Jiine, so we have also the Original English 
 herd, or heard, meaning a flock or crowd (the modern 
 German heerde), with hi/rd, meaning a keeper or tender 
 (the modern Grerman hirt) ; our one form for both being 
 now herd. 
 
 128. Ml/ miswer must he made. — I must answer for what 
 I have said. 
 
 129. To such a man, That is, etc. — Vid. 57. — To fleer 
 (or flear, as is the old spelling) is to mock, or laugh at. 
 The word appear^ to have come to xis from the Norse or 
 Scandinavian branch of the Grothic, — one of the roots 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 us Avith the 
 Swedish, is unknown to the classical English of the times 
 before the Norman Conquest, although we have it in full 
 activity, probably adopted from the popular speech of the 
 
 i northern counties, in the written language of the twelfth 
 century) . 
 
 129. Hold, my hand. — That is. Have, receive, take hold 
 (of it) ; there is my hand. The comma is distinctly 
 marked in the early editions. 
 
 129. Be factious for redress of all these grirfi. — Here 
 factious seems to mean nothing more than active or urgent, 
 although everywhere else, I believe, in Shakespeare the 
 word is used in the same disreputable sense which it has 
 at present. Griefs (the form still used in the French 
 language, and retained in our own with another meaning) 
 K 2
 
 132 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT I. 
 
 is his by far more common vrovi for what we now call 
 grievances, although he has that form too occasionally 
 (which Milton nowhere employs). V'ul. 436. 
 
 130. To undergo, ivith me, an enterprise. — We should 
 now rather say to undertake where there is anything to 
 be done. 
 
 130. Of lionourdble-dangerous. — These two words were 
 probably intended to make a compound adjective, although 
 the hyphen with which they are connected by most of the 
 modei'u editors is not in the oldest printed text. The 
 language does not now, at least in serious composition, 
 indulge in compounds of this descriptiou. Shakespeare, 
 however, has apparently several such. Thus: — 
 
 "More active-valiant, or more valiant-young." 
 
 1 Hen. IV., V. 1. 
 
 "But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold." 
 
 Love's Lab, Lost, ii, 1. 
 
 " More fertile-fresh tlian all the field to see." 
 
 Mer. W. of Wind., v. 5. 
 
 " So full of shapes is fancy. 
 That it alone is high-fantastical." — 
 
 Twelfth Night, i. 1. 
 
 130. Bg this tlieg stag 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 jDreposition in these phrases being felt to 
 be suggestive of the notion of time in a way that Ig is not. 
 
 130. There is no . . . loalking. — In another connexion 
 this might mean, that there was no possibility of walking ; 
 but here the meaning apparently is tliat there was no 
 walking going on. 
 
 130. The complexion of the element. — That is, of the 
 heaven, of tlie sky. North, in his Plutarch, speaks of 
 "the fires in the clement." The word in this sense was 
 much in favour with the fiuc writers or talkers of Shake-
 
 SC. 3.] JTLirS CiESAR. 133 
 
 speare's day. lie lias a hit at the affectation iu his Twelfth 
 AHglit, Hi. 1, where the CloAvn, conversing with Viola, 
 says, " Who you are, and what you would, are out of my 
 welkin : I might say, element : but the word is overworn." 
 Of course, welkin is, and is intended to be, far more 
 absurd. Yet we have eleme7it for the sky or the air in 
 other passages besides the present. Thus : — 
 
 " The element itself, .... 
 Shall not behold her face at ample view." 
 
 Twelfih Night, i. 1. 
 
 " 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 expres- 
 sion stiU. echoing Shakespeare's dissatisfaction : " The ter- 
 ritorial element, to use that favourite 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. In favour'' s like the tcork. — 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 Johnson ; and it has the 
 support, it seems, of Mr Collier's MS. annotator. Favour, 
 as we have seen (vid. 54), means aspect, appearance, 
 features. Another emendation that has been proposed 
 (by Steevens) is " Is favoured." But to say that the 
 complexion of a thing is either featured 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 3Iac- 
 heth, 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 exaetlv the sort of word that, if
 
 134 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT I. 
 
 not very distinctly wi'itten, would be apt to puzzle and 
 be mistaken by a compositor. It may perbaps coimt, 
 too, for something, though not very much, against both 
 " favour's like " and " favoured like " that a very decided 
 comma separates the two words in the original edition. 
 
 134. One incorporate To our attempts.— One of our body, 
 one united with us in our enterprise. The expression 
 has probably no more emphatic import. 
 
 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 be. 
 
 136. Am I not staid for ? — This is tlie original reading, 
 which has been restored by Mr Knight. The common 
 modern reading is, " Am I not staid for, Cinna ? " the last 
 Avord being inserted (and that wdthout notice, whicli is 
 impardonable) only to satisfy the supposed demands of 
 the prosody. , 
 
 137. This speech stands thus in the First Folio : — 
 
 "Yes, you ai'e. Cassius, 
 If you could but wiuue the Noble Brutus 
 To our party — ." 
 
 The common metrical arrangement is : — 
 
 "Yes, 
 You are. 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 believe this 
 to be right. Nor am I better satisfied Avith Mr Knight's 
 distribution of the lines, although it is adopted by Mr 
 Collier: — 
 
 '' Yes, jaw arc. 
 0, Cassius, if you could but win the noble Brutus, 
 To our party ; " 
 
 which gives us an extended line equally unmusical and 
 undigiiified whether read rapidly or slowly, followed (to 
 make matters Avorsc which were bad enough already) by
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CESAR. 135 
 
 v.-liat could scarcely make the commenceinent 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 completion 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 rh}i;hmic flow must be as I have given 
 it:— 
 
 " Cassius, if you coukl 
 But win the noble Brutus to our party." 
 
 138. Where Brutus may hut find it. — If hut be the true 
 word (and be not a misprint for hest), the meaning must 
 be, Be sure you lay it in the prfctor's chair, only taking 
 care to place it so that Brutus may be sure to find it. 
 
 138. Z7};o/i old Brutus' statue. — Lucius Brutus, who 
 expelled the Tarquins, the reputed ancestor of Marcus 
 Lucius Brutus ; also alluded to in 5G, " There was a 
 Brutus once," etc. 
 
 139. / will hie. — To hie (meaning to hasten) is used 
 I'eflectively, as well as intransitively, but not other\vise as 
 an active verb. Its root appears to be the Original Eng- 
 lish hyye, meaning mind, study, earnest application; 
 whence the various verbal forms hyyyan, hygiaii, hiegan, 
 hiyyan, higian, hogian, hugian, and perhaps others. Hug 
 is probably another modern derivative from the same root. 
 
 139. And so hestow these papers. — This use of hestow 
 (for to place, or dispose of) is now gone out; though 
 something of it still remains in stoiv. 
 
 110. Pompey's theatre. — The same famous structure 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. 
 
 142. You have right tcell conceited. — To conceit is an-
 
 136 rniLOLOGicAL comme^tauy. [act it. 
 
 other form of our still familiar to conceive. And the noun 
 co7iceit, which survives with a limited meaning (the con- 
 ception of a man by himself, which is so apt to be one of 
 over-estimation), is also frequent in Shakespeare with the 
 sense, nearly, of what we now call conception, in general. 
 So in 3i9. Sometimes it is used in a sense which might 
 almost be said to be the opposite of what it now means ; 
 as when Juliet (ia Borneo and Juliet, ii. 5) employs it as 
 the term to denote her all-absorbing affection for Eomeo : — 
 
 " Conceit, more rich in matter tlian 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 Tlie Merchant of Venice, i. 1, 
 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 Eosaline, in Love's Lalour''s Lost, ii. 1, 
 speaking of Biron, describes his " fair tongue " as " con- 
 ceit's expositor," all tliat 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 margin the Hebrew literally signifies. In the 
 New Testament, where we have " in their own conceits," 
 the Greek is simply Trap' lavnnc (in or with themselves). 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I.— The same. BnUTUs's Orchard. 
 Enter ]3nvTUS. 
 143. Bru. ^Y]\at, Lucius! ho! 
 
 I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CESAR. 137 
 
 Give guess how near to day. — Lucius, I say ! — ■ 
 I -would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. — 
 "\i\Tien, Lucius .' when ? Awake, I say : "What, Lucius ! 
 
 Enter Luciis. 
 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 wiU, my lord. [Eiit. 
 
 147. Bru. It must be by his death : and, for my part, 
 I know no personal cause to spm-n at him. 
 
 But for the general. He would be crowned : — 
 
 How that might change his nature, there's the question. 
 
 It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ; 
 
 And that craves wary walking. Crown him ? — That ; — 
 
 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 
 
 Eemors-e from power ; and, to speak truth of Cajsar, 
 
 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, 
 
 Look^ in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
 
 By which he did ascend. So Coesar 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 c^g. 
 
 Which, hatched, would, as his kind, grow mischievous ; 
 
 And kill him in the shell. 
 
 Re-enter LuciUS. 
 
 148. Luc. The taper kirneth in your closet. Sir. 
 Searching the window for a flint, I foimd 
 This pa]ier, thus sealed up ; and, I am sure. 
 
 It did not lie there when I went to bed. [ Gives him 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.
 
 13S PHILOLOGICAL COiIME:N'TiLBY. [aCT II. 
 
 Luc. I will, Sir. lExit. 
 
 153. B7-U. 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; awake, and see tlirjself. 
 
 Shall Rome, ^c. Speak, strike, redress.'" 
 
 Brutus, thou sleep' st ; av:ake. 
 
 Such instigations have been often di'opped 
 
 "Where I have took them up. 
 
 Shall Rome, ^c. Thus must I piece it out: — 
 
 Shall Rome stand imder one man's awe ? "What ! Eome ? 
 
 My ancestors did from the streets of Eome 
 
 The Tarquin drive, when he was called a king. 
 
 Speak, strike, redress! 
 
 Am I entreated 
 
 To speak, and strike ? Eome ! I make thee promise, 
 
 If the redress will follow, thou receivest 
 
 Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus. 
 Re-enter Lucitrs. 
 15-1. Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. [K^iock within. 
 
 155. Bru. 'Tis good, Go to the gate ; somebody knocks. 
 
 {Exit Lucivs. 
 Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, 
 I have not slept. 
 
 Between the acting of a di-eadful 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 man, 
 Like to a little kingdom, sufi"ers then 
 The nature of an insurrection. 
 
 Re-enter Lucius. 
 
 156. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, 
 Who doth desire to sec you. 
 
 Bru. Is he alone ? 
 158. Luc. No, Sir, there are moo with him. 
 
 Bru. Do you know them ? 
 IGO. Luc. No, Sir; their hats are pluckt about their ears, 
 And half their faces buried in their cloaks, 
 That by no means I may discover them 
 By any mark of favour. 
 161. Bru. Let 'cm eater. [Exit Lucius
 
 SC. 1.] JUHUS CERAK. 139 
 
 They are ttie faction. Conspiracy ! 
 
 Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, 
 
 "\Mien evUs are most free ! 0, then, by day. 
 
 Where wilt thou find a cavern 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, Decics, Cinna, Metellus Cimiiek, 
 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 honour's you ; and every one doth wish 
 You had but that opinion of yourself 
 "\Miich every noble Roman bears of you. 
 This is Treboiiius. 
 
 Bru. He is welcome hither. 
 
 Cas. This, Decius Brutus. 
 
 Bru. He is welcome too. 
 168. Cas. This, Casca ; this, China ; and this, Metcllus Cimber. 
 
 Bru. They are all welcome. 
 What watchful cares do interpose themselves 
 Betwixt your eyes and night ? 
 
 Cas. Shall I entreat a word } [ They whisper. 
 
 Dec. Here lies the east : Doth not the day break here ? 
 
 Casca. No. 
 173. Cin. 0, 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. 
 1 '(0. 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.
 
 140 PniLOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT II. 
 
 The suiferance 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 tjTanny range on, 
 Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, 
 As I am sure they do, bear fii-e 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 tlie word, 
 And wiU 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 wi'ongs ; unto bad causes swear 
 Such creatures as men doubt : but do not stain 
 The even virtue of our enterprise. 
 Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits. 
 To think that or our cause or our performance . 
 
 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. 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 wildncss, shall no whit appear. 
 But all be buried in his gravity. 
 
 182. Bni. 0, name him not; let us not break with him; 
 For he will never follow anything 
 
 Tliat other men begin. 
 Cas. Then leave him out. 
 Casca. Indeed, he is not fit. 
 
 Dec. Shall no man else be touched but only Cajsar ? 
 18G. Cas. Decius, well urged: — I think it is not meet,
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 141 
 
 Mark Antony, so v?ell beloved of Coesar, 
 Should outlive Ca)sar : "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 Cwsar. 
 Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. 
 We ail stand up against the spii'it of Ca;sar ; 
 And in the spii-it of men there is no blood : 
 0, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, 
 And not dismember Cassar ! 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, 
 Stii" up their servants to an act of rage. 
 And after seem to chide 'em. This shall mark 
 Our purpose necessary, and not envious : 
 Which 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 CiBsar's arm 
 When Caesar's head is off. 
 
 188. Cas. Yet I do fear him . 
 
 For in the ingrafted love he bears to Ca;sar, 
 
 189. Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him : 
 If he love Caesar, 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. 
 192. Cas. The clock hath stricken three. 
 
 Treh. 'Tis time to part. 
 194. Cas. But it is doubtful yet 
 
 Whether Caesar will come forth to-day or no : 
 For he is superstitious grown of late ;
 
 142 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT II. 
 
 Quite from the main opinion he held once 
 Of fantasy, of (beams, 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. Dec. Never fear that : If he be so resolved, 
 I can o'ersway him : for he loves to hear 
 That unicorns may be betrayed with trees. 
 And bears with glasses, elephants witli 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 .' 
 
 Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. 
 
 199. Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cscsar hard, 
 "Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey ; 
 I wonder none of you have thought of him. 
 
 200. Bru. Now, good I\Ietellus, 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 : "Wc'U leave you, Brutus: — 
 And, friends, disperse yourselves : but all remember 
 What yon have said, and show yourselves true Eomans. 
 
 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 ! Lucius ! — Fast asleep ? It is no matter ; 
 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 PonxiA. 
 For. Brutus, my lord ! {■ 
 
 Bru. Portia, what mean you ? Wlicrcforc rise you now .* 
 It is not for your health, thus to commit
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS d:sATi. 143 
 
 Tour weak condition to the raw-cold morning. 
 205. For. Nor for yours neither. You've unf^ently, Brutus, 
 
 Stole from my bed : And yesterni^^lit, 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 iipon 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. 
 For. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, 
 
 He would embrace the means to come by it. 
 Bru. Why, so I do. — Good Portia, go to bed. 
 209. For. 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 impurged air 
 
 To add unto his sickness .•' jSTo, 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.
 
 14-1 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT II. 
 
 Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. 
 211. For. 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 honourable wife ; 
 As dear to me as are the ruddy di'ops 
 That visit my sad heart. 
 
 213. For. If this were true, then should I knoAV 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 tiiat with patience. 
 
 And not my husband's secrets .' 
 
 214. Bru. ye gods. 
 
 Render me worthy of this noble wife ! \_Knocking within- 
 
 Hark, hark ! one knocks : Portia, go in a while ; 
 
 And by and by thy bosom shall partake 
 
 The secrets of my heart. 
 
 All my engagements I will construe to thee, 
 
 All the charactery of my sad brows : — 
 
 Leave me with haste. [Exit Portia. 
 
 Etiter Lucius a7id Ligarius. 
 
 Lucius, who^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 .' 
 217- Liff. Vouchsafe good-morrow from a feeble tongue. 
 218. Bni. 0, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, 
 To wear a kerchief? Would you were not sick ! 
 Lif/. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
 
 SC. l.J JULIUS C^SAE. 145 
 
 Any exploit worthy the name of honour. 
 
 Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, 
 Had you a healthful car to hear of it. 
 221. Liff. By all the gods that Romans how before 
 I here discard ray sickness. Soul of Rome ! 
 Brave son, derived fi'om honoiu'able loins ! 
 Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up 
 My mortified spirit. Now hid 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. 
 
 Liff. But are not some whole, that we must make sick ? 
 
 224. Bru. That must we also. T^Tiat it is, my Caius, 
 I shall uul'old to thee, as we are going 
 
 To whom it must be done. 
 
 225. Lig. Set on your foot ; 
 
 And, with a heart new-tired, I follow you. 
 To do I know not what : but it sufliceth, 
 That Brutus leads me on. 
 Bru. Follow me then. \_Exeunt. 
 
 Scene I. — The heading here in the Tolios (ia 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 distiactively 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 rectification (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 understood in the 
 early pai't 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, al- 
 though the scene is headed " Leonato's Garden,'' Benedick, 
 sending the Boy for a book from hia chamber-vrindow,
 
 116 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 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 gi'oimd gii'ded in or enclosed ; and an Orchard 
 (properly Ortyard) is, literally, such an enclosure for 
 vjorts, or herbs. At one time Orchard used to be written 
 Ilorfyard, under the mistaken notion that it was derived 
 from hortus (which may, however, be of the same stock) , 
 
 143. Hoio near to day. — How near it may be to the 
 day. 
 
 143. I would it loere my fault. — Compare the use of 
 fault here with its sense in 120. 
 
 143. When, Lucius ? lohen ? — This exclamation had not 
 formerly the high tragic or heroic sound which it would 
 now have. It was merely a customaiy way of calling 
 impatiently to one who had not obeyed a previous sum- 
 mons. So in Sichard the Seco7td {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 yeneral was foi'merly a 
 common expression for what we now call the community 
 or the people. Thus Angelo in Measxire for Measure, 
 a. 4 : — 
 
 "The general, subject to a well-wished king, 
 Quit their own part, and in obsequious fonchiess 
 Crowd to his presence." 
 
 147. And that craves. — It might be questioned whether 
 that here be the demonstrative (as it is commonly con- 
 sidered) or the relative (to the antecedent " the bright 
 day"). 
 
 147. Crown him? That. — Here the emphatic that ap- 
 pears to be used exactly as so (etymologically of the same 
 import) often is. Vid. 57. Either, or any equivalent 
 term, thus used, might obviously serve very well for the 
 sign of afllrmation ; in tlie present passage we might sub- 
 stitute yes for that with the same crlect. It used to be 
 held that the i'rcnch oiii, anciently oyl, was merely the
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SATl. 147 
 
 ill of the classic ill-e, ill-a, ilJ-ucl, and that the old Pro- 
 vencal oc was hoc. It appears however, that oui or oyl is 
 really void (pv je void), the old present of vouloir. The 
 common word for yes in Italian, again, si (not unknown 
 in the same sense to the French tongue), may be another 
 form of so. The three languages used to be distinguished 
 as the Langue d'Otjl (or Lingua Oytana), the Langue d'Oc 
 (or Lingua Ocriluna), and the Lingua di Si. — The point- 
 ing in the First Folio here is " Crowne him that, And 
 then," etc. 
 
 147. Do danger. — Danger, which we have borrowed 
 from the French, is a corruption of the middle age Latin 
 dondgerium, formed from damno. It is, in fact, radically 
 the same with damage. A detail of the variations of 
 meaning which the word has undergone in both languages 
 would make a long history. In French also it anciently 
 bore the same sense (that of mischief) which it has here. 
 Sometimes, again, in both languages, it signified power to 
 do mischief or to injure ; as when Portia, in The Merchant 
 of Venice (iv. 1), speaking to Antonio of Shylock, says, 
 " You stand within his danger, do you not ? " 
 
 147. The abuse of greatness is, etc. — The meaning ap- 
 parently is, " The abuse to Afhich greatness is most subject 
 is when it deadens in its possessor the natiu'al 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 knoA\Ti that in him selfish affection, or mere 
 passion, has carried it over reason." Bemorse is generally 
 used by Shakespeare in a wider sense than that to which 
 it is now restricted. 
 
 147. But His a common proof — A thing commonly 
 proved or experienced (what commonly, as we should say, 
 proves to be the case) . 
 
 A frequent word Avith Shakespeare for to prove is to 
 approve. Thus, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, v. 4, 
 we have — 
 
 L 2
 
 lis PHILOLOGICAL COMMEKTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 "0, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved, 
 When women cannot love where they're beloved." 
 
 So, iu Much Ado About Noilihuj, we have, in iv. 1, "an 
 approved "wanton," and aftei'wards " Is lie not approved 
 in the lieight a villain ? " AVhen Don Pedro in the same 
 Play, ii. 1, describes Benedick as "of approved valour," 
 the words cannot be understood as conveying any notion 
 of what we now call approval, or approbation ; the mean- 
 ing is merely, that he had 'proved his valour by his con- 
 duct. This is, no doubt, also, the meaning of the word in 
 the last verse of Sir Thomas Wyat's passionately earnest 
 lines entitled " To his Mistress " (supposed to be Anne 
 Boleyn) : — 
 
 " Forget not, then, thine own approved, 
 The which so long hath thee so loved, 
 Whose steadfast faith yet never moved ; 
 Forget not this ! " 
 
 So in Hamlet., i. 1, Marcellus says, speaking of Horatio 
 and the Ghost, — 
 
 " 1 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, — 
 
 " Tliis day my sister shoidd the cloister enter, 
 And there receive her approbation " — 
 
 for what we now cxOlX 2:)rohation. This sense of the word 
 (which we still retain in the law-term an approver, in 
 Latin prohator) occurs repeatedly both in the Bible and 
 in Milton, and in fact is the most common sense which it 
 has in our earlier English. It is strange that it should 
 not be noticed at all by Nares, and that the only refeixmce 
 for it in Boucher is in tlie following insertion by Stephen- 
 son : — " To bring proof of. — ' Matabrun in likewise en-
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS ca:sAK. 149 
 
 (levored her ou the other sycle to approve the said iniurv 
 . . . bi hir commised and purpeused.' — Heylas, p. 27." 
 
 147. Whereto the climber upward, etc. — There is no 
 hyphen in the original text connecting climber and ttpward, 
 as there is in some modern editions ; but any doubt as 
 to whether the adverb should be taken along with climher 
 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 upwards To what they were 
 before." 
 
 147. The upmost round. — The step of a ladder has como 
 to be called a round, 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 typographical error) utmost. 
 
 147. The base degrees. — The lower steps of the ladder 
 ■ — les bas degres (from the Latin 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. By which he did ascend. — It is not the sjTitax of 
 our modern English to use the auxiliary verb in such a 
 case as this. Vid. 16. 
 
 147. Then, lest he may, prevent. — We should not now 
 say to prevent lest. But the word prevent continued to 
 convey its original import of to come before more distinctly 
 in Shakespeare's day than it does now. Vid. 161 and 709. 
 
 147. TFill bear no colour for the thing he is. — Will take 
 no shew, no plausibility, no appearance of being a just 
 quarrel, if professed to be founded upon Avhat Cfesar at 
 present actually is. The use of colour, and colourable, in 
 this sense is still familiar. 
 
 147. What he is, augmented. — What he now is, if aug- 
 mented or heightened (as it is the nature of things that 
 it shoidd be). 
 
 147. Would run to these, etc. — To such and such ex-
 
 150 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAKT. [aCT II. 
 
 tremities (whicli -we must suppose to be stated aud 
 explained). Vid. 109. 
 
 147. Think Mm as. — The verb to tliinh has now lost 
 this sense, though we might still say " Thinlc him a ser- 
 pent's ^%%^^ " Think him good, or wicked," and also " To 
 think a good or evil thought." 
 
 147. As ]>is 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 Jiim the Lette.',' 
 is omitted by most of the modern editors. 
 
 149. The ides of March. — The reading of all the ancient 
 copies is " thejirst of March ; " it was Theobald who first 
 made the correction, which has been adopted by all suc- 
 ceeding 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 " — sovmds 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 speaker to 
 have lost fourteen days in his account. He is here plainly 
 ruminating on what the Soothsayer told Caesar [?'. 2] in 
 his presence [Bewa7'e the ides of Ilarch]." Mr Collier 
 also prints " the ides ; " but the cori'ection docs not ap- 
 pear to be made by his MS. aunotator. IMr Knight, I 
 apprehend, must be mistal^en in saying that Shakespeare 
 found " the first of March " in Noi'th's Flutarch : the 
 present incident is not, I believe, anywhere related by 
 Plutarcli. 
 
 153. Brutus, thou sleep' st ; awake. — I have endeavour-
 
 SC. 1.] JULirS CJESAR. l-"l 
 
 ed to indicate bj 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. The letter unqiiestionably concluded with the 
 emphatic adjuration, " Speak, strike, redress ! " It never, 
 after this, would have proceeded to go over the ground 
 again in the same words that had been already \ised. 
 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 tooJc.—Vid. 46. 
 
 153. Speak, strike, redress ! — Ami 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 beeij 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 syllables 
 after redress. The best way is to regard the supposed 
 line as being ia 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, 
 " ShaU Eome, etc." ? 
 
 153. I malce thee promise. — I make promise to thee. In 
 another connexion, the words might mean I make thee 
 to promise. The Second Folio has " the promise." The 
 heading that foUows this speech, and also 155, ia the First 
 Folio is Enter Lucius. 
 
 153. Thou, recehest. — Mr Collier prints receiv'st, — it is 
 not apparent whj'. 
 
 154. March is ivasted fourteen days. — In all the old edi- 
 tions it \s fifteen. The correction was made by Theobald. 
 Vid. 149. Mr Collier has also fourteen ; but he does not 
 liere appear to have the authority of his MS. annotator.
 
 152 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 — Tlie beading wbicli precedes is ^^ Enter Lucius''' in the 
 original text. 
 
 155. The genius and tJie mortal instruments. — The com- 
 mentators have -nritten and disputed ]a\-ishly upon these 
 celebrated words. Apparently, by the genius we are to 
 understand the contriving and immortal mind, and most 
 probably the mortal instruments are the earthh^ 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 
 dispatch their mighty victim, not as blood-thirsty butch- 
 ers, 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 tage, 
 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 pro- 
 posed to understand by the mortal instruments the bodily 
 powers or organs ; but it is not obvious 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 desig- 
 nated the instruments and agents, in Coriolanus, i. 1, where, 
 first, Menenius Agrippa says, in his apologue of the rebel- 
 lion of the other members of the body against the belly, — 
 
 " The other instniracnts 
 Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, 
 And, mutually participate, did minister 
 Unto the appetite and allcction common 
 Of the whole body " — 
 
 and, shortly after, the Second Citizen asks, — 
 
 "The former agents, if tliey did complain, 
 "What could the belly answer.' " 
 
 So again, in Macbeth, i. 7 : —
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAE. 153 
 
 " I am settled, and bent up 
 Each corporal agent to this terrible feat." 
 
 We have, apparently, the word Genius used for the 
 spirit or mind in what the Duke says, in The Comedy of 
 Errors, v. 1, of the two Antipholuses and the two 
 Dromios : — 
 
 " One of these men is genius to the other ; 
 And so of these : which is the natural man, 
 And which the spirit ? " 
 
 155. And tJie state of a man. — This is the original read- 
 ing, in which the prosodical irregularity is nothing more 
 than what frequently occurs. The common reading omits 
 the article. There is certainly nothing gained in vivid- 
 ness of expression by so turning the concrete into the 
 abstract. We have elsewhere, indeed, in Macbeth, i. 3, 
 " My single state of man ; " and Palstaff", 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. — The Exit Lucius 
 attached to the first line of this speech is modern. 
 
 156. Your brother Cassius. — Cassius had married Junia, 
 the sister of Brutus. 
 
 158. No, Sir, there are moc 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 seven- 
 teenth century, as it still is in Scotland in the dialectic 
 meh' (pronounced exactly as the English may) . No con- 
 fusion or ambiguity is produced in this ease by the reten- 
 tion of the old word, of continual occurrence both in 
 Chaucer and Spenser, such as makes it advisable to con- 
 vert the then, which the original text of the Plays gives 
 us after the comparative, into oiu" modern than. In some 
 cases, besides, the moe is absolutely requii-ed by the verse : 
 as in Balthazar's Song in Much Ado About Nothing 
 {ii. 3) :-
 
 151 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEKTART. [aCT IT. 
 
 " Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, 
 Or dumps so dull and heavy ; 
 The frauds of men were ever so, 
 Since summer fii'st was leavy." 
 
 160. Plucht about their ears. — Pulled down about 
 their ears. 
 
 160. By any mark of favour. — That is, of feature or 
 countenance. Vid. 54. 
 
 161. TVlien evils are most free! — When evil things have 
 most freedom. 
 
 161. To mash thy monstrous visage ? — The only prosodi- 
 cal 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. Hide it in smiles. — This is the old reading, which 
 Mr'Knight has restored. He states that all the modern 
 editions have in it. 
 
 161. For, if thou path, thy native sev^hJance on. — 
 Coleridge has declared himself convinced that we should 
 here read "if thou put thy native semblance on; " and 
 Mr Knighb is inclined to agree with him, seeing that 
 putte might be easily mistaken ioY pathe. li 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 path in the old 
 copies. 
 
 161. To hide thee from prevention. — To prevent (prse- 
 venire) 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 ; — " JSnter the Conspira- 
 tor's, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, 3Ictelhis, and Tre- 
 honius."
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAR. 15.5 
 
 162. JVe are too hold upon your rest. — We intrude too 
 boldly or imcercmouiously 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 might perhaps be pos- 
 sible, by certain -sdolent processes, to reduce it to the rude 
 semblance of a line of verse, or to break it up, as has also 
 been attempted, into something like a pair of hemistichs ; 
 but it is far better to regard it as never having been in- 
 tended for verse at all, like many other brief utterances 
 of the same level kind interspersed in this and all the 
 other Plays. 
 
 173. And yon grey lines. — This is the reading of all the 
 Folios. "Why does Mr Collier print yond' ? 
 
 174. Which is a great tmy, etc. — The commentators, 
 who flood us -with their explanations of many easier pas- 
 sages, 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. But is there not 
 some allusion, which the look and tone of the speaker 
 might express more clearly than his words, to the great 
 act about to be performed in the Capitol, and the change, 
 as of a new day, that was expected to follow it ? Other- 
 wise, it is difficult to understand the elaborate emphasis 
 of the whole speech, — more especially the closing words — 
 
 "and the high east 
 Stands, as the Capitol, directly here." 
 
 175. Crive me your hands all over. — That is, all included. 
 The idiom is still common. 
 
 177. If not the face of men. — The commentators are all 
 alive here, one proposing to read fate of men, another 
 faith of men, dinothev faiths (as nearer in sound to face). 
 It is difficult to see much difficulty in the old reading, 
 imderstood as meaning the looks of men. It is prefer-
 
 156 PHILOLOGICA.L COMMENTAET. [aCT IT. 
 
 able, at any rate, to anythiBg wliicli it has been proposed 
 to substitute. 
 
 177. The time's abuse. — This, apparently, must be taken 
 to mean the j)revalence of abuse generally, all the abuses 
 of the time. 
 
 177. Hence to Ids idle led. — That is, bed of idleness, or 
 in which he may lie doing nothing (not vacant or un- 
 occupied bed, as some "svould understand it). 
 
 177. So let high-sighted tyranny. — High-looking, proud. 
 — Some modern editions have rage instead of range, pro- 
 bably by an accidental misprint. 
 
 177. Till each man drop hy lottery. — That is, probably, 
 as if by chance, without any visible cause why he in par- 
 ticular should be struck dovm or taken off. It has been 
 suggested, however, that there may be an allusion to the 
 process of decimation. 
 
 177. Tlian secret Romans. — Eomans bound to secrecy. 
 
 177. And loill not palter? — To palter (perhaps ety- 
 mologically connected with falter) 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 toe ivill fall for it ?—W\\\ die for it. 
 
 177. Men cautelous. — Caiitelons is given to cautels, full 
 of cautels. A caiitel, from the Eoman 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 IIa7nlct {i. 3) ; —
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C-ESAH. 157 
 
 " And now no soQ nor cautel doth besmirch 
 The virtue of his will." 
 
 And in the passage before ns cauteloiis is cautious and 
 wary at least to the point of cowardice, if not to that of 
 insidiousness and trickery. 
 
 177. Oldfeehle carrions. — Carrions, properly masses of 
 dead and putrefying flesh, is a favourite term of contempt 
 ■with Shakespeare. 
 
 177. Such sii^eriuf/ souls, etc. — See the note on that 
 gentleness as in 44. In the present speech we have both 
 the old and the new phraseology; — such . . . that in one 
 line, and such ... a* in the next. — Suffering souls are 
 patient, all-enduring souls. 
 
 177. Tlie even virtue of our enterprise. — The even virtue 
 is the firm and steady virtue. The our is emphatic. 
 
 177. Nor the insuppressive mettle. — The keenness and 
 ardour incapable of being suppressed (however illegiti- 
 mate such a form Avith that sense may be thought to be) . 
 So we have ia As You Lilce It {Hi. 2) " The fair, the 
 chaste, and unexpressive she." And even Milton has 
 {Lycidas, 176) " And hears the unexpressive \i\\.^\j\s\. song." 
 — For mettle see 102. 
 
 177. To thinh that. — The easiest supplement, or filling 
 up of the ellipsis, is, so as to think. 
 
 177. Is guilty of a several bastardy. — The etymology of 
 the word bastard is uncertain. Shakespeare 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 honourable 
 birth. For several see 444. 
 
 178. But what of Cicero ? ete. — Both the prosody and 
 the sense direct us to lay the emphasis on him. 
 
 178. He will stand very strong. — He will take part 
 with us decidedly and warmly.
 
 153 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEKTAUT. [aCT n. 
 
 181. It shall ie said, his judr/ment, etc. — Dr Guest, in 
 the paper " On English Verbs," iu ttie Second Volume of 
 the Proceedings of the Phihlogical Society, which has 
 been ah-eady referred to, adduces some examples to show 
 that the primary sense of shall is to owe. Hence the use 
 of should 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 lan- 
 guage ; 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 popular usage 
 had given to it. Again, the power Avhich overrides the 
 Avill 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 popidar 
 meaning, but in the other two was tied to its original and 
 more precise signification. These distinctions still con- 
 tinue a shibboleth for the natives of the two sister king- 
 doms. Walter Scott, as is well known to his readers, 
 could never thoroughly master the difficulty." 
 
 In the Third Edition of Dr Latham's English Language, 
 pp. 470 — i7-i, may be found two other ex]3lanations ; the 
 first by the late Archdeacon Julius Charles Hare (from 
 the Cambridge Philological Museum, ii. 203), the second 
 by Professor De Morgan (from the Proceedings of the 
 Philological Society, lY. 185 ; No. 90, read 25th Jan. 1850). 
 
 The manner of using shall and ivill which is now so 
 completely established iu England, and which through-
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 159 
 
 out the greater part of the country is so perfectly uniform 
 among all classes, was as yet only growing up in the early 
 part of tlie seventeenth century. This was very clearly 
 shewn some years ago by a writer in JBlaclcwood's Maga- 
 zine, by comparing many passages of the authorized ver- 
 sion of the Scriptures, published in 1611, with the same 
 passages in the preceding translation, called the Bishops' 
 Bible, which had appeared in 1568. The old use oi shall, 
 instead of icill, to indicate simple futurity, with the 2nd 
 and 3rd persons, as well as with the 1st, is still common 
 A^-ith 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 pur- 
 pose necessary ; " in 238, " Ci^sar should be a beast with- 
 out a heai't ; " in 351, " The enemies of Caesar shall say 
 tliis ; " in 620, " The enemy, marching along by them, By 
 them shall make a fuller nmnber up." "We have occasion- 
 ally the same use of shall even in Clarendon : — " Whilst 
 there are Courts in the world, emidation and ambition 
 tvill be inseparable from them ; and kings who have no- 
 thing to give shall be pressed to promise " (Hist., Booh 
 xiii) . In some rare instances the received text of Shake- 
 speare gives us xi'ill where we should now use shall ; as 
 when Portia says, in The Jlerchant of Venice, Hi. 4, 
 " I'll hold thee any wager, 
 
 'WTien we are both accoutred like young men, 
 
 ril prove the prettier fellow of the two." 
 
 But here we should probably read " / prove." 
 
 181. Shall no ichit appear. — Whit is the Original Eng- 
 lish wiht, any thing that exists, a creature. It is the same 
 Avord with ivight, which we now use only for a man, in 
 the same manner as we have come in the language of the 
 present day to understand creature almost exclusively in 
 the sense of a living creature, although it was formerly 
 used freely for every thing created, — as when Bacon says 
 {Essay, Of Truth), "The first creature of God, in the
 
 160 PniLOLOGICAL COMMEIs'TAET. [aCT II. 
 
 works of the days, was the hght of the sense ; the last was 
 the light of reason ; and his Sabbath work ever since is 
 the illumination of his spirit ; " or (^Advance, of Learning, 
 B. i.), " The wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, 
 which is the contemplation of the creatures of Grod, work- 
 eth according to the stuff, and is limited thereby ; " or a^ 
 it is written in our authorized version of the Scriptures 
 (1 Tim. iv. 4), "Every creature of Grod (irdv Kria^a Qeov) 
 is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with 
 thanksgiving." We have creature used in this extensive 
 sense even by so late a writer as the Scotch metaphysician 
 Dr Reid (who died in 179G), in his Inquiry into the 
 Human Mind, ch. 1, first published in 1764 : — " Conjec- 
 tures and theories are the creatures of men, and will 
 always be found very unlike the cre^atiu'es of God." — No 
 wliit is not anything, nowhat, not at all. And our modern 
 not (anciently noiiglit) is undoubtedly no loliit : — how 
 otherwise is the t to be accounted for ? So that our Eng- 
 lish "I do not speak," =1 do no whit speak, is an exactly 
 literal translation of the French Je ne parle pas (pv point), 
 which many people believe to contain a double negative. 
 182. Let us not hreak uith Mm. — That is, Let us not 
 break the matter to him. This is the sense in which the 
 idiom to hreaJc with is most frequently found ia Shake- 
 speare. Thus, in Much Ado Aboitf Nothing (i. 1), the 
 Prince, Don Pedro, says to his favourite Don Claudio, 
 " If thou dost love fau' Hero, cherish it ; and I will break 
 Avith 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 Verona (iii. 1), 
 " I am to break with thee of some aftairs." But when in 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor (iii. 2), Slender says to 
 Ford, in answer to his invitation to dinner, " We have 
 appointed to dine vsdth Mistress Anne, and I would not 
 break with her for more money than I'll speak of," he 
 means he would not break his engagement with her. The
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAR. IGl 
 
 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 substantive 
 shrew ; and according to Home Tooke (Div. of Purler/, 
 457-9), both are formations from the Original English 
 verb si/rwan, 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 forvassyrwian, syrwyan, searwian, searwan, sear- 
 ian, serian), interprets the old verb as meaning to pre- 
 pare, endeavour, sti'ive, arm, to lay snares, entrap, take, 
 bruise. A shrew, according to this notion, might be in- 
 ferred to be one who vexes or molests ; and shrewd will 
 mean endowed with the qualities or disposition of a shreAV. 
 Shrew, as Tooke remarks, was formerly applied to a male 
 as well as to a female. So, on the other hand, paramour 
 and Jover, now only used of males, were formerly also ap- 
 plied to females ; and in some of the provincial dialects 
 viUain is still a common term of reproach for both sexes 
 alike. 
 
 Both to shreiv and to heshrew are used by our old writers 
 in the sense of to ciu"se, which latter verb, again (originally 
 cursan ov cursiari) , also primarily and properly signifies to 
 vex or torment. Now, it is a strong confirmation of the 
 derivation of shrewd from the verb to shrevj that we find 
 shrewd and curst applied to the disposition and temper by 
 our old wTiters in almost, or rather in precisely, the same 
 sense. Shakespeare himself aftords us several instances. 
 Thus, in Much Ado Ahout JSfothing (ii. l),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 Dream- (Hi. 2), 
 Helena, declining to reply to a torrent of abuse from 
 Hermia, says, " I was never curst; I have no gift at all
 
 1G2 rniLOLOGICAL COMilEXTAKY. [aCT II. 
 
 iu shrewishness.^' And iii The Tavimg of the Shrew (i. 
 2), first we have Hortensio describing Katliarine to his 
 friend Petrucio as "intolerable curst, and sh'ewd, and 
 froward," and then we have Katharine, the shrew, repeat- 
 edly 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, whetlier the substantive or the verb, 
 always, I believe, and also shrewd very frequently, appear 
 throughout the Pirst Polio with ow as the diphthong, 
 instead o^ eio ; and in The Taming of the Shrew the word 
 shrew is in various places made to rhyme with the sound 
 of o; so that tliere can be little doubt that its common pro- 
 nunciation in Shakespeare's day was shrow, and also that 
 the same vowel sound was given to shrewd or shrowd in 
 at least some of its applications. It is the reverse of 
 what appears to have happened in the case of the word 
 which probably was formerly pronounced shew (as it is 
 still often spelled), but now always show. Thus Milton, 
 in his 7th Sonnet : — 
 
 " How soon hath Time, the suhtle thief of youth. 
 Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year I 
 My hasting days fly on with full career, 
 But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th." 
 
 So likewise in II Penseroso (l7l, 172) : — 
 
 "Of every star that heaven doth shew, 
 And every herb that sijos the dew." 
 
 In the case, again, of strew, or straw, neither mode 
 eitlier of spelling or of pronunciation can perhaps be said 
 to have quite gone out, although the dictionaries, I be- 
 lieve, enjoin us to write the word with an c, 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, tlie terms curst and shrew, and
 
 SC. l.J JULIUS C.ISAU. 1G3 
 
 shrewd, and shrewish are often used with a special refer- 
 ence to the tongue. But sharpness of tongue, again, 
 always implies some sharpness of understanding as well 
 as of temper. The terms shrewd and shrewdly, accord- 
 ingly, 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 admission 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 judg- 
 ments or conjectures. "We say, " I shrewdly susj^ect or 
 guess," or " I have a shrewd guess, or suspicion," taking 
 the liberty of thus asserting or assuming our own intel- 
 lectual 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 refer- 
 ence, the sharpness which it implies is generally, if not 
 always, a more or less impleasant 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 Alexandria. Shrewdness is even used by 
 Chaucer in the sense of evil generally ; as in The House 
 of Fame, Hi. 537 : — 
 
 " Speke of hem harm and shi-euednesse, 
 Instead of gode and worthinesse." 
 
 And so too Bacon : — " An aut is a wise creature for it 
 self; but it is a shrewd thing in an orchard or garden." 
 Essay 23rd ; " 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 remai'kable that no
 
 164i PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT II. 
 
 notice is taken of this sense of the word either by Johnson 
 or Todd. Many examples of it are given by Webster 
 under both Im2)rove and Improvement. They are taken 
 from the writings, among others, of Tillotson, Addison, 
 Chatham, Blackstone, Gibbon. AVe all remember 
 
 " How doth the little busy bee 
 Improve each shining hour." 
 
 Even Johnson himself, in The Bambler, talks of a man 
 " capable of enjoying and improving life," — by which he 
 can only mean turning it to account. The im of improve 
 must be, or must have been taken to be, the preposition 
 or the intensive particle, not the in negative, although it 
 is the latter which we have both in the Latin improhus 
 and improho, and also in the Trench improuver, the only 
 signification of which is to disapprove, and although in 
 the latinized English of some of our writers of the six- 
 teenth century to imjjrove occurs in the senses both of to 
 reprove and to disprove. In Much Ado About Nothing, 
 ii. 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 dis- 
 prove it. The manner in Avhich the word impi'ove was 
 used in the middle of the seventeenth century may be 
 seen from the following sentences of Clarendon's : — " This 
 gave opportunity and excuse to many persons of quality 
 ... to lessen their zeal to the King's cause ; . . . and 
 those contestations had been lately improved with some 
 sharpness by the Lord Herbert's carriage towards the 
 Lord Marquis of Hertford " (Hist., Book vi.). " Though 
 there seemed reasons enough to dissuade her [the Queen] 
 from that inclination [of retiring from Oxford, when it 
 was threatened with a siege, for Exeter], and his majesty 
 heartily wished that she could be diverted, yet the per- 
 plexity of her mind was so great, and her fears so vehe- 
 ment, both improved by her indisposition of health, that
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAH. 1G5 
 
 all civility and reason obliged everybody to submit " {Id., 
 Booh via.). 
 
 187. And envy afterwards. — 'Envy bas bere Uie sense 
 often borne by tbe Latin invidi-a, or nearly the same 
 with hatred or malice. And tliis, as Malone remarks, 
 is the sense in which it is almost always losed by Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 187. Let us he sacHJlcers. — I cannot think that the 
 Lefs he of the First Folio indicates more, at most, than 
 that it was the notion of the origiaal printer or editor 
 that sacrificers shonid be pronounced with the emphasis 
 on the second syllable. If we keep to the ordinary pro- 
 nunciation, the line will merely have two supernumerary 
 short, or unaccented, sj'llables ; 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. 
 
 187. We all stand up, etc. — Spirit is the emphatic word 
 in this line. 
 
 187. And let our hearts, etc. — Vid. 155. 
 
 187. Tliis shall marJc. — For the shall see 181.— The old 
 reading is " This shall make'' which is sense, if at all, only 
 on the assimiption that mahe is here equivalent to make 
 to seem. I have no hesitation in accepting the correction, 
 which we owe to Mr Collier's MS. annotator. "We have 
 now a clear meaning perfectly expressed ; — this will show 
 to all that our act has been a meas^ire of stern and sad 
 necessity, not the product of envy (or private hatred) . 
 
 187. Our purpose necessary, etc. — There is nothing 
 irregular in the prosody of this line, nor any elision to be 
 made. The measure is completed by the en of envious ; 
 the two additional unaccented syllables have no prosodical 
 effect. 
 
 188. Yet I do fear 7u'?«.— The old reading is, "Yet I 
 fear him ; " the do was ioserted by Steevens. It im- 
 proves, if it is not absolutely required by, the sense or
 
 16G PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY, [aCT II. 
 
 expression as well as the prosody. Mr Knight, by whom 
 it is rejected, says, " The pause which naturally occurs 
 before Cassius offers an answer to the impassioned argu- 
 ment of Brutus would be most decidedly marked by a 
 proper reader or actor." This 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 the printer or so-called editor had no notion of what 
 the svords meant, or whether they had any meaning : in 
 his exhibition of them, with a full-point after Ccesar, they 
 have none. 
 
 189. Is io liimself, etc. — To tltinlc, 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, Hi. 11, to Cleopatra's question, after the battle 
 of Actium, " What shall we do, Enobarbus ? " the answer 
 of that worthy is, " Think and die." 
 
 189. And that tcere 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 
 when in 551 Brutus says, " There is no terror, Cassius, in 
 your threats." 
 
 102. The clock hath stricken. — Yid. 46. 
 
 19 i. Whether Ccesar will come forth to day or no. — 
 Whether is thus given uncontracted here in all the old 
 copies. And it might have so stood, inoffensively enough, 
 in all the other passages in which the slight irregularity of 
 the superfluous short syllable has been got rid of by its 
 conversion into where or ivheW. 
 
 194. Quite from the main opinion. — " Quite from " is 
 quite away from. So in Twelfth Night, v. 1, Malvolio, 
 charging the Countess, with having written the letter, 
 says: —
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CvESAK. 167 
 
 " You must not now deny it is your hand ; 
 Write from it, if you can, in hand or phi-ase." 
 
 Malone remarks that the words " main opinion " occur 
 also in Troihis and Cressida, where, as he thinks, they 
 signify, as here, general estimation. The passage is in i. 
 3:— 
 
 " Why then we should our main opmion crush 
 In taint of our best man." 
 
 Johnson's interpretation is perhaps better; — "leading, 
 fixed, predominant opinion." Mason has ingeniously 
 proposed to read " mean opinion " in the present passage. 
 
 194. Of fantasy, etc. — -Fantasy i-s fancy, or imagination, 
 with its unaccountable anticipations and apprehensions, 
 as opposed to the calculations of reason. 'Ey ceremonies, 
 as Malone notes, we are to understand here omens or 
 signs deduced from sacrifices 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 Fal- 
 staff's (to Prince Henry) " AVere it not here apparent 
 that thou art heir apparent " (First part of King Henry 
 the Fourth, i. 2), — where the herein also certainly intend- 
 ed to coincide with the heir, giving rise to a suspicion that 
 the latter word may have, sometimes at least, admitted of 
 a different pronunciation in Shakespeare's day from that 
 which it always has now. So when Milton says of our 
 first parents after their fall {Par. Lost, x. 112) that 
 
 " Love was not in their looks, either to God 
 Or to each other, but apparent guilt," 
 
 he means by " apparent guilt " manifest and imdoubted 
 guilt. In other cases by apparent we mean, not empha- 
 tically apparent, or indisputable, but simply apparent, 
 apparent and nothing more, or what we otherwise call 
 probable or seeming. "The sense is apparent " would
 
 168 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAKT. [aCT II. 
 
 meau tliat the sense is plain ; " tbe apparent sense is," 
 that the sense seems to be. 
 
 19-i. The unaccustomed terror. — Unaccustomed is un- 
 usual ; we now commonly employ it for unused to. Terror 
 has here the active sense, as fear has in 190. 
 
 191?. And the persuasion of his augurers. — Augurer, 
 formed from the verb, is Shakespeare's usual word, in- 
 stead of the Latin augur, which is commonly employed, 
 and which be 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 dispatched by the 
 hunter." He quotes in illustration Spenser's description 
 {F. Q. a. 5) :— 
 
 " Like as a lion whose imperial power 
 A proud rebellions unicom defies, 
 To avoid the rash assault and wrathful stout 
 Of his fierce foe him to a tree applies ; 
 And, when him running in fidl 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 sur- 
 prised 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 mentioned by Clau- 
 dian. Elephants were seduced into pitfalls, liglitly cover- 
 ed with hurdles and turf, on wliich a proper bait to tempt 
 them was exposed. See Pliny's Natural Ilislorg, Book 
 viii." Reference might also be made to a speech of Timon 
 to Aperaautus in Timon of Athens, iv. 3, " If thou wert 
 the lion," etc., which is too long to be quoted. The
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS aiSAE. IGO 
 
 import of the For, with which Decius introduces his state- 
 ment, 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. lie says, Tie does ; being then most flattered. — The 
 ing of being counts for nothing in the prosody. For the 
 ed qI flattered, see the note on 24G. 
 
 197. Hg the eighth hour. — It is the eight hour in the 
 first three Folios. The author, however, probably wrote 
 eighth. 
 
 199. Doth hear CcBsar hard. — Vid. lOo. In the Second 
 Folio the hard in this passage is changed into hatred. 
 But the meaning is manifestly different from Avhat that 
 would give, even if to hear one hatred were English at all. 
 
 200. Go along hy him. — Pope, w^ho is followed by the 
 other editors before Malone, changed hy into to. But to go 
 along hy a person was in Shakespeare's age to take one's 
 way where he was. So afterwards in 620, " The enemy, 
 marching along by them " (that is, through the country 
 of the people between this and Philippi) . 
 
 200. ril fashion Min. — I will shape his mind to our 
 purposes. 
 
 201. The morning comes upon us. — It may just be noted 
 that aU the old copies have "upon's." And probably 
 such an elision would not have been thought inelegant at 
 any time in the seventeenth century. 
 
 202. Let not our looks put on our purposes. — Put on 
 sueli expression as woidd betray oiu' purposes. Compare 
 the exhortation of the strong-minded wife of Macbeth to 
 her husband (Macheth, i. 5) : — 
 
 " To beguile the time, 
 Look like the time : bear welcome in yoiir eye, 
 Your hand, your tongue ; look like the innocent flower, 
 But be the serpent under it."
 
 170 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTABT. [aCT II. 
 
 But the sentiment taltes its boldest form from tlie lips of 
 INIacbetli himself in the first fervour of his weakness ex- 
 alted into determined wickedness (i. 7) : — 
 
 " Away, and mock the time with fairest show : 
 False face must hide what the false heart doth know." 
 
 202. Formal constancy. — 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 ; " Exeunt. Manet Brutus.'' 
 
 202. The heavy honey-dew of slumher. — This is the cor- 
 rection 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, " unquestionably is not honey-heavy, but 
 honey-dew, a well-known glutinous deposit upon the leaves 
 of trees, etc. ; the compositor was guilty of a transposi- 
 tion." AVe have a trace, it might be added, of some con- 
 fusion or indistinctness in the manuscript, perhaps 
 occasioned by an interlineation, and of the perplexity of 
 the compositor, in the strange manner in which in the 
 Pirst Folio the dew also, as well as the heavy, is attached 
 by a hyphen; thus, "the honey -heavy-Dew." 
 
 202. Thou hast no figures, etc. — Pictures created by 
 imagination or apprehension. So, in The Merry Wives 
 of Windsor, iv. 2, Mrs Page, to Mrs Ford's " Shall we tell 
 our husbands how we have served him (Falstaif ) ? " re- 
 plies, "Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape the 
 figures out of your husband's brains." 
 
 205. You've unyently. — All the Folios have !F' have ; 
 wliich, however, was perhaps not pronounced differently 
 from the modern elision adopted in tlie present text. As 
 that elision is still common, it seems unnecessary to sub- 
 stitute the full You have, as most of the recent editors 
 have done. 
 
 205. Stole from my led. — Vid. 46,
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C.ISAR. 171 
 
 205. I urged you further. — This is the reading of the 
 old copies. Mr Collier, as elsewhere, h.'SiB farther. 
 
 205. Which sometime hath his hour. — That is, its hour. 
 Vid. 54. 
 
 205. JVafture of your hand. — Wafter is the form of the 
 Avord in all the Folios. 
 
 205. Fearing to strengthen that impatience. — For the 
 prosody of such lines see the note on 24G. 
 
 205. An effect of humour. — JItimour is tlie peculiar 
 mood, or caprice, of the moment ; a state of mind opposed 
 or exceptional to the general disposition and character. 
 
 205. As it hath much, prevailed on your condition. — 
 Condition is the general temper or state of mind. "We 
 still say ill-conditioned, for ill-tempered. Thus, in The 
 Merchant of Venice, i. 2, Portia makes the supposition 
 that her suitor the black Prince of Morocco, although liis 
 complexion be that of a de\dl, 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 Someo and Juliet, Hi. 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 pronoim 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 remarkable instance, in another form of construc- 
 tion, of how completely the pronoun in such established 
 modes of speech was formerly apt to be overlooked, or 
 freated as non-significant, occurs in our common version 
 of the Bible, wl.ere in 1 Kings, 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
 
 172 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 have in Troilits and Cressida, v. 2, where (Ulysses having 
 also addressed Troilus, " ]N"ay, good my lord, go oif") 
 Cx'essida exclaims to herself, — 
 
 " Ah ! poor our sex ! this fault in us I fiud. 
 The error of our eye dii-ects our mind." 
 
 209. Is it physical ? — Medicinal. 
 
 209. Of the danh morning. — The Second Folio changes 
 danlc into darTc. Mr Collier retains danlc ; but it is not 
 stated that the restoration is made by his maniiscript an- 
 notator. 
 
 209. To add unto Ms sickness. — His is misprinted hit 
 in the First Polio. So in Macbeth, i. 5, we have, in the 
 same original text, " the effect and hit'' apparently for 
 " the effect and it " (the purpose), — although the mis- 
 print, if it be one, is repeated 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 as probably 
 the true reading by Tieck. It cannot, at any rate, be 
 received as merely a different way of spelling if, deliber- 
 ately 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 purity of the 
 old text. 
 
 209. You have some sicJc offence. — Some pain, or grief, 
 that makes you sick. 
 
 209. i?y 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 radical meaning of the term virtue, 
 connected with vis, and perhaps also with vireo, and with 
 vir, is force (which word itself, indeed, with its Latift 
 progenitor ybr//*, may possibly be from tlie same root). 
 The old spelling of the English word, and that which it 
 has here in the First Folio, is vertue, as we still hxive it 
 in the French vertu.
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS c.i;sAK. 173 
 
 209. I cliarm you. — Charm (or cliarme) is the readino' 
 of all the old printed copies, aud Mr Collier tells lis of no 
 correction by his MS. annotator. Pope substituted charge, 
 wbicb was adopted also by Hanmer. It must be con- 
 fessed that the only instance Avbieb has been referred td 
 in support of charm is not satisfactory. It is adduced 
 by Steevens from Cymheline, i. 7, where lachimo says to 
 Imogen, — 
 
 " ' Tis your graces 
 That from my mutest conscience to my 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 effect as it 
 were by incantation. Charm is no doubt a derivative 
 from carmen, as incantation or enchantment is fi'om cano. 
 In the passage before iis, I charm you (if such be the 
 reading) must mean I adjure or conjure you. Spenser 
 uses charm with a meaning which it does not now retain ; 
 as when he says in his Shepherd's Kalenclar (October, 118), 
 " Here we our slender pipes may safely charm," and, in 
 the beginning of his Colin Clout's Come Some Again, 
 speaks of " charming his oaten pij)e unto his peers," that 
 is, playing or modulating (not uttering musical soimds, 
 as explained by Nares, but making to utter them) . Still 
 more peculiar is the application of the word by Marvel 
 in a short poem entitled " The Picture of T. C. in a Pros- 
 pect of Plowers ;" — 
 
 " Meanwhile, ■whilst every verdant thing 
 Itself does at thy heauty charm ;" — 
 
 that is, apparently, delights itself in contemplating thy 
 beauty. We do not now use this verb thus reflectively 
 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. — 
 Tift'o stage directions are added here by Mr Collier's MS.
 
 17 4< PniLOLOaiCAL COMilENTAUT. [aCT II. 
 
 annotator : — " Kneeling" wliere Portia says " Upon my 
 knees I charm you;" and "Raising lier" 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. 
 
 211. To keep with you, etc. — To keep company with, 
 you. To keep in the sense of to live or dwell is of con- 
 stant occurrence in our old writers ; and Nares observes 
 that the}^ 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 exclusively English. But it is also an old 
 French word, though bearing rather the sense of our law 
 term to comfort, wliich 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 conforto (from 
 con and fortis), meaning to strengthen. 
 
 211. And talk to you sometimes, etc. — The true proso- 
 dical "saew of this line is to regard the two combinations 
 "to you" and "in the" as counting each for only a single 
 syllable. It is no more an Alexandrine than it is an 
 hexameter. 
 
 213. Being so fatliered, and so hushanded. — AVe have 
 here two exemplifications of the remarkable power which 
 our language possesses (though a consequence of its po- 
 verty of inflection, or of the loss of their distinctive ter- 
 minations 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 by 
 the crown in our political constitution,— the more, inas- 
 much as Avords 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 another. 
 Most of our verbs that are of purely English or Gothic 
 descent arc stiU in their simplest form undistinguishable
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C.ESAB. 175 
 
 from noixns. The noiin and the verb might be exhibited 
 together in one system of inflection ; father, for instance, 
 might be at once declined and conjugated, through fa- 
 thered, and fatherinq, and have fathered, and 'ijiiill father, 
 and all the other 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 liveliness 
 of expression, consisting as that does in their power of 
 setting before us, not merely the fact that something has 
 been. done or is doiag, but the act or process itself as a 
 concrete thing or picture. Shakespeare in particular 
 freely employs any noun whatever 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 ; no tiling undervalued 
 To Cato's daughter, Erutus' Portia." 
 
 TJte Merchant of Venice had certainly been written by 
 1598. 
 
 213. I have made strong proof. — The prosody concurs 
 here with the sense in demanding a strong emphasis upon 
 the word strong. 
 
 214. All the characterg. — All that is charactered or 
 expressed by my saddened aspect. The word, which occurs 
 also in the Merrg Wives of fVindsor, 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 rulgar, accent- 
 uation 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 entertained as 
 to the pronunciation of the participial form both in the 
 liae, "Are visibly charactered and engraved," in The Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona, ii. 7, and in the " Sliow me one 
 scar charactered on the skin" oi the Second Fart of lung
 
 173 PHILOLOGICAL COilMEXTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 Henry tlie Sixth, in. 1, as well as with regard to that of 
 the compound which occurs in Troilus and Cressida, 
 Hi. 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, who's that knocJcs ? — Who is that who 
 knocks ? The omission of the relative is a familiar ellipsis. 
 Vid. 34. Who's, and not who is, is the reading of all the 
 Folios. It is imnecessary to suppose that the two broken 
 lines were intended to make a whole between them. 
 They are best regarded as distinct hemistichs. Mr Col- 
 lier, however, prints " Who is't that knoclis ?" Does he 
 follow his MS. annotator in this ? 
 
 217. The Lig. (for Ligarius) is Cai. throughout in the 
 original text. The authority for the pra?nomen Cains, 
 by which Ligarius is distinguished throughout the Play, 
 is Plutarch, in his Life of Brutus, towards the beginning. 
 
 218. To wear a kerchief. — Kerchief is cover-chief, the 
 chief hemg the French chef, head (from the Latin Cap-Vit, 
 which is also the same word with the English Head and 
 the German Ilaiipt'). But, the proper import of chief 
 being forgotten or neglected, 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 handkerchief, though 
 both kerchief \i%G^ and its other compound neckerchief 
 are nearly gone out. In King John, iv. 1, and also in As 
 You Like It, iv. 3 and v. 2, the word in the early editions 
 is handkercher ; and this is likewise the form in the 
 Quarto edition of Othello. 
 
 218. Would you tvere not sick ! — I do not understand 
 upon what principle, or in wliat notion, it is that the 
 Shalvcspcarian editors print would in such a construction 
 as this with an apostrophe ('Would). Even if it is to be 
 taken to mean / would, the / will not be a part of the
 
 SC. 1.] JULirS CyXSAR. 177 
 
 word which has been cut off, like the i of ii in the con- 
 traction 'tis. 
 
 221. Thou, like an exorcist. — "Here," says JNIason, 
 " and in all other places where the word occurs in Shake- 
 speare, 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 Cymheline, iv. 2 : — 
 
 " No exerciser harm thee ! 
 Nor no witchcraft charm thee ! 
 Ghost unlaid forbear thee ! 
 Nothing ill come near thee !" 
 
 in AlVs Well that Ends Well, v. 3, where, on the ap- 
 pearance of Helena, thought to be dead, the King ex- 
 claims, 
 
 " Is there no exorcist 
 Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes ? " 
 
 and in the Second Fart of King Henry the Sixth, i. 4, 
 where Bolingbroke asks, " "Will her ladyship [the Duchess 
 of Grloster] 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 Eome," we have the 
 stage direction, " Throwing away his handage.'" 
 
 221. My mortified spirit. — J/or-^/^-ef/ here makes four 
 syllables, s'pirit counting for only one. And mortified 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 goi^ig from what fol- 
 lows 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 exhorting one to walk
 
 178 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 on briskly. — At the end of tliis speech the old copies 
 have Thunder as a stagre direction. 
 
 SCENE II. — The same. A Room i?i Cesar's Palace. 
 Thunder and Lightning. Enter C^SAR in his night-goicn. 
 
 227. C(ss. Nor heaven, nor earth, have heen at peace to-night* 
 Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, 
 Help, ho! they nvurder Ccesar ! — Who's within.' 
 
 E7iter a Servant. 
 Serv. My lord ? 
 229. Cces. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, 
 And bring me their opinions of success. 
 Serv. I ^vill, my lord. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Calphurnia. 
 
 Cal. "What mean you, Cissar .!' Think you to walk forth i 
 You shall not stir out of your house to-day. 
 
 C(ss. 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. Cajsar, I never stood on ceremonies, 
 Yet now they fright me. There is one within, 
 Besides the things that wo have heard and seen, 
 Eecounts 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 slu'iek and squeal about the streets. 
 
 Cicsar ! 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 Cicsar shall go forth ; for these predictions 
 Are to the world in general, as to Caesar. 
 
 Cal. When beggars die, there arc no comets seen ; 
 The heavens themselves blaze fortli the death of princes 
 23G, Cc€s. Cowards die many times before their deaths ;
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C-ESAU. 179 
 
 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. 
 
 Re-enter a Seuvant. 
 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 ; 
 CiBsar should be a beast without a heart, 
 
 If he should stay at home to-day fur fear. 
 No, Caesar shall not ; Danger knows full well 
 That Caesar is more dangerous than he. 
 We are two lions littered in one day, 
 And I the elder and more terrible ; 
 And CiEsar 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 kuee, prevail in this. 
 
 240. Cms. 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. Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar: 
 I come to fetch you to the senate-house. 
 
 242. Cas. 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 ^vill not come to-day : TeU them so, Decius. 
 Cal. Say, he is sick. 
 244. Cas. Shall Caesar send a lie ? 
 
 Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far 
 To be afeared to tell grey-beards the truth ? 
 Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come. 
 Dec. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, 
 N 2
 
 180 PHILOLOGICAL COMilENTAEY. [aCT II. 
 
 Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so. 
 
 245. C(ES. The cause is in my -^xtII, I will not come ; 
 That is enough to satisfy the senate. 
 
 But, for your private satisfaction, 
 Because I love you, I will let you know. 
 Calphumia 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 Eomans 
 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 aU amiss interpreted : 
 It was a vision fair and fortunate : 
 
 Tour statue spouting blood in many pipes, 
 In which so many smiling Eomans bathed. 
 Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck 
 Eeviving blood ; and that great men shall press 
 For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance. 
 This by Calphurnia's dream is signified. 
 Cws. And this way have you well expounded it. 
 
 249. 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 Cnesar. 
 
 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 up the senate till another time, 
 
 When Ccesar's wife shall meet with better dreams. 
 
 If Cajsar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 
 
 Lo, Casar is afraid ? 
 
 Pardon me, Cirsar ; for my dear, dear love 
 
 To your proceeding bids mc tell you this ; 
 
 And reason to my love is liable. 
 
 250. Cees. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia ! 
 I am ashamed I did jncld to them. — 
 
 Give me my robe, for I will go : — 
 
 Enter Pcblius, Brutcs, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonics, 
 and CiNNA. 
 
 And look where Publins is come to fetch me. 
 Pub. Good morrow, Cxsar.
 
 SC. 2.] JULirS CiESAR. ISl 
 
 252. Cas. "Welcome, Piiblius. — 
 
 What, Brutus, are you stiiTcd so early too ? — 
 Good morrow, Casca. — Caius Ligarius, 
 Cajsar was ne'er so much your enemy, 
 As that same ague which hath made you lean. — 
 "WTiat is't o'clock ? 
 
 253. Bru. Caesar, 'tis struckeu eight. 
 
 254. Cas. I thank you for your pains and courtesy. 
 
 Enter Antony 
 See ! Antony, that rerels long o' nights, 
 Is, notwithstanding, up : — 
 Good morrow, Antony. 
 
 Ant. So to most noble CiBsar. 
 256. Cces. Bid them prepare within : — 
 I am to blame to be thus waited for. — 
 Now, Cinna : — Xow, Metellus : — What, Trebonius ! 
 I have an hom-'s talk in store ftr you. 
 Eemember that you call on me to-day : 
 Be near me, that I may remember you. 
 
 Treb. Cfflsar, I yrSi: — and so near will I be. 
 That your best friends shall wish I had been farther. [^Aside. 
 
 C(BS. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with mo ; 
 And we, like friends, will straightway go together. 
 259. Bru. That every like is not the same, Caesar, 
 
 The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! [Aside. Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. Tlie same. A Soom in Ccesar^s Palace. — 
 This is not in the old editions ; but tlie stage direction 
 that follows is, only with Julius Ccesar (for Ccesar). 
 
 227. Nor heaven nor earth, etc. — This use of nor . . . 
 nor for the usual neither . . . nor of prose (as well as of 
 or . . . 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 Ltike vi. 
 42 : — " "Why beholdest 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, 
 Avhen thou thyself beholdest not the beam that is iu thine 
 OAvn eye ? " — The strict gi'ammatical principle would of
 
 182 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 course require " has been at peace ; " but wbere, as bere, 
 tbe two singular substantives are looked at togetber by tbe 
 mind, it is more natural to regard tbem as making a plu- 
 rabty, and to use the plural verb, not^vitbstanding tbe dis- 
 junctive conjunction (as it is sometimes oddly designated). 
 
 229. Do present sacrijice. — In tbis and a good many 
 other cases we are now obliged to employ a verb of a 
 more speciiic character instead of the general do. This 
 is a different kind of archaism from what we have in tbe 
 " 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 tbe 
 issue, or of what is prognosticated by tbe sacrifice as likely 
 to happen. Johnson remarks (note on Othello, Hi. 3) 
 that successo is also so used in Italian. So likewise is 
 succes in French. In addition to earlier examples of such 
 a sense of tbe English word, Boswell adduces from Sidney's 
 Arcadia : — " He never answered me, but, pale and qu.ak- 
 ing, went straiglit away ; and straight my heart misgave 
 me some evil success ; " and from Dr Barrow, in tbe latter 
 part of tbe seventeenth century : — " Tea, to a person so 
 disposed, that success which seemeth most adverse justly 
 may be reputed tbe best ami most happy." Shakespeare's 
 ordinary employment of the word, however, is accordant 
 vrith our present usage. But see 735, 736. Sometimes 
 it is used in tbe sense of our modern succession ; as in -4 
 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 understood, 
 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 bad suc- 
 ceeded very ill: but when we say simply, that any thing 
 has succeeded, we mean that it has had a prosperous issue.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CiESAK. 183 
 
 Shakespeare's use of the word sticcess may be lurthtT 
 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., it. 2 ; 
 
 " Commend me to my brother : soon at night 
 I'll send hiju 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 Noth., iv. 1 ; 
 
 " And so success of mischief shall be born. 
 And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up." 
 
 Second Part of Henry IV., iv. 2; 
 
 " Should you do so, my lord. 
 My speech should fall into such vile success 
 Which my thoughts aimed not." — Othello, Hi. 3. 
 
 233. I never stood on ceremonies. — Vid. 194. 
 
 233. Hecounts onost horrid sights. — Who recounts. As 
 in 34 and 214. 
 
 233. Which drizzled Hood. — To drizzle is to shed (or 
 to fall) in small drops. The Dictionaries bring it from 
 the German rieseln (of the same signification) ; but the 
 English word probably derives a main part of its peculiar 
 effect from the same initial dr which we have in drij), 
 drop, drivel, etc. 
 
 233. Tlie noise of battle hurtled in the air. — The three 
 last Folios substitute hurried for hurtled. Hurtle is pro- 
 bably the same word with hurl (of which, again, ivhirl 
 may be another variation). Cliaucer 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 ; " 
 and again in C. T. 4717 : —
 
 184 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 "0 firste moving cruel firmament! 
 "With thy dim-nal s-^egh that croudest ay, 
 And hurtlest all from est tU Occident, 
 That naturally wold hold another way." 
 
 Its very sound makes it an expressive word for any kind 
 of rude and crushing, or " insupportably advancing," 
 movement. Hustle and justle (or jostle) may be con- 
 sidered, if not as other forms, or somewhat softened mo- 
 difications, of the same vocal utterance of thought, as at 
 least fashioned upon the same principle. 
 
 233. Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan. — This 
 is the reading of the Second and subsequent Polios. The 
 Pirst has "Horses do neigh, and dying men did grone." 
 "We may confidently aifirm that no degree of mental agi- 
 tation ever expressed itself in any human being in such 
 a jumble and confusion of tenses as this, — not even insan- 
 ity or drunkenness. The " Fierce fiery warriors JigM 
 upon the clouds," 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 present ; but who ever heard of two facts or 
 circumstances equally past, strung together, as here, \x\th. 
 an and, and enunciated in the same breath, being pre- 
 sented the one as now going on, the other as only ha^dng 
 taken place ? Mr Collier's MS. annotator, it is to be pre- 
 sumed, approves or accepts the " did neigh " of the Second 
 Folio. 
 
 233. And gJiosfs did slirielc and 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 Hamlet, i. 1 : — 
 
 "In the most high and palmy state of Rome, 
 A little ore the mightiest Julius fell, 
 The graves stood tenantlcss, and the sheeted dead 
 Did squeak and gibber ia the Roman streets."
 
 sc. 2.] jnius c.i:sAE. 185 
 
 This passage, however, is found only in the Quarto 
 editions of Hamlet, and is omitted in all the Folios. 
 
 233. Beyond all use. — "\Ye might still say "beyond all 
 use and wont." 
 
 234. Whose end is purposed, etc. — The end, or comple- 
 tion, of which is designed by the gods. 
 
 236. What say the auyurers ? — Vid. 194. — The preced- 
 ing stage direction is in the original edition, " Enter a 
 Servant." 
 
 238. In shame of coioardice. — For the shame of coward- 
 ice, to put cowardice to shame. 
 
 238. Ccesar should he a heast. — We should now say 
 Caesar looidd be a beast. It is the same use of shall where 
 we now use loill that has been noticed at 181. So in 
 Merchant of F'enice, i. 2, Nerissa, conversing wdth her 
 mistress Portia about her German suitor, the nephew of 
 the Duke of Saxony, says, " If he should offer to choose, 
 and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform 
 your father's will if you should refuse to accept him." 
 Tet the fashion of saying It should appear, or It should 
 seem (instead of It tcould), which has come up with the 
 revived study of our old literatui'e, is equally at variance 
 with the principle by which our modern employment of 
 shall and ivill is regulated. 
 
 238. We are two lions. — The old reading, in aU the 
 Folios, is We heare (or hear in the Third and Fourth). 
 Kobody, as far as I am aware, has defended it, or affected 
 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. It is, however, 
 confirmed, if it needed any confirmation, by its being 
 found among the corrections of Mr Collier's MS. anno- 
 tator.
 
 1S6 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEJfTAKT. [aCT II. 
 
 239. Is consumed in eonjidence. — As anything is con- 
 sumed in fire. 
 
 240. For tliy Jiumotcr. — For the gratification of thy 
 ■whim or caprice, f^id. 205. Mr Collier's IMS. annotator 
 directs that Ca?sar slionld here raise Calphiirnia, as he 
 had that she should deliver the last line of her preceding 
 speech kneeling. 
 
 241. Ccesar, all Jiail ! — Sail in this sense is the Original 
 English liael or hdl, meaning hale, whole, or healthy (the 
 modern German lieil). It ought rather to he spelled 
 Tiale. Sail, frozen rain, is from liaegl, haegel, otherwise 
 Jiagol, hagul, or haegol (in modern German hagel). 
 
 242. To bear ony greeting. — To greet in this sense is the 
 Original English gretan, to go to meet, to welcome, to 
 salute (the grilssen of the modern German) . Tlie greet 
 of the Scotch and other northern dialects, Avhich is found 
 in Spenser, represents quite another verb of the old lan- 
 guage, greotan, or graetan, to lament, apparently the same 
 root which we have in the Erench regret and the Italian 
 regrctto, as well as in our own regret (obtained immediately 
 from the Erench). 
 
 244. To he afeard. — The common Scotch form for afraid 
 is %i]]l feared, or feard, 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. 1: — 
 
 " "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, Pompey, with thy sails." 
 
 In The Taming of the Shrew, i. 2, we have in a single 
 line (or two hemistichs) both senses of the verb to fear : 
 — " Tush ! tush ! fear boys with bugs," says Petrucio in 
 scorn ; to which his servant Grumio rejoins, aside, " Eor 
 he fears none." 
 
 246. That is enough to satisfy the senate. — ISTot (as the
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C-ISAR. 1S7 
 
 words might in other circumstances mean) enough to 
 ensure their being satisfied, but enough for me to do to- 
 wards that end. 
 
 24G. She dreamt to-niglit she saw my statue. — It maybe 
 mentioned that both Eowe and Pope substitute last night, 
 whicli would, indeed, seem to be the most natural expres- 
 sion ; 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 
 
 " Tour statue spouting blood in many pipes." 
 
 And so likewise in 138, and again in 378. Only in one 
 line, which occurs in Richard the Third, Hi. 7, 
 
 " But like dumb statues or breathing stones," 
 
 is it absolutely necessary that it should be regarded as of 
 three syllables, if the received reading be correct. In 
 that passage also, however, as in every other, the word in 
 the First Polio is printed simply statues, exactly as it al- 
 ways is in the English which we now wi'ite and speak. 
 
 On the other hand, it is certain that statue was fre- 
 quently written statua in Shakespeare's age ; Bacon, for 
 example, always, I believe, so wi-ites it ; and it is not im- 
 possible 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 connt prosodically only for one. 
 
 " Prom authors of the times," says Peed, in a note on 
 The Two Gentlemen 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 unfortuJi- 
 ately he does not favour us with one such instance. Nor, 
 with the exception of the single line m Richard the Tliird, 
 the received reading of which has been suspected for an-
 
 188 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 other reason (hreatliing stones being not improbably, it 
 has been thought, a misprint for unlreathing stones'), has 
 any decisive instance been produced either by Steevens, 
 who refers at that passage to what he designates as Seed's 
 " very decisive note," or by any of the other commenta- 
 tors anywhere, or by Nares, who also commences his ac- 
 count 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 426 : — 
 " Even at the base of Pompey's statue." 
 
 These two lines, it will be observed, are similarly con- 
 structed 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 to be ac- 
 counted verses often syllables, or were ever so pronounced. 
 
 First, there is the whole class of those ending with 
 words in tion ovsion. This termination, it is true, usually 
 makes two syllables in Chaucer, and it may do so some- 
 times, though it does not generally, in Spenser ; it is fre- 
 quently dissyllabic, in indisputable instances, even with 
 some of the dramatists of the early part of tlie seventeenth 
 century, and particularly vnih. Beaumont and Fletcher ; 
 but it is only on the rarest occasions that it is other than 
 monosyllabic in the middle of the line with Sliakespeare. 
 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 follow- 
 ing line of the present speech, — 
 
 " But for your private satisfaction," — 
 can we think that the concluding word was intended to
 
 sc. 2.] JULirs CiESAK. 189 
 
 have any different pronunciation from that whict it has 
 in the line of Rotneo and Juliet (it. 2), — 
 
 " What satisfaction canst thou have to-night ? " 
 
 or in this other from Othello (in. 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 ^vitll 
 the verbal affix ed, the sign of the preterite indicative 
 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 mo- 
 dern pronunciation ; but it evidently was not so in Shake- 
 speare'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 Borneo and Juliet, Hi. 2, repeating the Xurse's 
 words, exclaims, 
 
 "Tybalt is dead, and Eomeo banished : 
 That banished— \ka.i 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 
 Avhen we disregard the antiquated pronunciation of the 
 tion at the end of a line, and read it as one syllable. In 
 the present Play, for example, it might be so read in 
 305,— 
 
 " Thy brother by decree is banished ; " — 
 
 as it was probably intended (in another prosodical posi- 
 tion) to be read afterwards in 310, —
 
 190 PHILOLOGICAL COMME^^TAET. [aCT II. 
 
 " That I was constant Cimber should he banished," 
 and as it must be read iu 306, — 
 
 " For the repealing of my banished brother." 
 
 Yet, although most readers iu 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 pronuueiation throughout the volume. How such a 
 line as 
 
 " Thy brother by decree iS banished," — 
 
 being a very common prosodical form in Shakespeare, — 
 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 prosodically exactly of the same form or struc- 
 ture 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 
 Avhich, 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 slie saw my 
 statue," and "Even at the base of Pom])ey's statue," and 
 of others similarly constructed, supposing statue to be 
 only a dissyllable, as well as all those having in the last 
 foot only tion or ed. But most probably this particular 
 kind of truncated line, consisting of ]iine syllables, would 
 not occur so frequently as it does but for the influence
 
 sc. 2.] JULIUS cj;sAK. 191 
 
 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, al- 
 though 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 satis- 
 iiiction" was the more readily accepted as a sufficient 
 verse by reason of the old syllabication of the word, which, 
 even by those who had abandoned it (as Shakespeare 
 himself evidently had 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 somethiug of the effect of a separate 
 syllable even when it had ceased to be generally so pro- 
 nounced. But after the public ear had thus become re- 
 conciled 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 instrumentality of the half separable ed and the half 
 dissyllabic tion. The line " But for your private satisfac- 
 tion," pronounced as we have assumed it to have been, 
 Avould 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 efiect upon the ear was precisely 
 the same. Still the conservative principle in language 
 would keep the later and more decided deviation fi-om the 
 normal form comparatively infrequent. Sometimes a 
 singular ejBfect of suddenness and abruptness is produced 
 by such a form of verse ; as in the shaqj appeal of Mene- 
 nius, in the opening scene of Coriolanus, to the loud and 
 grandiloquent leader of the mutinous citizens, — 
 
 " "Uliat do yoic think. 
 You, the great toe of this assembly ? " 
 
 Unless, indeed, we are to assume the verse here to be
 
 192 PUILOLOaiCAL COMMENTAET. [aCT TI. 
 
 complete and regular, and that assemhli/ is to be read as 
 a word of four syllables, as-sem-hl-y. In the present Play, 
 however, at 295, we have an instance to which that objec- 
 tion does not apply. The line there — "Look, how he 
 makes to Csesar : mark him " — is of precisely the same 
 rhythm with " She 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 294), 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 syllabication of the ed. 
 After all, Shakespeare's word may really have been 
 statua, as Eeed and Steevens suppose. This is decidedly 
 the opinion of Mr Dyce, who, in his BemarJcs on Mi- 
 Collier's and Ilr Knighf s editions {p. 186), calls attention 
 to the following line from a copy of verses by John Harris, 
 prefixed to the 1647 Polio 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 jorosodical value 
 either of a dissyllable or of a trisyllable according to cir- 
 cumstances, just as Mantua, for instance, has throughout 
 Romeo and Juliet, where we have in one place such a 
 Hne as 
 
 " For then thou canst not pass to Mantu-a " {Hi. 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" (m. 3), 
 or 
 
 " So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed " {v. 2).
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS dSAE. ' 193 
 
 We have a rare example of the termination -Hon forming 
 a dissyllable with Shakespeare iu the middle of a line in 
 Jaques's description of the Fool Touchstone {A$ You, 
 Like It, a. 2) :— 
 
 " He hath strange places crammed 
 "With observation, the wliich he vents 
 In mangled forms." 
 
 This may be compared with the similar prolongation of 
 the -trance in the sublime chant of Lady Macbeth (^Mac- 
 beth, 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 Ve7'ona, ii. 4, 
 
 " And that hath dazzled my reason's light ; ' ' 
 
 or with this in A Midswmner Night's Dream, Hi. 2, — 
 
 " me ! you Juggler ! you canker-blossom." 
 
 The name Henri/, in like manner, occasionally occurs as 
 a trisyllable both in the three Parts of Henry VI., and 
 also in Bichard III. 
 
 The following are examples of what is much more com- 
 mon, the extension or division of similar combinations at 
 the end of a line : — 
 
 " The pai-ts and gi-aces of the wrestler." 
 
 As You Like It, ii. 2 ; 
 
 "And lasting, in her sad remembrance." 
 
 Twelfth Night, i. 1 ; 
 
 " The like of him. Know'st thou this country .' " 
 
 Ibid., i. 3 ; 
 
 " "Which is as bad as die -with tickling." 
 
 Much Ado About Xoth., Hi. 1 • 
 
 " 0, how this spring of love resembleth." 
 
 Two Gent, of Ver., i. 3 ; 
 o
 
 IQi PHILOLOGICAIi COMME>sTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 " And these two Dromios, one in semblance." 
 Com. of Err. i. 1 ; 
 
 " These are the parents to these children." — Ibid. 
 
 "Fail' sir, and you my merry mistress." 
 
 Tam. of Shrew, iv. 5. 
 
 In other cases, liowever, 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. 1 ; 
 
 " I'U follow you and tell what answer." 
 
 Third Part of Henry VI., iv. 3. 
 
 " Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment." 
 Mer. of Ven., iv. 1. 
 
 Unless, indeed, in this last instance we ought not to read 
 commandement (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. Which, like a fountain with an hund)'ed spouts. — 
 This is the reading of both the First and Second Folio. 
 Mr CoUier, however, has "« hundred." 
 
 246. Aiid these does she apply for learnings and -portents. 
 — This is the reading of all the Folios. It is not quite 
 satisfactory ; and the suspected corruption has been at- 
 tempted to be cared in various ways. Shakespeare's ha- 
 bitual accentuation of portent seems to have been on the 
 last syllable. If the passage were in any one of cer- 
 tain others of the Plays, I should be inclined to arrange 
 the lines as follows : — 
 
 " And these docs she apply for warnings and 
 Portents of evils imminent ; and on her knee 
 Ilath 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 tlian 
 what the I'eccived an-angement produces in the first. But
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C^SAE. 195 
 
 80 slight a monosyllable as and in the tenth place would 
 give us a structure of verse of which, although common 
 in sevex'al of the other Plays, we have no example in this. 
 See Prolegomena, sect. vi. 
 
 246. Of evils imminent. — This conjectural emendation, 
 which appears to be Warbvu-ton's, had long been generally 
 accepted ; but it has now the authority of Mr Collier's 
 manuscript annotator. The reading in all the old copies 
 is " And evils." 
 
 247. For tinctures, e.e. — Tinctures and stains are un- 
 derstood both by IMalone and SteeVens as carrjdng an 
 allusion to the practice of persons dipping their handker- 
 chiefs 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 
 interpretation. Yet does it not make the speaker assign 
 to Caesar by implication the very kind of death Calphur- 
 nia's apprehension of which he professes to regard as 
 visionary ? The pressing for tinctures and stains, it is 
 true, would be a confutation of so much of Calphimiia's 
 dream as seemed to impl}^ that the Eoman people would 
 be dehghted viith his death, — 
 
 " Many lusty Romans 
 Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it." 
 
 Do we refine too much in supposing that this inconsist- 
 ency between the purpose and the language of Decius is 
 intended by the poet, and that in this brief dialogue be- 
 tween him and Caesar, in which the latter suffers 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 unconscious prophet and the blinded 
 victim ? Compare ^08. 
 
 Johnson takes both tinctures and cognizance in the 
 heraldic sense as meaning distinctive marks of honour
 
 196 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 and armorial bearings (in part denoted bj colours) . But 
 the stains and relics are not so easily to be accounted for 
 on this supposition ; neither would it be very natui'al to 
 say that men should press to secure such distinctions. 
 The speech altogether Johnson ehai'acterizes as " inten- 
 tionally pompous " and " somewhat confused." 
 
 249. TJie senate liave concluded. — To conclude, for to 
 resolve, is one of numerous expressions, Avhich, although 
 no longer used, are nevertheless almost as universally in- 
 telligible as ever. They are the veterans, or ejneriti, of the 
 language, Avhose regular active service is over, but who 
 still exist as a reserve force, or retired list, which may 
 always be called out on special occasions. 
 
 249. Apt to he rendered. — Easy and likely to be thrown 
 out in return or retaliation for your refusing to come. 
 
 249. Shall they not ivhispcr ? — We should now say 
 "TFi/Uheynot?" Vid. 2'iS. 
 
 249. To your proceediny . — To your advancement. So 
 in Gloster's protestation, in Bich. III. iv. 4, — 
 
 " Be opposite all planets of good luck 
 To my proceeding ! if with dear heart's lore, 
 Immacidato devotion, holy thoughts, 
 I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter;" 
 
 that is, to my prospering, as we should now say. 
 
 249. 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 whei'e you are concerned is subject to 
 and is overborne by my aftection. Vid. 67. 
 
 250. In the original stage direction the name of Puh- 
 lius stands last, instead of first. 
 
 252. Are you stirred. — We have lost this application 
 of stirred (for out of bed). The word now commonly 
 used, astir, does not occur in Shakespeare ; and, what is 
 remarkable, it has hitherto, although Ave have long been 
 in the habit of applying it freely in various other ways as
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CyESAE. 197 
 
 well as in tins sense, escaped all or most of our standard 
 lexicographers. I do not find it either in Todd's Johnson, 
 or in Webster, or in Eichardson, or in "Walker, or in 
 Smart. Of course, the emphasis is on you. 
 
 253. ^Tis struclcen eight. — Shakespeare uses all the 
 three forms, struch, strucJcen, and stricTcen, of which the 
 existing language has preserved only the first. Vid. 192. 
 Mr Collier has here stricTcen. Strictly speaking, of course, 
 the mention of the striking of an hour by an old Eoman 
 involves an anachronism. Nor is the mode of expression 
 that of the time when here, and in 253 and 272, what 
 we now call eio;ht and nine o'clock in the mornins: are 
 spoken of as the eighth and ninth hours. 
 
 254. That revels long o' nights. — Vid. 65. Here again 
 it is a-nights in the original text. 
 
 256. Bid them frepare. — The use o^ prepare thus abso- 
 lutely (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. 
 
 256. / have an hour's talk, etc. — Hour is here a dis- 
 syllable, as such words often are. 
 
 259. That every like is not the same. — That to be like 
 a thing is not always to be that thing, — said in reference 
 to Caesar's " We, like friends." So the old Scottish pro- 
 verb, "Like's an ill mark;" and the common Trench 
 saying, as it has been sometimes converted, " Le vraisem- 
 blable n'est pas toujours le vrai." The remark is surely 
 to be supposed to be made aside, as weU as that of Tre- 
 bonius in 257, although neither is so noted in the old copies, 
 and the modern editors, while they retain the direction 
 to that effect inserted by Eowe at 257, have generally 
 struck out the similar one inserted by Pope here. IMr 
 Collier, I see, gives both ; but whether on the authority 
 of his MS. annotator does not appear. — In the same man- 
 ner as here, in Measure for Measure, v. 2, to the Duke's
 
 198 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT II. 
 
 remark, " This is most likely," Isabella replies, " O, that 
 it were as like as it is true." 
 
 259. The Jieart of JBruUis yearns to thinJc npon. — 
 Yearns is earnes m. the original text. It has been gener- 
 ally assumed that yearn and earn are radically the same ; 
 the progress of the meaning probably being, it has been 
 supposed, to feel strongly — to desire or long for — to en- 
 deaA'our after — to attain or acquire. But Mr AVedgwood 
 has lately, in a paper published in the Proceedings of the 
 FJiilological Society, V. 33 (No. 105, read 21 Feb., 1851), 
 stated strong reasons for doubting whether there be really 
 any connexion between eatm and either yearn or earnest. 
 The fundamental notion involved in earn, according to 
 the Anew taken by Mr Wedgwood, is that of harvest or 
 reaping. The primary and essential meaning of yearn and 
 earnest, again (which are unquestionably of the same 
 stock), may be gathered from the modern German gem, 
 willingly, readily, eagerly, Avhich in our Original English 
 was georn, and was used as an adjective, signifying desir- 
 ous, eager, intent. "We now commonly employ the verb 
 to yearn only in construction with ybr 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 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 illustrated by the following 
 examples : — 
 
 " It yearns me not if men my garments wear." 
 
 Ilcn. v., iv. 3; 
 
 " 0, how it yearned my heart, when I beheld." 
 
 Rich. IT,, V. 5. 
 
 This is the exclamation of the groom. So Mrs Quickly, 
 in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Hi. 5 (speaking also, per- 
 haps, in the style of an uneducated person), " Well, she la- 
 ments, sir, for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it."
 
 sc. 3.] jrLirs c.xsae. 199 
 
 "To think upon that every like is" -would not liave 
 been said in Shakespeare's day, any more than it would 
 be in Gin's, except under cover of the inversion. 
 
 SCENE III. — The same. A street near the Capitol. 
 
 Enter Aetemidortts, reading a Paper. 
 
 260. Art. Ctesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not 
 near Casca ; have an eye to Cinna ; trust not Trebonius ; mark 
 well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast 
 wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, 
 and it is betit against Caesar. If thou be'st not inunortal, look about 
 you : Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend 
 thee ! Thy lover, Artemidorus. 
 
 Here will I stand, till Ctesar pass along, 
 And as a suitor -will I give liim this. 
 My heart laments, that virtue cannot live 
 Out of the teeth of emulation. 
 If thou read this, Csesar, thou mayest live ; 
 If not, the fates with traitors do contrive. \_Exit. 
 
 260. Security gives xi-ay to. — In this sense (of leaving 
 a passage open) Ave should now rather say to make way 
 for. To give xvay has come to mean to yield and break 
 under pressure. The heading of this scene in the original 
 text is merely, Enter Artemidorus. 
 
 Artemidorus, who was a lecturer on the G-reek rhetoric 
 at Eome, had, according to Plutarch, obtained his know- 
 ledge of the conspiracy from some of his hearers, who 
 were finends of Brutus, that is, probably, through expres- 
 sions unintentionally dropt by them. 
 
 260. Thy lover. — As we might still say " One who loves 
 thee." It is nearly equivalent to friend, and was formerly 
 in common use in that sense. Thus in Psalm xxxviii. 
 11, we have in the old version " My lovers and my neigh- 
 bom's did stand looking upon my trouble," and also in 
 the common version, " My lovers and my friends stand 
 aloof from my sore." — So afterwards in 375 Brutus begins 
 his address to the people, "Eomans, countrymen, and
 
 200 PHILOLOGICAL COMIIEIS'TAKT. [aCT II. 
 
 lovers." See otLer instances from private letters in 
 Chalmers's Apology, 165. Another change which has been 
 undergone bj this and some other words is that they are 
 now usually applied only to men, whereas formerly they 
 were common to both sexes. This has happened, for ia- 
 stance, to paramour 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 caU 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 
 Fathom, published in 1754! : — "These were ajarmiag 
 symptoms to a lover of her delicacy and pride." Vol. I. 
 ch. 10. 
 
 260. Out of tlie teeth of emulation. — As envy (Yid. 
 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, emulate, and emulous, not in an xuifavourable 
 sense. 
 
 260, With traitors do contrive. — The word contrive m 
 the common acceptation is a very irregular derivative from 
 the French controuver, an obsolete compound of trouver 
 (to find). The English word appears to have been an- 
 ciently written both controve and contreve (Vid. Chaucer's 
 Rom. of the Rose, 4249 and 7547). Spenser, however, 
 has a learned contrive of his o'wn (though somewhat ir- 
 regularly formed too), meaning to spend, consume, wear 
 out, from the Latin contcro, 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 tliis afternoon." 
 
 Tain, of S'trcw, i. 2.
 
 SC. 4.] JULIUS C^SAR. 201 
 
 SCEA^E IV. — The same. Another pari of the same street, 
 before the house of Brutus. 
 
 Baxter Portia atid Lucius. 
 
 261. For. I pr'ythee, boy, rua to the senate-house ; 
 
 Stay not to answer nic, but get thee gone : 
 
 Why dost thou stay .'' 
 Luc. To know my errand, madam. 
 263. For. I would have had thee there, and here again, 
 
 Ere I can tell thee what thou should' st do there. — 
 
 constancy, be strong upon my side ! 
 
 Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue ! 
 
 1 have a man's mind, but a woman's might. 
 How hard it is for women to keep counsel ! — 
 Ai-t thou here yet ? 
 
 Liic. Madam, what should I do ? 
 Run to the Capitol, and nothing else .' 
 And so return to you, and nothing else ? 
 
 For. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, 
 For he went sickly forth : /Vud take good note, 
 A^ hat Cffisar doth, what suitors press to him. 
 Ilark, boy ! what noise is that ? 
 
 Luc. I hear none, madam. 
 
 267. For. Pr'ythee, listen well ; 
 
 I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, 
 And the wind brings it from the Capitol. 
 
 268. Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. 
 
 Enter The Soothsatek. 
 
 269. For. Come hither, fellow ; Which way hast thou been .' 
 Sooth. At mine own house, good lady. 
 
 271. For. What is' t o'clock? 
 
 Sooth. About the ninth hour, lady. 
 
 For. Is Csesar yet gone to the Capitol ? 
 
 Sooth. Madam, not yet ; I go to 'take my stand. 
 To see him pass on to the Capitol. 
 
 For. Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not ? 
 
 Sooth. That 1 have, lady : if it will please Caesar 
 To be so good to Cisesar as to hear me, 
 I shall beseech him to befriend himself. 
 
 277. For. "^Tiy, knowest thou any harm's intended towards him ? 
 
 278. Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. 
 Good morrow to you.
 
 202 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEJfTABT. [aCT II. 
 
 Here the street is narrow : 
 The throng that follows C^gar at the heels, 
 Of senators, of prretors, common suitors, 
 Will crowd a feeble man almost to death : 
 I'U get me to a place more void, and there 
 Speak to great Ccesar as he comes along. lExit 
 
 279. Por. I must go in. — Ay me ! how weak a thing 
 The heart of woman is ! 
 
 Brutus ! 
 The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise ! — 
 Sure, the hoy heard me : — Brutus hath a suit. 
 That Ccesar will not grant. — 0, 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. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. — The heading of this scene in the original 
 text is only " Enter Portia and Lucius.^'' 
 
 261. Get thee gone. — An idiom ; that is to say, a pe- 
 culiar 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 him- 
 self) gone. Phraseologies, on the contrary, which are not 
 idiomatic are paradigmatic, or may serve 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 s];)eech in any language. 
 Thus, for instance, in Greek or Latin, while certain parts 
 of speech are indeclinable, those that are declined are 
 either paradigmatic (that is, exemplary), such as the noun 
 and the verb, or non-exemplary, such as the articles and 
 the pronouns. They might be distinguished as repro- 
 ductive and non-reproductive. And such an arrangement 
 of them might be found convenient for some purposes. 
 
 263. O constancy. — Not exactly our present constancy ; 
 rather what wo should now call firmness or resolution. 
 In the same sense afterwards, in 297, Brutus says, " Cas- 
 sius, be constant." The French have another use of con- 
 stant, — B est constant (It is certain), — borrowed from the
 
 sc. 1-.] juLirs CESAR. 203 
 
 Latin impersonal constat, and not unknown to conslo. 
 Vid. 310. 
 
 2G3. I have a magi's mind, hut a ivoman's might. — That 
 is, but only a woman's might. 
 
 263. How hard it is for icomen to Jcerp counsel. — 
 Counsel in this phrase is what has been imparted in con- 
 sultation. In the phrases To taJce counsel and To hold 
 counsel it means simply consultation. The two words 
 Counsel and Council have in some of their applications 
 got a little intermingled and confused, although the Latin 
 Consilium and Concilium, from which they are severally 
 derived, have no connexion. A rather perplexing instance 
 occurs in a passage towards the conclusion of Bacon's 
 Third Essay, entitled Of Unity in Beligion, which is com- 
 monly thus given in the modern editions : — " Surely in 
 eoimsels concerning rehgion, that coimsel of the apostle 
 would be prefixed ; Ira hominis non implet justitiam Dei.^'' 
 But as published by Bacon himself, if we may trust Mr 
 Singer's late elegant reprint, the words are, — " in Coun- 
 cils concerning Eeligion, that Counsel of the Apostle — ." 
 What are we to say, however, to the Latin version, exe- 
 cuted under Bacon's own superintendence ? — " Certe op- 
 tandum esset, ut in omnibus circa Eeligionem consiliis, 
 ante oculos hominum prtefigeretur monitum illud Apos- 
 toli." I quote from the Elzevir edition of 1662 ; p. 20. 
 Does this support Councils or Counsels concerning Eeli- 
 gion ? Other somewhat doubtful instances occur in the 
 20th Essay, entitled "Of Counsel," and in the 29th, 
 " Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates." 
 
 267. / heard a lustling rumour, like a fray. — Mr 
 Knight has by mistake " I hear." — Humour is here 
 (though not generally in Shakespeare) only a noise; a 
 f?^ay is a fight, from the French ; bustle is apparently 
 connected with husy, which is an Original English word, 
 and may perhaps be the same with the German base, 
 wicked. This, if it be so, might lead us to suspect that
 
 204i PniLOLOGICAL COMMEIsTAET. [aCT II. 
 
 quick is also ivicTced. Aud is weaJc (in Chaucer wikke or 
 ivicke) another variation of the same etymon ? 
 
 268. Sooth, madam. — Sooth, when used at all, may still 
 mean either truth or true. AVe see that in Shakespeare's 
 time it also meant truly. The Original EngKsh soth is 
 in like manner used in all these different ways. It may 
 be doubted whether this word has any connexion either 
 with our modern verb to soothe, or with sweet (anciently 
 sot), the siiss of the modern German. 
 
 269. Comehifher, fellow ; lohich way hast thou been? — 
 The line, Avhich stands thus in the original edition, and 
 makes a perfect verse, is commonly cut up into two he- 
 mistichs. 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 been, 
 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 ob- 
 served that we have both Artemidorus and the Soothsayer 
 in the next scene (the First of the Third Act) . Never- 
 theless, there is some apparent want of artifice in what 
 may be almost described as the distribution of one part 
 between two dramatis persoiice ; and there may possibly 
 be something wrong. 
 
 271. What is't o'clock ? — In the original text a clocke. 
 rid. 65. 
 
 277. Why, Icnowest thou any harm's intended towards 
 him ? — Any liarm that is intended. As in 34 and 21-i. 
 
 278. None that I know, etc. — Hanraer and Steevens 
 object to the may chance here, as at once unnecessary to 
 the sense and injurious to.the prosody. We should not 
 have much missed the two words, certainly ; but they 
 may be borne Avith. 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
 
 SC. 4.] JULIUS CJESAR. 205 
 
 doubtful instance tlie rliytlim will be certainly that of an 
 Alexandrine. Let the three words Tcnow icill he, and also 
 the three fear may cliance, at any rate, be each and all 
 emphatically enunciated. 
 
 278. TU (jet me. — Compare this with get thee gone in 
 261, and also witli get you liome in 1. 
 
 279. Ay me I how loeah a thing. — This (-RTitten 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 we been there," and, 
 again, " Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 Wash far away," &c. (Lycidas 56 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. 86), and "Ay me I that 
 fear Comes thmidering back with dreadfid revokition," — 
 although in the latter passage ah has been substituted in 
 many of the modern editions. Ah me is a form which he 
 nowhere uses. 
 
 279. TJie heart of teaman is ! etc. — The broken lines 
 here seem to require to be arranged as I have given them. 
 AVe do not get a complete verse (if that were an object) 
 by the incongruous annexation of the " Brutus" to the 
 previous exclamation. 
 
 279. Brutus hath a suit, etc. — This she addresses in 
 explanation to the boy, whose presence she had for a 
 moment forgotten. 
 
 279. Commend me to my lord. — In this idiomatic or 
 formal phrase the word commend has acquired a somewhat 
 peculiar sigrdfication. 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. Hi. 20) ; and " Tibi me totum
 
 20G PHILOLOGICAL COMME^^TAET. [aCT III, 
 
 commendo atque trado" {Id., Epist. Fam. ii. 6). At the 
 same time, in considering tlie 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 modem tongues more exclusively based upon it, 
 as Avell as in English, in a considerable variety of ways. 
 
 ACT III. 
 SCEN^ I. — IVie same. The Capitol ; the Senate sitting. 
 
 A Crowd of People in the Street leading to the Capitol ; atnong th^m 
 Aetemidokds and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter C-esar, 
 Brctus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, 
 CiNNA, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and others. 
 
 CcEs. The ides of March are come. 
 Sooth. Ay, Cagsar; but not gone. 
 Ai-t. Hail, Cajsar, read this schedule. 
 283. Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read, 
 At your best leisure, this his humble suit. 
 
 Art. 0, Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit 
 That touches Caesar nearer : Eead it, great Caesar. 
 285. Cces. That touches us ? Ourself shall be last served. 
 Art. Delay not, Caesar ; read it instantly. 
 Cces. "What, is the fellow mad ? 
 Pub. Sirrah, give place. 
 289. Cas. What, urge you your petitions in the street .' 
 Come to the Capitol. 
 
 CiESAR enters the Capitol, the rest following. All the 
 Sexatous rise. 
 Pop. I Nvish your enterprise to-day may thrive. 
 Cas. What ent(!rprisc, Popilius ? 
 292. Pop. Fare you wi'll. [Advances to Cesau. 
 
 Dru. What said Popilius Lena ?
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAR. 207 
 
 Cas. He ^\■ishcd to-day our enterprise might tlirive. 
 I fear our purpose is diseovered. 
 
 295. Bru. Look, how he makes to Csesar : Mark him. 
 
 296. Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. — 
 Brutus, what shall be done } If this be know n, 
 Cassius on Cajsar never shall turn back. 
 
 For I will slay myself. 
 
 297. Bru. Cassius, be constant : 
 
 Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes ; 
 
 For, look, he smiles, and Cassar doth not change. 
 
 298. Cas. Trebonius knows his time ; for, look you, Brutus, 
 He draws Mark Antony out of the way. 
 
 \_Exeunt Antoxy and Teebonius. C^sar and the 
 Senators take their seats, 
 Dec. "WTiere is Metellus C'imber ? Let him go, 
 And presently prefer his suit to Coesar. 
 
 300. Bru. He is addressed : press near and second him. 
 
 301. Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. 
 
 302. Casca. Ai'e we all ready } 
 Cas, "WTiat is now amiss, 
 
 That Ca3sar, and his senate, must redress } 
 
 304. Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Ciesar, 
 Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat 
 
 An humble heart : — {Kneeling. 
 
 305. C(BS. I must prevent thee, Cimber. 
 These crouchings, and these lowly courtesies, 
 Might fh-e the blood of ordinary men ; 
 
 And turn pre-ordinance, and first decree. 
 
 Into the law of children. Be not fond, 
 
 To think that Ca;sar bears such rebel blood. 
 
 That will be thawed fi'om the true quality 
 
 "With that which melteth fools ; I mean sweet words, 
 
 Low-crouched cui't'^ies, r.nd base spaniel fawning. 
 
 Thy brother by decree is banished ; 
 
 If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him, 
 
 I spurn thee like a cm* out of my way. 
 
 Know, Csesar doth not wrong ; nor without cause 
 
 Will he be satisfied. 
 
 306. Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, 
 To sound more sweetly in great CiBsar's ear 
 
 For the repealing of my banished brother ? 
 
 307. Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caisar ; 
 Desii-ing thee that Publius Cimber may
 
 208 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT III. 
 
 Have an immediate freedom of repeal. 
 C(Bs. What, Brutus ! 
 
 309. Cas. Pardon, Caesar ; CiBsar, pardon : 
 As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, 
 
 To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. 
 
 310. C(£s. 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 fixt 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 ; 
 Yet, in the number, I do know but one 
 That unassailable holds ou 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. 
 
 Cin. Cajsar, 
 
 312. Cces. Hence ! wUt thou lift up Olympus.'' 
 
 Dec. Great Ca;sar, 
 
 314. Cces. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel .' 
 
 315. Casca. Speak, hands, for me. 
 
 [Casca stabs C^sar in the neck. C^nsAn catches hold of his 
 arm. He is then stabbed by several other Co7ispirators, and 
 at last by Maecus BnuTUS. 
 
 316. Cces. Et til, Brute. — Then, fall, Caesar. 
 
 [Dies. The Senators a7id People retire in confusion. 
 
 Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead ! — 
 Eun hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. 
 
 Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out. 
 Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement! 
 319. Bru. People, and senators ! be not affrighted ; 
 Fly not ; stand still: — ambition's debt is paid. 
 
 Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. 
 
 Dec. And Cassius too. 
 
 Bru. Where's Publius } 
 
 Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. 
 
 Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's 
 Should chance
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAR. 209 
 
 32;3. Bni. Talk not of stuiulin^^ : Tublius, good cheer ; 
 There is no harm intended to your person, 
 Xor to no Roman else : so tell them, Publius. 
 
 Cas. And leave ns, Publius ; lest that the people, 
 Rushing on us, should do your age some miscliict'. 
 327- Brii. Do so ; — and let no man abide this deed, 
 But we the doe.s. 
 
 Re-enter Trkbonius. 
 
 328. Cas. Where's Antony ? 
 
 329. Tre. Fled to his house amazed : 
 
 Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run, 
 As it were doomsday. 
 
 Bnt. Fates ! we mil know your pleasures : 
 That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time, 
 And drawing days out, that men stand upon. 
 331. Casca. AYhy, he that cuts off twenty years of life 
 Cuts off so many years of fearing death. 
 
 Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit : 
 So are we CiBsar's friends, that have abridged 
 His time of fearing death. — Stoop, Romans, stoop, 
 And let us bathe our hands in Ciesar'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 ! 
 
 333. 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 
 
 334. Bru. How many times shall Cresar bleed in sport, 
 That now on Pompey's basis lies along, 
 
 No worthier than the dust ! 
 
 335. Cas. So oft as that shall be, 
 
 So often shall the knot of us be called 
 The men that gave their country liberty. 
 Dec. 'WTiat, shall we forth .'' 
 337. 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. 
 
 Brti. Soft, who comes here .' A friend of Antony's. 
 339. Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel ; 
 Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down : 
 P
 
 210 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEIS'TAET. [aCT TIT. 
 
 And, bcinc^ prostrate, thus he bade me say. 
 Brutus is noble, -n-ise, valiant, and honest ; 
 Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and lo^•ing : 
 Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him ; 
 Say, T feared Ca3sar, honoured him, and loved him. 
 If Brutus Tvill vouchsafe, that Antony 
 May safely come to him, and be resolved 
 How Ca)sar hath deserved to lie in death, 
 Mark Antony shall not love Ciesar dead 
 So well as Brutus living ; but will follow ^ 
 
 The fortunes and aftairs of noble Brutus, 
 Thorough the hazards of this untrod state, 
 AYith all true faith. So says my master Antony. 
 340. Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ; 
 I never thought him worse. 
 Tell him, so please him come unto this place, 
 He shall be satisfied ; and, by my honour, 
 Depart untouched. 
 
 Sen: I'll fetch him presently. [Exit Sekv. 
 
 342. Bru, I know that we shall have him well to friend. 
 
 343. 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. 
 
 344. Bru. But here comes Antony. — Welcome, Mark Antony. 
 
 345. Ant. mighty Ciiesar ! Dost thou lie so low .•' 
 Are aU thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
 Shrunk to this little measure ? — Fare thee well. 
 I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, 
 "WTio else must be let blood, who else is rank : 
 If I myself, there is no hour so fit 
 
 As C;Esar'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 smolcc 
 Fulfil your plca.sure. 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 Csesar and by you, cut ofl'. 
 The choice and master spirits of this age. 
 34G. Bru. Antony ! beg not your death of us
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS c.t:sae. 211 
 
 Though now wc must appear bloody and cruel, 
 As, by our hands, and this our present act, 
 You see we do, yet see you but oiu- hands, 
 And this the bleeding business they have done : 
 Our hearts you see not, they arc pitiful ; 
 And pity to the general wrong of Home 
 (As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity), 
 Hath done this deed on Ca?sar. 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 kuid love, good thoughts, and reverence. 
 Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's 
 In the disposing of ncAV dignities. 
 
 348. Bru. Only be patient, till we have appeased 
 The multitude, beside themselves with fear, 
 And then we will deliver you the cause 
 
 "WTiy I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, 
 Have thus proceeded. 
 
 349. Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. 
 
 Let each man render me his bloody hand : 
 First, -Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you : — 
 Next, Cuius 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, Cssar, 0, '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 woimds, 
 "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 death, 
 r 2
 
 212 PHILOLOGICAL COMME>'TART. [aCT III. 
 
 -^vorld ! thou wast the forest to this hart ; 
 And this, indeed, workl, the heart of thee. — 
 How like a deer, striicken by many princes, 
 Dost thou here lie ! 
 
 Cos. Mark Antony, 
 
 3ol. Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius : 
 The enemies of Ciesar shall say this ; 
 Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. 
 
 352. Cas. I blame you not for praising C;rsar so ; 
 But what compact moan you to have with us ? 
 Will you he pricked in number of our friends ; 
 Or shall we on, and not depend on you ? 
 
 353. Ant. Therefore I took your hands ; but was, indeed, 
 Swayed from the point, by looking down on Cccsar. 
 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. 
 
 354. Brii. Or else were this a savage spectacle. 
 Our reasons are so full of good regard, 
 That, were you, Antony, the son of Csesar, 
 You should be satisfied. 
 
 355. Ant. That's all I seek : 
 
 And am moreover suitor, that I may 
 Produce his body to the market-place ; 
 And in the pidpit, as becomes a friend, 
 Speak in the order of his funeral. 
 Bru. You shall, Mark Antonv. 
 
 357. 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 ? [Asicle. 
 
 358. Bru. By your pardon ; — 
 
 I will myself into the pulpit first. 
 And show the reason of our Cirsar's death : 
 What Antony shall speak, I will protest 
 He speaks by leave and by permission; 
 And that we are contented, Cresar shall 
 Have all true rites, and lawful ceremonies. 
 It shall advantage more than do us wrong. 
 
 359. Cas. I know not what may fall ; I like it not. 
 
 360. Bru. TMark Antony, here, take vou Cipsar's body 
 You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
 
 SC. i.] JULIUS CiESAR. 213 
 
 But speak all gjoocl you can de\'ise of Ctesar , 
 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. 
 
 362. Brti. Prepare the body, then, and follow us. 
 
 \_Exeunt all but Axtoxy. 
 
 363. Ant. 0, 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 ! 
 
 Over thy woands 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 Ciesar's spirit ranging for revenge, 
 
 "With Ate by his side, come hot from hell. 
 
 Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice, 
 
 Cry Havoc ! and let slip the dogs of war ; 
 
 That this foul deed shall smell above the earth 
 
 With carrion men, groaning for burial. 
 
 E7iter a Servant. 
 
 You serve Octavius Cresar, do you not ? 
 Serv. I do, Mark Antony. 
 Ant. Cffisar did write for him to come to Rome. 
 
 366. Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming : 
 i\iid bid me say to you by word of moutli, — 
 
 Ctesar ! • [Seeing the Body. 
 
 367. A7it. 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,
 
 21 i PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTART. [aCT III. 
 
 Began to water. Is thy master coming ? 
 
 Serv. He lies to-niglit within seven leagncs of Rome. 
 369. 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 shall not back, till I have borne this corpse 
 Into the market-place : there shall I try, 
 In my oration, how the people take 
 The cruel issue of these bloody men ; 
 According to the which thou shalt discourse 
 To yomrg Octavius of the state of things. 
 Lend me your hand. [Exeunt loith Cjlsar's body. 
 
 All the heading that we have to this Act in the original 
 copy, where the whole is thrown into one scene, is, '^'■Flou- 
 rish. Enter Gcesar, J3rufus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Me- 
 tellus, Trebonius, Ci/nna, Antont/, Lepidus, Artemidorus, 
 Puhlius, and tlie SootJ/sm/er." — A Flourish is defined by 
 Johnson " a kind of musical prelude." It is commonly, if 
 not always, of trumpets. Webster has omitted this sense 
 of the word. It is of continual occuri'cnce in the stajie 
 directions of our old Plays ; and Shakespeare has, not 
 only in his Richard the Third, iv. 4, 
 
 "A flourish, trumpets! — strike alarum, drums!" 
 but in Titus Androniciis, iv. 2, 
 
 ""Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus V 
 
 283. Doth desire you to o'er-read. — Over (or o'er) in 
 composition has four meanings: — 1. Throughout (or over 
 all), which is its eftect here (answering to the per in the 
 equivalent peruse) ; 2. Beyond, or in excess, as in overleap, 
 overpay ; 3. Across, as in one sense oi overlook ; 4. Down 
 upon, as in another sense of the same verb. 
 
 283. At your best leisure. — Literally, at the leisure 
 that is best for your convenience, that best suits you. 
 The phrase, however, had come to be uuderstood as im- 
 plying that the leisure was also to be as early as could 
 be made convenient.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CESAR. 21& 
 
 283. This his hmnUe suit. — Suit is from sue (which we 
 also have in composition in ensue, issue, pursue) ; and sue 
 is the French suivre (which, again, is from the Latin 
 sequor, seentiis). A suit of clothes is a set, one piece /o?- 
 lowing or corresponding 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) . 
 
 285. That touches us ? Ourself shall be last served. — 
 This is the correction of Mr Collier's MS. annotator. 
 The common reading is, " What touches us ourself shall 
 be last served." To serve, or attend to, Siperso7i is a fa- 
 miliar form of 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 un- 
 objectionable. Wliatever 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 
 e^'ident that the plurality of the pronoun could not con- 
 veniently be allowed to carry along with it a correspond- 
 ing transformation of all the connected words. Althougli 
 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 con- 
 struction which we constantly employ in common life 
 when in addressing an individual we say " Tou yourself." 
 The same contradiction, indeed, is involved in the word 
 Yourself standing alone. It may be obseiwed, however, 
 that the verb always i^lows the number of the pronoun 
 w^hich is its nominative, so that there is never any viola- 
 tion of the ordinary rule of grammatical concord. "Upon 
 the nature of the word Self, see Latham, Eng. Lan. 416. 
 See also the note on 54, Bid lose his lustre. 
 
 289. There is no such stage direction in the old editions 
 as we now have at the end of this speech.
 
 21G PniLOLOGICAL COilirEKTAEY. [aCT III. 
 
 292. The stage direction attached to this speech is 
 also modern. 
 
 295. LooJc, how he onakes to Ccesar. — We shoukl now 
 say, he makes up to. And we also say to malte/br, with 
 another meaning. — For the prosody of this verse, see note 
 on 216. 
 
 296. Casca, he sudden, etc. — We should now rather say. 
 Be quick. Preventmi is hindrance by something happen- 
 ing before that which is hindered. Vid. 147. 
 
 296. Cassius on Caesar never shall turn hack. — The 
 reading of all the old copies is " or Csesar," and it is re- 
 tained by most or all of the modern editors. It is inter- 
 preted by Ritson as meaning "Either Cfcsar or I shall 
 never return alive." But to turn hack 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 ac- 
 complished retui'n 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 Ca?sar ? I will 
 slay myself, Cassius is supposed to say, whereby eiilier I 
 shall lose my life or Caesar will his. The emendation of 
 " or Caesar" into " on Caesar" Avas proposed and is strongly 
 supported by ]Malone, although he did not venture to in- 
 troduce it into his text. We have probably the opposite 
 misprint of on for or in the speech of Paulina in the con- 
 cluding scene of The Winter s Tale, where the old copies 
 give us — 
 
 "Thfii, .ill stuiid .^till : 
 On ; those that think it is unlawful business 
 I am about, let thcin depart." 
 
 Although Mr Knight adheres to tlic on and the point.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C.DSAE. 217 
 
 297. Cassius, he conslanf. — Vid. 2iZ. 
 
 297. Popilhis Lena speaks not of our 2>urposes. — Al- 
 though 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 2^urpose, or even a 
 monosyllable, such as act or deed. It is completed by the 
 strong syllable piir- in the tenth place, and the two un- 
 accented syllables that follow have no prosodical eflect. 
 Of course, there is also an oratorical emphasis on our, al- 
 though standiug in one of those places which do not 
 require an accented syllable, but which it is a mistake to 
 suppose incapable of admitting such. 
 
 297. Ccesar dotli not change. — In his manner of looking, 
 or the expression of his countenance. 
 
 298. The stage direction attached to this speech is 
 modern. 
 
 300. He is addressed. — To dress is the same word with 
 to direct. Immediately from the Ereiuh drexser, it is 
 ultimately from the Latin rectus and direct us, through the 
 Italian rizzare and dirizzare ; and its literal meaning, 
 therefore, is, to make right or straight. Formerly, ac- 
 cordingly, 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 the Second Part of Kinr/ 
 Henrij tlte Fourth, iv. 4, the King says, " Our nixxj is 
 addressed, our power cclle.'ted;" and in A Midsummer 
 Nir/hfs Bream, v. 1, Philostrate, the Master of the Eevels, 
 makes his official announcement to Theseus thus ; — " So 
 please your Grace, the prologue is addressed." So He is 
 addressed in the pieseut 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 the expi-ession To
 
 218 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT III. 
 
 dress the liair. lu To redress, nieauiug to set to rights 
 agaiu that which has gone wrong, to make that which was 
 crooked once more straight, we have the simple etymolo- 
 gical or radical import of the word completely preserved. 
 To redress is to re-rectify. 
 
 The following are some examples of the employment of 
 the word addressed by writers of the latter part of the 
 seventeenth century: — "When Middleton 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 tlie 
 Tower, who did not then know that Middleton had ar- 
 rived in safety with the King;" etc. — Clarendon, Illsf., 
 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 believed by the 
 King, and, being addressed only to the Marquis of Ormond 
 and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, he might have op- 
 portunity to speak with the King privately and undisco- 
 vered;" etc. — Id., Book ccic. "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, Own 
 Time, I. 799. 
 
 301. You are the^first that rears your hand. — In strict 
 grammar, perhaps, it should be eitlier "rears his" or 
 " rear your ;" but the business of an editor of Shakespeare 
 is not to make for us in all cases perfect grauimar, but to 
 give us what his author in all probability wrote. A 
 writer's grammatical irregularities are as much part of 
 his style, and therefore of his mind and of himself, as any 
 otlier characteristic. 
 
 302. Casca. Are tve all readij? 303. Ca;s. What is
 
 SC. l.J JULIUS C.ESAE. 210 
 
 now amiss, etc. There can, I think, be no doubt that Mr 
 Collier's MS. annotator has here again given us tlie true 
 reading:, and a valuable restoration. AVhat Casca could 
 possibly mean by exclaiming " What is now aniisa. That 
 Caesar and his Senate must redress ?" is nearly inconceiv- 
 able. The question is plainly suitable to Cresar only, to 
 the person presiding; the proceedings 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 natvu'al sequence of the "Are we all ready?" which 
 immediately precedes. Even if any one of the conspirators 
 was likely to have made such a display, it was hardly Casca. 
 
 304. Jifosi puissant Cccsar. — Puissant, and the sub- 
 stantive form puissance, are, I believe, always dissyllables 
 in Milton ; with Shakespeare they generally are so (as 
 here), but not always. Thus in Kinj John, Hi. 1, 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 Fiftli) as necessarily to be read mth the trisyllabic 
 division of the word. It is not even probable that it ought 
 to be so read, — barely possible. In Spenser too we have 
 occasionally this pronunciation : — as in F. Q. v. 2, 7, "For 
 that he is so puissant and strong;" and again in st. 17, 
 " His puissance, ne bear himself upright." 
 
 305. These crouchings. — This is the correction (for the 
 couchings of the old printed copies) of Mr Collier's MS. 
 annotator. Surely it does not admit of a doubt. 
 
 305. 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 narrow conceits of children,
 
 220 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [ACT III. 
 
 ■n-liicli must cliange 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. Jolmson conjectiu'ed that lane might 
 be a misprint for Jaw ; and Mr Collier's MS. annotator, 
 it appears, mates the same emendation. The new reading 
 may still be thouglit 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 '■'■first decree" should 
 be ^^ fixed decree." The word would be spelled j^^r^!, as it 
 is immediately afterwards in 310. 
 
 305. Be not fond, etc. — The sense in which ybHc? is used 
 here (that of foolish) appears to be the original one ; so 
 that when tenderness of affection was 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 Vifonne is a fool ; and the ^ovA fond- 
 ling can scarcely be said to have yet lost that meaniug 
 (though it is omitted by Dr Webster). 
 
 305. Snoli rehel hlood, That loill he thawed. — Vid. 44. 
 
 305. Low-crouched curtesies. — This is the correction of 
 Mr Collier's MS. annotator : the Folios have " Lo^\■- 
 crooked-curtsies" (with hyphens connecting all the three 
 words). "We say to crouch low, but not to crooh low. 
 Curt'aies, which we have here, is the same word which 
 appears in the second line of the present speech as cour- 
 tesies. It is akin to court and courteous, tlie immediate 
 root being the French cour ; wliicli, again, appears to be 
 the Latin curia, — or rather curiata (scil. comitia?), as is 
 indicated by our English court, and the old form of the 
 French word, wliich was the same, and also by the Italian 
 corte and the Spanisli corte and cortes. Mr Collier prints 
 curtesies. It is curtsies in the Second Folio, as well as 
 in the First.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS dSAE. 221 
 
 305. Know, Ccesar doth not icronrj, etc. — This is the 
 reading of all the old priuted copies, and Mr Collier ex- 
 pressly states that it is left untouched by his MS. cor- 
 rector. We must take it as meaning, " Caesar never does 
 Avhat is wi'ong, 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 eilectively expressed 
 by the words. " JSTor without cause will he be satisfied" 
 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 in- 
 tei'pretation to which we are driven for want of a better. 
 jN'ow, all this being so, it is remarkable that tliere 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 Csesar, one speaking to him, ' Ctpsar, thou dost 
 me wrong,' he replied, ' Ca?sar did never wrong but with 
 just cause.'" Aud he ridicules the expression again in his 
 Staple of News ;— " 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 attempted to mend them might perhaps have as well 
 let them alone. After all, Cfesar's declaring that he never 
 did wrong but with just cause would difter little from 
 what Bassanio says in Tlie Merclicint of Venice, iv. 1 : — 
 
 " I bese?ch you, 
 "Wrest once the law to your authority : 
 To do a great right do a little wrong." 
 
 Shakespeare, however, may have retouched the passage 
 himself on being told of Jouson's ridicule of it, though
 
 222 PHILOLOGICAL COMilENTAUr. [aCT III. 
 
 perliaps somewhat hastily aud 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 Aristophanes. 
 
 306. For the repealing, etc. — To repeal (from the French 
 rappeJer') is literally to recall, though no longer used in 
 that sense, — in which, however, it repeatedly occurs in 
 Shakespeare. Thus in Coriolanus, iv. 1, after the banish- 
 ment 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. 
 
 307. 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 different construc- 
 tions, or has had in different stages of the language, va- 
 rious 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 
 Avishing or longing as is the gentlest aud quietest of all 
 things (the soft desire of the common herd of our amatory 
 versemongers) to that kind which gives utterance to itself 
 in the most imperative style of command. 
 
 307. An immediate freedom of repeal. — A free uncon- 
 ditional recall. This application of the term freedom is a, 
 little peculiar. It is apparently imitated from the ex- 
 pression freedom of a city. As tliat is otherwise called 
 the municipal franchise, so this is called enfranchisement 
 in the next speech but one. 
 
 300. As low as to thg foot.— The Second Folio has 
 "As love." 
 
 310. I could he tcell moved. — I could fitly or properly 
 be moved. 
 
 310. If I could pray to move, prayers would move me. —
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C.T.SAE. 223 
 
 The mcauiug seems to be, " If I could employ prayers 
 (as you cau do) to move (others), then I should be moved 
 by prayers (as you might be)." But it is somewhat dark. 
 The commentators see no difficulty, or at least give us no 
 help. "The oracles are dumb." 
 
 310. But I am constant as the nortlicrn star. — Yid. 263. 
 Botli in this line and in the two last lines of the present 
 speech, the term firm would more nearly express the no- 
 tion in our modern English. 
 
 310. Resting quality. — Quality or property of remain- 
 ing at rest or immovable. 
 
 310. Sut there's hat one in all doth hold his place. — 
 That is, its place, as we should now say. Vid. 54. 
 
 310. Apprehensive .—^os^e%^e^ of the power of appre- 
 hension, or intelligence. The word is now confined to 
 another meaning. 
 
 310. That itnassailalle, etc. — Holds on his rank proba- 
 bly means continues to hold his place ; and unshaked oj 
 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 wdth per- 
 fectly steady movement. 
 
 312. Wilt thou lift up Olympus .?^Wilt thou attempt 
 an impossibility ? Think you, with your clamour, to 
 upset what is immovable as the everlasting seat of the 
 Gods ? 
 
 314. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? — Has not 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, not- 
 withstanding, still preserved. Mr Collier in his regidated 
 text adheres to the reading of the First Folio ; but it does 
 not appear that he has the sanction of any restoration of
 
 22i PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 that reading, or correctiou of that of the Second Folio, 
 by his MS. annotator. 
 
 315. — The only stage direction after this speech in the 
 original edition is, " They stab Ctesar.'^ 
 
 316. J^t tu, Brute. — There is no ancient Latin author- 
 ity, I believe, for this famous exclamation, although in 
 Suetonius, I. 82, Csesar is made to address Brutus Kat av, 
 tUvqv ; (And thou too, my son ?). It may have occurred 
 as it stands here in the Latin play on the same subject 
 which is recorded to have been acted at Oxford in 1582 ; 
 and it is found in The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of 
 York, first printed in 1595, on which the Third Fart of 
 King Henry the Sixth is founded, as also in a poem by S. 
 Nicholson, entitled Acolastus his Jflerwit, printed in 1600, 
 in both of which nearly contemporary productions we have 
 the same line : — " J^t tu, Brute ? AVilt thou stab Caesar 
 too ?" It may just be noticed, as the historical fact, that 
 the meeting of the Senate at which Csesar 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 Plutarch tells us, one of the edifices Avhich 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 Ave have here is found also in 
 Hamlet, where {iii. 2) Hamlet questions Polonius about 
 his histrionic performances when at the University : " I 
 did enact Julius Ca;sar," says Polonius; "I was killed i' 
 the Capitol ; Brutus killed me ;" to which the Prince re- 
 plies, " It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf 
 there." So also, in Antony and Cleopatra, ii. G : — 
 
 " What 
 j\radc tho all-honoured, honest, Roman Brutus, 
 With the armed rest, courtiers of heautcous freedom, 
 To drcneh the Capitol?" 
 
 Even Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Tragedy entitled
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CJESAR. 225 
 
 The False One, in defending themselves from the imputa- 
 tion of having taken up the same subject which had been 
 ak-eady brought on the stage in the present Play, say : — 
 
 " Sure to tell 
 Of Cttsar'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." 
 
 319. Ambition's debt is paid. — Its debt to the country 
 and to justice. Unless, as a friend suggests, the meaning 
 may be — Ambition has now received its reward, its due. 
 
 325. iVbr 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. Steev- 
 ens remarks that, according to Hickes, we have in the 
 English of the times before the Conquest sometimes so 
 many as four negatives employed in combination for this 
 end. 
 
 327. And let no man abide this deed. — Let no man be 
 held responsible for, or be required to stand any conse- 
 quences that may follow upon any penalty that may 
 have to be paid on accoimt of, this deed. Another form 
 of the verb to abide is to aby ; as in ^ Midsummer Nighfs 
 Dream, Hi. 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, Hi. 26, 
 "Thou shalt dear aby this blow." It may be questioned 
 whether abide in this sense has any connexion with the 
 common word. To aby has been supposed by some to be 
 the same with buy. — The original stage direction is Enter 
 Trebonius.
 
 226 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 328. Where's Antony. — In the original text, " "Where 
 is Antony." , 
 
 329. As it icere doo77tsday.-'^— Assuming the proper 
 meaning of as to be what was explained in the note on 
 44, as it were will mean literally no more than that it 
 loere, and there will be no express intimation of the clause 
 being suppositive or conditional ; that will be left to be 
 merely inferred from the obvious requirements of the 
 context, as many things in language continually are where 
 no doubt can exist. The full expression would be " as if 
 it were doomsday." — The doom of doomsday is no doubt 
 the same word with dee^n, and means essentially only 
 thought or judging, whether favourable or unfavourable. 
 The Judges in the Isle of Man and in Jersey are called 
 Deemsters, meaning, apparently, only pronouncers of judg- 
 ment upon the cases brought before them. On the other 
 hand, however, in Scotland formerly the Dempster of 
 Court was the legal name for the common hangman. 
 This might suggest a possible connexion between deem or 
 doom and the Latin damno (or demno, as in condemno). 
 But the name Dempster in Scotland also designated a 
 species of judge. The Dempsters of Caraldstone in Eor- 
 farshire 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 ho and his heirs should furnish a person to 
 administer justice in their courts at an annual salary of 
 twenty shillings sterling {facient ipsis deserviri de officio 
 jtidicis, etc.). — Annals, II. 336 [edit, of 1819]. "We con- 
 tinue to use deem indifferently ; but another word origin- 
 ally of tlie same general signitication, censure, has within 
 the last two centuries lost its old seuse, and lias come to 
 be restricted to that of pronouncing an luifavourable 
 iudgment. The other sense, however, is still retained in 
 census, recension, and censor, with its derivative censorship
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 227 
 
 (as it ia in the French forma for the two last-mentioned, 
 censeur and censure). 
 
 331. Why, he that cuts off, etc. — The modern editors, 
 generally, give this speech to Cassias ; but it is assigned 
 to Casca in all the old copies. We may suspect a misprint, 
 — for not only is it more in the manner of Cassius, but it 
 does not seem to be so suitable to the comparatively sub- 
 ordinate position of Casca at the present moment ; — still, 
 considerations of this kind are not decisive enough to 
 warrant us in departing from the only text which claims 
 to be of authority. IS'o alteration is made by Mr Collier's 
 MS. corrector. But it certainly would be nothing more 
 than what we should expect that some confusion should 
 have taken place in the printing of this Play between Cas- 
 sius and Casca, as well as between Lucilius and Lucius. 
 
 333. Stoop, then, and tcash. — So in Coriolamis, i. 10, we 
 have — " Wash my fierce hand in his heart." In both 
 passages wash, which is an Original English word (pre- 
 served also in the German waschen), is used in what is 
 probably its primitive sense of immersing in or covering 
 with liquid. Thus we say to wash with gold or silver. 
 So in Antony and Cleopatra, v. 1, Octavius, on being told 
 of the death of Antony, exclaims, " It is a tidings To toash 
 the eyes of kings." 
 
 333. In states unborn. — The First Polio, 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 retained, or restored, interpreting it as 
 meaning " in theatric pomp as yet undisjilayed." 
 
 33-i. That now on Pompey's basis lies along. — At the 
 base of Pompey's statue, as in 426. — In the copy of the 
 First Folio before me it is " lye along ;" but I do not find 
 such a variation any^vhere noticed, — not even in Jen 
 nens's collation. Lyes is the word iu the Second Folio. 
 
 335. The men that gave their country liberty. — This k 
 Q 2
 
 228 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT ITI. 
 
 tlie reading of all the old copies, which Mr Knight has re- 
 stored, after their had been turned into our by the last 
 centiu-y editors (Malone included), not only unnecessarily 
 and unwarrantably, but also without notice. 
 
 337. 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 straitest sect of our re- 
 ligion." JSTor is there anything intrinsically absurd in 
 such a mode of expression. If we are not satisfied to con- 
 sider it as merely an intensified superlative, we may say 
 that the most boldest should mean those who are boldest 
 among the boldest. So again in 426 ; " This was the most 
 unkindest cut of all." In most cases, however, the double 
 superlative must be regarded as intended merely to ex- 
 press the extreme degree more emphatically. Double 
 comparatives are very common in Shakespeare. 
 
 339. Say, I love Brutus. — Mr Knight has, apparently 
 by a typographical error, " I lov'd." 
 
 339. May safely come to him, 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 426, 
 Caesar's blood is described by Antony as 
 
 " — rushing out of doors, to be resolved 
 If Brutus so unkindly knocked or no ;" 
 
 and in 506 Brutus, referring to Cassius, asks of Lucilius, 
 " How he received you, let me be resolved." — Mr Collier's 
 MS. annotator appends the stage direction "Kneeling" 
 to the first line of this speech, and "Sising" to the last. 
 
 340. Tell him, so j)lease 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 ellipsis of tlie 
 usual nominative {it) before the impersonal verb {please);
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 229 
 
 and the infinitive come also wants the customaiy prefix to. 
 " So please him come" is equivalent to If it please (or 
 may please) him to come. 
 
 342. / know tliat tee sliall have Jiim icell 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., Booh vii. To friend is equivalent to for 
 friend. So we say To take to tvife. The German form 
 of to (zu) is used in a somewhat similar manner: Das 
 toird mich zu eurem Freunde machen (That will make me 
 your friend). In the Winter's Tale, v. 1, We have "All 
 greetings that a King at friend Can send his brother." 
 
 343. Falls sJirewdlj/ to the purpose. — The purpose is the 
 intention ; to the purpose is according to the intention, 
 as aimy from the purpose, or heside the purpose, is with- 
 out any such coincidence or conformity ; and to fall 
 shrewdli/ to the purpose may be explained as being to fall 
 upon that which it is sought to hit with mischievous 
 sharpness and felicity of aim. Fid. 186. 
 
 344. The origiaal heading is " Enter Antony." 
 
 345. mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? — IMr Col- 
 lier states, in his Notes and Emendations, p. 400, that a 
 stage direction of his MS. annotator requires Antony, on 
 his entrance with this line, to kneel over the body, and to 
 rise when he comes to " I know not, gentlemen, what you 
 intend," etc. 
 
 345. Who else is rank. — Is of too luxuriant growth, 
 too fast-spreading power in the commonwealth. 
 
 345. As Ccesar's death's hour. — This is the reading of 
 all the old copies. INIr Collier prints " death hour." 
 
 345. Nor no instrument. -^Here the double negative, 
 while it occasions no ambiguity, is palpably much more 
 forcible than either and no or nor any would have been.
 
 230 PHILOLO&ICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III 
 
 345. Oflalfthat worth as.—Yid. 44. 
 
 345. / do beseech ye, if you hear me hard. — See note on 
 Bear me hard in 105. — The present line afFords a remark- 
 able 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. 
 402) : — " I call ye, and declare ye now, returned Suc- 
 cessful beyond hope, to lead ye forth," etc. In the ori- 
 ginal form of the language j/e (ge) is always nominative, 
 and you (eow) accusative ; being the very reverse of what 
 we have here. 
 
 345. Live a thousand years. — Suppose I live ; If I live ; 
 Should I live. But, although the suppression of the con- 
 ditional conjunction is common and legitimate enough, 
 that of the pronoun, or nominative to the verb, is hardly 
 so defensible. The feeHng probably was that the 1 in the 
 next line might serve for both verbs . 
 
 345. 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 apprehend, 
 however, that such an expression as apt to die (for ready 
 or prepared to die) would have been felt in any stage of 
 the language to involve an unusual l&xtension of the 
 meaning of the word, sounding about as strange as aptus 
 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 inclin- 
 ation, 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 
 century; 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 understand an act- 
 ive fitness. The word apte was wont to be not much used 
 in French ; some of the dictionaries do not notice it ;
 
 so. 1.] JULITJS C-SSAE. 231 
 
 E-ichelet characterizes it as obsolete ; adding, on the 
 authority of Father Bouhours, that the noun aptitude is 
 occasionally employed, although not considered to belong 
 to the Court language. Like many other old-fashioned 
 words, however, this has been revived by recent Avriters. 
 Such expressions as " On est apte a juger," meaning 
 " One has no difficulty in concluding," are common in 
 modern books. 
 
 345. A^ here, hy Ccesar and hy you, cut off. — "We may 
 resolve the ellipsis by saying " as to be," or " as being cut 
 off." And "Ziy Cassar " is, of course, beside Ca?sar; " hy 
 you," through your act or instrumentality. A play of 
 words, as it is called, was by no means held in Shake- 
 speare's day to be appropriate 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. Whatever may be the etymology of hy, its 
 primary meaning seems to be alongside of (the same, ap- 
 parently, with that of the Greek Trapa). 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). Vid. 620. 
 
 345. The choice and master spirits of this age. — Choice 
 here may be understood either in the substantive sense 
 as the elite, or, better perhaps, as an adjective in concord 
 with spirits. 
 
 346. Antony ! heg 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. 
 
 346. And this the hJeeding husiness. — Only a more vivid 
 expression for the bloody business, the sang-uinary act. 
 
 346. Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful. — Probably 
 the primary sense of the liatin pius and pietas may have 
 been nothing more than emotion, or affection, generally.
 
 232 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT HI. 
 
 But the words had come to be confined to tlie expression 
 of reverential affection towards a superior, such as the 
 gods or a parent. From pietas the Italian language has 
 received pieta (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 pitle we have borrowed, and appMed in the 
 same manner, oiu* piety and pity. To the former, more- 
 over, we have assigned the adjective pious ; to the latter, 
 piteous. But pity, which meant at one time reverence, 
 and afterwards compassion, has come in some of its uses 
 to suffer still further degradation. By pitiful (or fidl of 
 pity) Shakespeare, as we see here, means full of compas- 
 sion ; but the modern sense of pitiful is contemptible 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 different 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 individual, we mean that we despise or loathe him. 
 
 346. As fire drives out fire, so pity pity. — In this line 
 the first j^re is a dissyllable (like Jwur in 256), the second 
 a monosyllable. The illustration we have here is a fa- 
 vourite one with Shakespeare. " Tut, man," says Benvolio 
 to his friend Borneo (Borneo and Juliet, i. 2), 
 
 " one fire burns out another's burninp^, 
 
 One pain is lessened by anotlier's anguish. " 
 
 " One iire 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 Gentlemen of Verona : —
 
 .SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAE. 233 
 
 " 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 BastanVs exhortation to his uncle, in King John, 
 V. 1:— 
 
 "Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire ; 
 Threaten the threatener ; " etc. 
 
 346. For your part. — We should not now use this 
 phrase in the sense which it has here (in so far as regards 
 you). 
 
 346. Our arms, in strength of ivelcome. — The reading 
 in all the old printed copies is, " in strength of malice.''^ 
 Steevens interprets this, " strong in the deed of malice 
 they have just performed," and Malone accepts the ex- 
 planation 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 
 prmted "exempt from malice." Capel, more ingeniously, 
 proposed "no strength of malice," connecting the words, 
 not with those that follow, but with those that precede. 
 But the mention of malice at all is manifestly in the 
 highest degree unnatural. Nevertheless the word has 
 stood in every edition down to that in one volume pro- 
 duced by Mr Collier in 1853 ; and there, for the first 
 time, instead of " strength of malice^'' we have " strength 
 of loelcome.'''' 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 mistaken by the first printer 
 or editor for the other. The "welcome" would probably
 
 231 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTART. [aCT III. 
 
 be written loelcoe. Presuniiug the correction to have 
 been made on documentary authority, it is one of the most 
 valuable for which we are indebted to the old annotator. 
 Even as a mere conjecture, it wovdd be well entitled to 
 notice and consideration. 
 
 846. Of hrotJiers' temjjer. — Brothers, that is, to one 
 another (not to you, Antony). 
 
 348. 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 person whose mind is de- 
 ranged that he is not himself. 
 
 348. And then we will deliver you the cause. — The his- 
 tory 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 Uher, bark, or a book, and its 
 derivative delihrare, to peel off, with which we have at 
 present no concern), there are the adjective Itber, free 
 (to which Tiheri, children, no doubt belongs), and the 
 substantive I'lhra, signifying both a balance and the weight 
 which we call a pound or twelve ounces. Whether liber 
 and llhra'be connected maybe doubted. The Greek form 
 of libra, \iTpa, and the probable identity of liber with 
 iXevdEpoQ are rather against the supposition that they are. 
 At the same time, that which is free, whether understood 
 as meaning that which is free to move in any direction, 
 or that which hangs even and without being inclined 
 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 liberare, to make 
 free ; and from libra, a balance, or weight, lihrare, 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 therefore have taken its
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiES.VE. 235 
 
 origin), not from liherare and liber, but from lihrare 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 deliherare formed deliherer, having the same sig- 
 nification (to -weigh) ; but it has also from liher formed 
 another verb cUUvrer, 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. Thvis the deviation begun in the Latin deliherare 
 has been earned out and generalized, till the derivatives 
 from liher have assumed the form that would have been 
 more proper for those from libra, as the latter had pre- 
 viously usurped that belonging to the former. 
 
 It is from deliver, no doubt, that we have fabricated 
 our modern abbreviation clever. The ancient forms for 
 what we now call clever and cleverly Avere deliver and de- 
 liverly. Thus in Chaucer {Frol. to C. T. 84), the Knight's 
 son, the young Squire, is described as " wonderly deliver, 
 and grete of strengthe ;" and in the Nuns' Priest's Tale 
 of the Cock and the Fox (C. T. 15,422), we have— 
 
 " The Fox answered, In faith it shal be don : 
 And, as he spake the word, al sodeiily 
 The Cok brake from his mouth deliverly, 
 And high upon a tree he flew anon." 
 
 Deliver, rapidly pronounced, became dliver or dlever, and 
 that was inevitably converted into clever by the euphonic 
 genius of the language, in which such a combination as 
 dl cannot live.* 
 
 * According, indeed, to Dr "Webster, — who, however, gives no hint 
 of the above etymology, — clever would be actuallv only another way of 
 wi'iting tlever. One of his rules (the 23rd) for English pronunciation 
 is as follows: — "The letters cl, answering to kl, are pronounced as if 
 written tl : clear, clean are pronounced tlear, tlean. Gl are pronounced 
 as dl: glory is pronounced dlory." I transcribe this from the edition 
 of the " Dictionary of the English Language," in 2 vols. 4to, Lon. 1832, 
 professing to be " reprinted by E. H. Barker, Esq., of Thetford, Nor- 
 folk, from a copy communicated by the author, and containing many
 
 236 PHILOLOGICAL COilMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 Somewliat curious, too, are the variations of import 
 ttrougli whicli tlie word clever has passed, or among 
 which it still wanders. Johnson, after giving its modern 
 or common signification as " dexterous, skilful," and no- 
 ticing that Pope has used it in the sense of "just, fit," 
 and Arbuthnot in that of " well-shaped," concludes by 
 describing it as " a low word applied to anything a man 
 likes, without a settled meaning." "Webster, omitting 
 " well-shaped," gives the I^ew England sense, " good-na- 
 tured, amiable ;" and then adds : — " In some of the United 
 States, it is said, this word is applied to the intellect, de- 
 noting ingenious, knowing, discerning." This last, it 
 need scarcely be observed, is in fact nearly the modern 
 sense of the word in England. The American lexicogra- 
 pher erroneously supposes that its use in Great Britain 
 is distinguished from its use in America by its being in 
 the former country " applied to the body or its move- 
 ments." 
 
 348. When I struck Mm. — In the original prmted text 
 it is " strooke him." 
 
 349. 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, ! 'tis true,'" etc. 
 
 manuscript corrections and additions." The American lexicographer's 
 Bcnse of hearing would appear to have been peculiarly constituted. 
 Another thing that he tells us is, that, when ho was in England, he 
 paid particular attention to the practice of public speakers in regard to 
 the sound of the vowel u, and was happy to find that very few of them 
 made any distinction between the u in sueli words as cube or duke and 
 the u in rude or true. I do not know whether he means to say that 
 he found cube to be generally called cooh, or rude to be pronoimced as if 
 it were written ryude. Wliat is most surprising is that all this should 
 have been reproduced by an Englisli editor without either a word of 
 dissent or so much as a note of admiration.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C.ESAE. 237 
 
 349. Will I shake with you. — It is not to be supposed 
 that there was anything undignified in this phraseology 
 in Shakespeare's age. 
 
 349. Though last, not least. — So in King Lear, i. 1, 
 "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 supposed 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. 
 
 349. You must conceit me. — Vicl. 1*2. 
 
 349. Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death ? — 
 Of this use of dear we have several other instances in 
 Shakespeare. One of the most remarkable is in Hamlet, 
 i. 2, where Hamlet exclaims — 
 
 " Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven 
 Ere I had seen that day ! " 
 
 Home Tooke {Div. of Purley, 612, etc.) makes a plausi- 
 ble case in favour 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 pro- 
 perly that sort of injury which is done by the weather, 
 and that, a usual consequence of dearth being to make 
 the produce 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, how- 
 ever, against an explanation which has been generally 
 accepted, that there is no appearance of connexion betAveen 
 derian and the contemporary word answering to dear in
 
 238 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAEY. [aCT III. 
 
 the sense of liigh-priced, precious, beloved, wliicli is deore, 
 dure, or dijre, and is evidently from the same root, not with 
 derian, but with deoran, or di/ran, to hold dear, to love. 
 There is no doubt about the existence of an old English 
 verb dere, meaning to hurt, the unquestionable represent- 
 ative of the original derian: thus in Chaucer (C. T. 
 182-i) Theseus says to Palamon and Arcite, in the 
 Knight's Tale :— 
 
 "And ye sliul bothe anon unto me swere 
 That never mo ye shul my contree dere, 
 Ne maken Avcrre 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 supposing that 
 the notion properly involved in it of love, having first 
 become generalized into that of a strong aftection 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 in- 
 termediate sense in such instances as the following : — 
 
 " Some dear cause 
 Will in concealment wrap me up a while." — Lear, io. 3. 
 
 " A precious ring ; a ring that I must use 
 In dear employment." — Romeo and Juliet, v. 3. 
 
 And even when Hamlet speaks of his "dearest foe," or 
 when Celia remarks to Rosalind, in As You Like It, i. 3, 
 " My father hated his [Orlando's] father dearly^'' the 
 word need not be understood as implying more than 
 stroug or passionate emotion. 
 
 349. Here toast thou bayed. — So afterwards, in 498, 
 " "We are at the stake. And bayed about with many ene- 
 mies." It is not clear, however, in what sense the verb 
 to he hayed 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 plirased, at bay ? The hays in these 
 expressions appear to be all diiferent words. According 
 to liorue Tooke, to hay, mcauiug to enclose, undoubtedly
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS d:sAR. 239 
 
 the same with a hay of the sea, is from the ancient hygan, to 
 bend, and is essentially the same with both how anibouyJi. 
 This is also, of course, the hay which we have in hay- 
 window. — Div. of Purley, 4GJ^, 465. To hay, meaning to 
 bark, again, Tooke conceives to be the same element 
 which we have in the Greek /3oaw (to call aloud, to roar), 
 as well as in the Italian abhaiare and the French ahoyer, 
 and, understood as meaning to cry down, to Anlify, to re- 
 proach, to express abhorrence, aversion, and defiance, to 
 be the root of had (quasi hayed), of hane (hayeii), of the 
 verb to han, and of the French has and its English deriva- 
 tive hase. — Id. 357. — As for at hay, it is evidently the 
 French aux ahois, meaning in extremity, at the last gasp ; 
 and, whatever alois may be, it does not appear how it can 
 have anything to do with ahoyer, to bark. There are 
 also to be accounted for the hay, a name for the laurel, 
 and the colour called hay, applied to a horse, to salt, and 
 to woollen thread. A division of a house or other build- 
 ing was formerly called a hay ; as in Measure for Measure, 
 it. 1 : — " If this law hold in Vienna ten years, I'll rent the 
 fairest house in it after threepence a bay." For this, and 
 also Bay-tvindoic, see Nares. In Boucher (or rather in the 
 additions by his editors) -wiR be found the further mean- 
 ings of a boy, a stake, a berry, the act of baiting with dogs, 
 round, to bend, and to obey. Spenser uses to hay for to 
 hathe. In The Taming of the Shrew, v. 2, we have the 
 unusual form at a hay : — " 'Tis thought youi" deer does 
 hold you at a bay." 
 
 349. Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy death. 
 — Instead of 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 thiae), and 
 made crimson by being as it were bathed in thy shed 
 blood. But Steevens's note is entirely imsatisfactory : 
 " Lethe,'' he says, " is used by many of the old translators
 
 240 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT HI. 
 
 of novels for death ; " and then he gives as an example 
 the following sentence 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 letlie may plainly be taken in its proper and usual 
 sense of forgetfulness, oblivion. No other example is pro- 
 duced either by the commentators or by Nares. Shake- 
 speare, too, repeatedly uses letlie, and nowhere, unless it 
 be in this passage, in any other than its proper sense. If, 
 however, letlie and letlium (or letwni), — which may, or may 
 not, be connected, — were really sometimes confounded by 
 the popular writers of the early part of the seventeenth 
 century, they are kept in countenance by the commenta- 
 tors of the eighteenth. Steevens goes on to notice, as 
 affording another proof that letlie sometimes signified 
 death, the following line from GupiiVs Whirligig, 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 
 lethuni) ? 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 w^as 
 pronoimced 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 death, which was the 
 obvious conjecture of several of the editors of the last 
 century, and is sanctioned by the authority of his MS. 
 annotator. 
 
 319. Struclcen hy many princes. — It is stroken in the 
 original edition. — In the precediug line, also, " the heart
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CiESAE. 241 
 
 of thee "is there misprinted "the liai't of thee." But 
 the two words are repeatedly thus confounded in the 
 speDing in that edition. — Mr Collier strangely prefers 
 making this exclamation, " How like a deer," etc., an in- 
 terrogatory — as if Antony asked the dead body in how 
 far, or to wliat precise degree, it resembled a deer, lying 
 as it did stretched out before him. 
 
 351. The enemies of C(Esar 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. Vid. 181. A 
 singular consequence has arisen from the change that has 
 taken place. By " shall say this " in the present passage 
 Shakespeare meant no more than would now be expressed 
 by " loill say this ; " yet to us the shall elevates the ex- 
 pression beyond its original import, giving it something, 
 if not quite of a prophetic, yet of an impassioned, wrapt, 
 and as it were vision-seeing character. 
 
 352. JBut lohat compact. — Compact has always, I be- 
 lieve, the accent upon the final syllable in Shakespeare, 
 whether used as a substantive, as a verb, or as a parti- 
 ciple. 
 
 352. Will you he priched in numher of our friends ? — 
 To prich is to note or mark off". The Sheriffs 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. 
 
 353. Swayed from the point. — Borne away, as by a 
 wave, from the point which I had in view and for which 
 I was making. 
 
 353. Friends am I ivith you all. — " This grammatical 
 impropriety," Henley very well remarks, " is still so preva- 
 lent, as that the omission of the anomalous 5 would give 
 some uncouthness to the sound of an otherwise familiar 
 expression." "We could not, indeed, say " Friend am I
 
 212 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEKTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 witli yoii 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 o^ friends depend upon that oi you all: 
 " I am friends with you " is equally the phrase in ad- 
 dressing a single person. / ivitli you am is felt to be 
 equivalent to / and you are. 
 
 351. Our reasons are so full of good regard. — So full 
 of wliat is entitled to favourable regard. Compare " many 
 of the best respect " in 48. 
 
 354. That, ivere you, Antony, the son of Ccesar. — By 
 aU 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. 
 
 355. Produce his body to the marlcet-place. — AVe now 
 say " produce to " with a person only. 
 
 355. Speak in the order of his funeral. — In the order is 
 in the course of the ceremonial. — Compare "That Antony 
 speak in his funeral," in 357 ; and " Come I to speak in 
 Caesar's funeral," in 398. 
 
 357. The Aside here is not marked in the old copies. 
 
 358. By your pardon. — I wiU explain, by, or with, your 
 pardon, leave, permission. " By your leaA^e " is stiU oc- 
 casionally used. 
 
 358. Have all true rites. — This is the reading of all tlie 
 old copies. Por true Pope substituted due, which is also 
 the correction of Mr Collier's MS. annotator. 
 
 358. It shall advantage more than do us t(y)'ong. — This 
 old verb, to advantage, is fast slipping out of our posses- 
 sion. — Here again we have, according to the old grammar, 
 simple futurity indicated by shall v.ith the third person. 
 — Vid. 181. 
 
 359. I know not lohat may fall. — We now commonly 
 aay to fall out, rather than simply to fall, or to hefdl.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 213 
 
 360. You shall not in your funeral speech hlame us. — 
 The sense and tlie prosody concur in demanding an em- 
 phasis on MS. 
 
 360. And say you do 7. — We do not now in serious or 
 elevated writing use this kind of contraction. 
 
 362. The original stage direction after this speech is, 
 " Exeunt. Manet Antony." 
 
 363. pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth. — So in 
 all the early editions, and also in the greater number of 
 those of the last eentiuy ; hut unaccountably altered into 
 " thou piece of bleeding earth " in, the Variorum edition 
 of Malone and Boswell, the text of which was generally 
 taken as the standard for subsequent reprints, till the true 
 reading was restored by I\Ir Knight. 
 
 363. 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 answer- 
 ing to oiu' English time. Time, again, is the French terns, 
 or temps, a corruption of the Latin tempns (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 sti'angely corrupted, both in French and English, 
 into temple, — distinguished, however, in the former tongue 
 from temple, a church, by a difference of gender, and also 
 otherwise written tempe). 
 
 363. A curse shall light upon the loins of men. — This 
 is one of the most remarkable of the new readings 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 no- 
 thing more than the bodies or persons of men generally. 
 Steevens, however, says ; — " Antony means that a future 
 curse shall commence in distempers seizing on the limhs 
 
 B 2
 
 244 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTABT. [aCT III. 
 
 of men, and be succeeded by commotion, cruelty, and de- 
 solation over Italy." A strangely precise style of pro- 
 phecy ! Por Umbs Warburton proposed to substitute 
 line, Hanmer hind, and Johnson livies, — " unless," he 
 adds, " we read these lymmes of men, that is, these blood- 
 hounds of men." The lymm, lym, lime, limer, or lime- 
 Tiound was used in hunting the wild boar. The loins of 
 men means, of course, the generations of men. Even if 
 proposed as nothing more, this would have been one of 
 the most plausible of conjectures, and would probably 
 have at once commanded general acceptance. AVarburton 
 hit upon nearly what seems to have been the meaning of 
 Shakespeare with his line of men; but how much less 
 Shakespearian the expression ! 
 
 363. Quartered ivith the hands of war. — So afterwards, 
 in 426, " Here is himself, marred, as you see, with trait- 
 ors." Vid. 124. We should now rather regard the 
 hands as the agents, and say "Ziy the hands of war." 
 
 363. IVith Ate hy his side. — This Homeric goddess 
 had taken a strong hold of Shakespeare's imagination. 
 In Much Ado ahoid Nothiny, ii. 1, Benedick, inveighing 
 to Don Pedro against the Lady Beatrice, says, "Tou 
 shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel." In King 
 John, iv. 1, John's mother, Queen Elinor, is described by 
 Chatillon as " an Ate stirring him to blood and strife." 
 And in Love's Laioi/r^sLost, v. 2, Biron, at the representa- 
 tion of the Nine AVorthies, calls out " More Ates, more 
 Ates ; stir them on! stir them on!" Where did Shake- 
 speare get acquainted with this divinity, whose name does 
 not occur, I believe, even in any Latin author ? 
 
 363. Cry Havoc ! — Havoc is the Original English hafoc, 
 meaning waste, destruction ; whence the hatvJc, so called 
 as the bird of waste and ravage. Johnson states on the 
 authority of a learned correspondent (known to be Sir 
 AVilliam Blackstone), that, "in the military operations of 
 old times, havoc was the word by which declaration was
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^ESAK. 2-45 
 
 made that no quarter sliould be given." Milton in one 
 place makes a verb of this substantive : — " To waste and 
 bavoc yonder world" {Par. Lost, x. 617). 
 
 363. Let slip the dogs of war. — K'otwitbstanding the 
 apparently considerable difierence between scldupfcn and 
 schlafen, by which they are severally represented in 
 modern German, slip may possibly have been originally 
 the same word with sleep. In the English of the time be- 
 fore the Conquest, although the common form is slcepan 
 for to sleep and slipan for to slip, Ave 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 v\'hich lets go, or from which we let 
 go, being also necessarily that which has previously de- 
 tained, 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 teniu-e), that being really the 
 principal or most important oiSce 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 (now 
 nearly obsolete) of to hinder, as well as its more ordinary 
 sense of to permit. 
 
 It is observed by Steele in TJ/e Tatler, No. 137, that 
 by " the dogs of war " Shakespeare probably meant Jire, 
 sword, and /awiwe, according to what is said in the Chorus 
 to Act First of King ILenry the Fifth : — 
 
 " Then should the warlike Harrj', like himself, 
 Assume the port of Mars ; and, at his heels, 
 Leashed in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire 
 Crouch for employment."
 
 246 PHILOLOGICAL COilMENTAST. [aCT HI. 
 
 To this -we miglit add what TalLot says, in the First Part 
 of King Senry tlie Sixth, iv. 2, to the Captains of the 
 French forces before Bordeaux : — 
 
 " You tempt the fury of my three attendants, 
 Lean Famine, quartering Steel, and climbing Fire." 
 
 In illustration of the passage from Henry the Fifth Stee- 
 vens 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, Pu-e, and Famine." And at that from Henry 
 the Sixth Mai one gives the following extract from Hall's 
 Chronicle : — " The Goddess of War, called Bellona, . . . 
 hath these three handmaids 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 snfScient to torment and afflict a proud 
 prince ; and they all joined together are of puissance to 
 destroy the most popidous country and most richest 
 region of the world." 
 
 It might, perhaps, be questioned whether the words, 
 " And let slip the dogs of war " ought not to be con- 
 sidered as also part of the exclamation of Caesar's spirit. 
 
 363. That this foul deed, etc.— So that. 
 
 363. TVi/Ji carrion men. — Fid. 177. — The stage direc- 
 tion iu the original edition is '^ Enter Ocfavio's Ser- 
 vaiit.^' 
 
 368. You serve Ocfavius Ccesar. — So called throughout 
 both this Play and that of Antony and Cleopatra. He was 
 properly now Ccesar Octavianus. 
 
 366. The stage direction, Seeing the Body, is modern. 
 
 367. 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." 
 
 SGD, Tell him what hath chanced.— Vld. 69.
 
 sc. 2.] jrLius ciESAE. 21-7 
 
 369. M Borne of safdy.— Vid. 56. 
 
 369. Till I have borne this corpse. — Corpse (or corse) 
 here is a modern conjectural substitution for the course 
 of the First and Second Folios and the coarse of the Third 
 and Fom'th. 
 
 369. TJie cruel issue of these lloodij men. — The result or 
 end which they have brought about. 
 
 369. According to the which. — This archaism occurs 
 occasionally in Shakespeare, as it does also in the common 
 translation of the Scriptures : — " Every tree in the which 
 is tlie fruit of a tree yielding seed" {Gen. i. 29). 
 
 369. Lend me your hand. — "We should now rather say 
 a hand. — The stage direction that follows is in the ori- 
 ginal edition, " Exeunt. Enter Brutus and goes into the 
 Pulpit, and Cassias with the Plebeians.''^ 
 
 SCENE II.— The same. The Forum. 
 
 Enter Buutus a7ul Cassius, and a throng of Citizexs. 
 
 370. at. "We will be satisfied ; let us be satisfied. 
 
 371. Brit. Then follow me, and give me audience, frieuds. — 
 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 C;tv;ar's death. 
 1 at. I will hear Brutus speak. 
 
 373. 2 at. I will hear Cassius ; and compare their reasons, 
 "When severally we hear them rendered. 
 
 \_Exit Cassius, loith some of the Citizens. 
 Brutus goes into the Rostrmn. 
 
 374. 3 at. The noble Brutus is ascended : Silence ! 
 
 375. Bru. Be patient till the last. 
 
 Komans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause ; and be 
 silent, that you may hear : believe me for mine honour ; and have 
 respect to mine honour, 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 Caesar's, to him 
 I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then,
 
 248 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENXAET. [aCT III. 
 
 that fricnJ demand, why Brutiis rose against Ciiesar, this is my an- 
 swer; — Not that I loved Ca3sar less, but that I loved Rome more. 
 Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that 
 Csesar 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 
 honour him : hut, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears, 
 for his love; joy, for his fortune; honour, for his valour; and 
 death, for his ambition. "Wlio is here so base, that would be a bond- 
 man? If any, speak; for him have I offended. "Wlio 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. 
 
 376. at. None, Brutus, none. [^Several speaking at once. 
 
 377. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to 
 Ceesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is 
 enrolled in the Capitol : his glory not extenuated, wherein he was 
 worthy ; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. 
 
 Enter Antony and others, with Cesar's Bodt/. 
 Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he 
 had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his djdng, a 
 place in the commonwealth ; as which of you shall not ? With this T 
 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 ! live ! 
 
 1 at. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. 
 
 2 Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors. 
 
 3 at. Let him be Cajsar. 
 382. 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. 
 1 Cit. Peace, ho ! 
 
 387. Bru. Good countrymen, let me depart alone. 
 And, for my sake, stay hei'o vrith Antony : 
 Do grace to Ciesar's corpse, and grace his speech 
 Tending to Cajsar'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. 
 
 1 Cit. Stay, ho ! and »et us hear Mark Antony.
 
 SC. 2.] JULICS CMS\Tl. 249 
 
 3 at. Let him go up into the public chair ; 
 "We'll hear him : — Noble Antony, go up. 
 
 390. Ant. For Brutus' sake, I am beholden to you. 
 
 4 Cit. What does he say of Brutus ? 
 
 3 Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake. 
 He finds himself beholden to us sU. 
 
 4 Cit. 'TTi"ere best he speak no harm of Brutiis here. 
 
 1 Cit. This Ca3sar was a tyi-ant. 
 395. 3 Cit. Nay, that's certain : 
 
 We are blest that Rome is rid of him. 
 
 2 Cit. Peace, let us hear what Antony cau say. 
 Ant. You gentle Eomans, 
 
 Cit. Peace, ho ! let us hear him. 
 399. Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears , 
 I come to bury Csesar, not to praise him. 
 The evil that men do lives after them ; 
 The good is oft interred with theii- bones : 
 So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus 
 Hath told you, Coesar was ambitious : 
 If it were so, it was a grievous fault ; 
 And grievously hath CiBsar answered it. 
 Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest 
 (For Brutus is an honourable man ; 
 So are they all, all honourable men). 
 Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. 
 He was my fi-iend, faithful and just to me : 
 But Brutus saj's, he was ambitious ; 
 And Brutus is an honoui-able man. 
 He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 
 "Wliose ransoms did the general coffers fill : 
 Did this in Cssar seem ambitious } 
 "When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept : 
 Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. 
 Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 
 And Brutus is an honourable man. 
 You all did see, that on the Lupercal 
 I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 
 TVTiich he did thrice refuse. "Was this ambition ? 
 Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 
 And, sure, he is an honourable man. 
 I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 
 But here I am to speak what I do know. 
 'JYou all did love him once, not without catise. ;
 
 250 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTAET. [ACT III. 
 
 "WTiat cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him ? 
 
 judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts. 
 And men have lost their reason ! — Bear with me ; 
 ]\Iy heart is in the coffin there \vith Ca3sar, 
 
 And I must pause till it come back to me. 
 
 1 at. Methinks, there is much reason in his sayings. 
 
 2 at. If thou consider rightly of the matter, 
 Caesar has had great wrong. 
 
 3 at. Has he not, master ? 
 
 1 fear, there will a worse come in his place. 
 
 403. 4 at. Marked ye his words ? He would not take the crown ; 
 Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious. 
 
 404. 1 at. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 
 
 2 Cit. Poor soul ! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 
 
 3 Cit. There's not a nobler man in Eome than Antony. 
 
 4 Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. 
 408. Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cresar might 
 
 Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
 
 And none so poor to do him reverence. 
 
 Oh masters ! if I were disposed to stir 
 
 Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, 
 
 I shoidd do Brutus wrong, and Cassius -wrong. 
 
 Who, you all know, are honourable men : 
 
 I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose 
 
 To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, 
 
 Than I will wrong such honourable men. 
 
 But here's a parchment, with the seal of Ctesar; 
 
 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 Ca3sar'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, 
 
 Bequeatliing it, as a rich legacy. 
 
 Unto their issue. 
 
 4 at. We'll hoar the will: Road it, ISIark Antony. 
 
 Cit. The will, the will : we will hear Ctesar's will. 
 
 Ant. Have patience, geiitle friends ; I must not read it ; 
 It is not meet you know how Cicsar loved you. 
 You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ; 
 And, being men, hearing the will of Citisar, 
 It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
 
 sc. 2.] jrLiTs ciiSAE. 251 
 
 'Tis good you know not that you are his hrirs ; 
 For if you should, 0, what would come of it ! 
 
 412. 4 at. Eead the will; we will hear it, Antony; you shall read 
 us the will ; Caesar's will. 
 
 413. Ant. "Will you he patient .' Will you stay a while ? 
 I have overshot myself, to tell you of it. 
 
 I fear, I wi-ong the honourable men, 
 
 "WTiose daggers have stabbed Caesar : I do fear it. 
 
 4 at. They were traitors : Honourable men ! 
 
 at. The will! the testament ! 
 
 2 at. They were villains, murderers : The will, read the will ! 
 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 .^ 
 at. Come down. 
 419. 2 Cit. Descend. [He comes dozen from the pnlpt't. 
 
 3 at. You shall have leave. 
 
 4 at. A ring ; stand round. 
 
 422. 1 at. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body. 
 
 2 at. Room for Antony ; — most noble Antony. 
 
 A)it. Nay, press not so upon me ; stand far off. 
 
 at. Stand back ! room ! bear back ! 
 426. A7it. 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 
 If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ; 
 For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel : 
 Judge, you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him ! 
 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,
 
 252 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAKT. [aCT III. 
 
 Whicli all the while ran blood, great Coesar fell. 
 0, what a fall was there, my countrpuen ! 
 Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, 
 Whilst bloody treason flomished over us. 
 0, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel 
 The dint of pity : these are gracious di'ops. 
 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 at. piteous spectacle ! 
 
 2 Cit. noble Caesar! 
 
 3 at. woeful day ! 
 
 4 Cit. traitors, villains ! 
 
 1 at. most bloody sight ! 
 
 2 Cit. We will be revenged; revenge; about, — seek, — bum, — 
 fire, — kill, — slay ! — let uot a traitor live. 
 
 433. Ant. Stay, countrymen. 
 
 1 at. Peace there: — Hear the noble Antony. 
 
 2 at. We'll hear him, we'll follow liim, we'll die with him. 
 436. 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 honourable ; 
 
 What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, 
 
 That made them do it ; they are wise and honom'able, 
 
 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, 
 
 Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 
 
 To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ; 
 
 I tell you that which you youi-selves do know ; 
 
 Show you sweet Ctcsar'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 Ciesar, that should move 
 
 The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. 
 
 at. We'll mutiny. 
 
 1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus. 
 
 3 Cit. Away, then, come, seek the couspii-ators.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CJ^SAR. 253 
 
 Atzf. Yet hear mc, countrjincn ; yet hear me speak. 
 
 at. Peace, ho ! Ilear Antony, most noble Antony. 
 
 Ant. "WTiy, friends, you go to do you know not what: 
 WTierein hath Ca'sar thus deserved your loves } 
 Alas, you know not : — I must tell you, then : — 
 You have forgot the will I told you of. 
 
 at. Most true ; — the will; — let's stay, and hear the will. 
 444. Ant. Here is the will, and under Cxsar's seal. 
 To every Eoman citizen he gives. 
 To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. 
 
 2 at. Most noble Cajsar ! — we'll revenge his death. 
 
 3 at. royal Cajsar ! 
 
 Aiit, near me with patience. 
 at. Peace, ho ! 
 
 449. Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, 
 His private arbom-s, and new-planted orchards, 
 On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you, 
 
 And to your heirs for ever ; common pleasures, 
 
 To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. 
 
 Here was a Ctesar : When comes such another ? 
 
 450. 1 at. Never, never ! — Come, away, away ! 
 "We'll burn his body in the holy place, 
 
 And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. 
 Take up the body. 
 
 2 at. Go, fetch fire. 
 
 3 at. Pluck down benches. 
 
 4 at. Pluck down forms, windows, anything. 
 
 [Exemit CmzElflS, tcith the body. 
 454. Ant. Now let it work: Mischief, thou art afoot, 
 Take thou what course thou wilt ! — How now, fellow ? 
 
 Enter a Sekvant. 
 
 Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Eome. 
 
 A nt. "WTiere is he ? 
 
 Serv. He and Lepidus are at Cit^sar's house. 
 
 458. Ant. And thither will I straight to visit him. 
 He comes upon a Avish. Fortune is merry, 
 And in this mood will give us anything. 
 
 459. Serv. I heard them say, Brutus and Casfius 
 Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome. 
 
 460. Ant. Belike they had some notice of the people, 
 
 How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. [Exeunt.
 
 23 i PHILOLOGICAL COililENTAST. [aCT IH 
 
 370. For Cit. here the original edition has Pie. ; and 
 afterwards for 1 Cit., 2 Cit., 3 Cit., it has 1 Pie., 2, 3 : 
 and for Cit. at 876, etc., it has All. 
 
 371. And part the numbers. — Divide the multitude. 
 371. And public reasons shall be rendered. — To render 
 
 is to give back or in retiu'n for. Thus in 3-19, as we have 
 seen, Antony asks Brutus and his confederates to render 
 him their hands in return for his own. Here the act 
 which had been done, the slaughter 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 observ^ed that in the Pirst 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 still doubtful whether the word was intended to be 
 represented as of two or of three syllables. It is the same 
 in 373. 
 
 373. JExit Cassius, etc. Prutus goes into the Rostrum. 
 — This stage direction is all modern. The Rostrum is the 
 same that is called " the public chair" in 389, and " the 
 pulpit" elsewhere: Vid. 318, 320, 355, 358, 360. Bos- 
 trum is not a word which Shalcespeare anywhere uses. 
 Nor, indeed, is it a legitimate formation. It ought to be 
 Rostra, in the plural, as it always is in Latin. Neverthe- 
 less few persons in their senses Avill be inclined to go 
 with Dr Webster for the immediate origin of Rostrum, 
 in any of its English applications, to the AVelsh rhelgyr, 
 a snout, or rhethern, a pilce. 
 
 374. The noble Prutus is ascended. — In this form of 
 expression it is plain that Ave use the verb to ascend in 
 quite a different sense from that which it has when we 
 say " Brutus has ascended tlie pulpit." According to the 
 one form, it is Pru1u.<t that is a.^cended ; according to 
 the other, it is the pulpit that is ascended. In point ot 
 fact, if to ascend be taken in its proper sense of to mount
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CTSAR. 255 
 
 or climb up, it is oiily the pulpit that can be ascended ; 
 in saying that Brutus is ascended we employ the verb 
 as if its meaning were to lift, carry, or bear up. Clear, 
 however, as is the ^dolation of principle, the right of 
 perpetrating it must be held to be one of the estab- 
 lished liberties of the language. Even still we commonly 
 say is come, is become, is gone, is arrived, is Jled, is escaped, 
 etc. In the freer condition of the language formerly 
 such a mode of expression was carried a good deal farther. 
 Thus, in the present Play, we have in 829 " [Antony is] 
 lied to his house amazed;" in 399, " judgment ! thou 
 art fled to brutish beasts ;" in 459, " Brutus and Cassius 
 Are rid like madmen through the gates of Home;" in 
 510, "Hark, he is arrived;" in 624, "The deep of night 
 is crept upon om' talk ;" in 704, " This morning are they 
 fled away and gone ;" in 722, " Time is come round ;" and 
 " My life is run his compass." This last instance carries 
 the irregularity to its height ; for here the verb to run is 
 actually tised at the same time in two senses ; both in 
 the sense in which we say "to riin a ship on a rock," or 
 " to run a naU into a door" (that is, to make move 
 rapidly), and also in that in which we say " to run a 
 race" (that is, to move rapidly through or over). In the 
 first sense only can Cassius say that his life is run ; in 
 the second alone can he speak of it as running his— that 
 is, its {Vid. 54) — compass. In the one case it is the 
 thing moved that is run (the same as when Ave talk of 
 running a thread through a cloth or a rope over a pulley, 
 or of running a metal, or riuming ofi" wine) ; in the other 
 case, what is said to be run is the act or process through 
 which the movement is made (the same as when we talk 
 of running a risk, or running the gauntlet, or running a 
 muck). This latter sense is not to be confounded with 
 that which we have in "to run a mile ;" there the verb 
 is intransitive, and the noun expresses only the extent, 
 or as it were manner, of the verbal action, and is no
 
 25G PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAKY. [aCT III. 
 
 more governed by the verb tban it is in tlie pbrase " to 
 live a year," or than the qualifying adverb is so governed 
 in the phrase " to run fast." If Cassius had said that his 
 life was run its compass halfway, we should have had a 
 combination of all the three senses. 
 
 The following are examples of this form of construction 
 from other plays : — 
 
 " Is our whole dissembly appeared ? " 
 
 [Dogberry, in Much Ado about Koth., iv. 2) ; 
 " Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away." 
 
 Sexton, Ibid.) ; 
 " His lordship is walked forth into the orchard." 
 
 {Porter, in Second Part of Henry IV., i. 1) ; 
 
 " He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black, 
 And, now I am remembered, scorned at me." 
 
 {Phebe, in As You Like It, Hi. 5) ; 
 
 " You being then, if you be remembered, cracking the stones." 
 [Cloicn, in Meas.for Meas. ii. 1) ; 
 " I telling you then, if you be remembered." — [Ibid.) ; 
 
 " But, if you be remembered, 
 " I did not bid you mar it to the time." 
 
 [Petrucio, in Tarn, of Shreio, iv. 3) ; 
 
 " If your majesty is remembered of it." 
 
 [Fluellen, in Henry V., iv. 7) ; 
 " Now, by my troth, if I had been remembered, 
 I could have given my uncle's grace a ilout." 
 
 [Yo7-k, in Rich. III., ii. 4) ; 
 " Be you remembered, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled." 
 
 [Titus, in Titus Andronicits, iv. 3). 
 
 375. Romans, eoimtrymen, and lovers. — Vicl. 2G0. 
 
 375. Have respect to onine honour. — That is, merely, 
 look to (not look up to). We, still emplT)y such words 
 as respect and regard in difterent senses according to cir- 
 cumstances. I look with regard, or with respect, upon this 
 man, or upon tliat institution. With regard, or with re- 
 spect, to another man or institution I have notliing to say 
 but what is condemnatory, or notliing to say at aU.
 
 sc. 2.] JULIUS CjESAe. 257 
 
 375. Censure me. — That is, merely, pass judgment 
 upon me. Vid. 329. 
 
 375. Any dear friend of Ccssar's, to Mm I say. — It is 
 "to them I say" in the second Folio. 
 
 375. Not that I loved Ccesar less. — Less than he (tlie 
 " dear friend ") loved Caesar. 
 
 375. But that I loved Rome 7nore. — More than he (tlie 
 " dear friend of Caesar") loved Eome. 
 
 375. Had you rather. — Vid. note on Sad as lief in 54. 
 
 375. To live all freemen. — It is commonly printed 
 "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 con- 
 tained in slaves ; for which, indeed, we might have had 
 hondmen, 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." 
 
 375. There is tears, etc. — In many modern editions 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." 
 
 376. The stage direction is modern. 
 
 377. 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 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 Tlie Merchant of Venice, iv. 1, " I 
 pray you, think you question with the Jew." But in 
 that passage the meaning of the word is merely the ordin- 
 ary 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
 
 258 PniLOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III 
 
 little or nothiBg of tlie notion of a doubt or dispute : — • 
 " Thou sbalt accompany us to the place, where we will, 
 not appearing what we are, have some question with the 
 shepherd;" Winter^ s Tale,iv. 1. 
 
 1377. Nor Ms offences enforced. — Dwelt upon and 
 pressed, or more than simply stated. In the same sense 
 in Coriolaniis, ii. 3, the tribune Sicinius exhorts the 
 populace touching Marcius : — " Enforce his pride. And 
 his old hate unto you." 
 
 377. As which of yon, shall not ? — "VVe find tvhich in our 
 oldest English in the forms hioilc, hwylc, and hwelc — 
 forms which have been supposed to arise out of the com- 
 bination of the relative hioa with lie (like), the annexa- 
 tion being designed to give greater generalization or in- 
 definiteness 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 lohiJlc, or qiiliilk, 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-honoured formula " Our Father tvhich art in hea- 
 ven"), and still is both whenever it is interrogative and 
 likewise when the antecedent to which it is relative is 
 either 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., tvhich king it was in whose reign — or, 
 in the reign of tvhich king it was — that the French Eevo- 
 lution broke out." — It is one of the many curiosities of 
 Dr Webster's Eiujlish Dictionary that he refuses to admit 
 which to liave anytliing to do with tlie ancient hwilc, and 
 suggests that it may be rather the same word with quick ! 
 
 The stage direction in the original edition is, " Enter 
 Mark Antony, ivith Ccesar's body." 
 
 377. My best lover.— Vid. 2G0.
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS dSAE. 259 
 
 382. Shall now he crowned in Brutus. — The now is not 
 in the old texts, but was supplied by Pope, and has been 
 retained by Malone and Boswell, as well as by Steevens. 
 It may not be the true word, but that some word is 
 wanting is certain. The dialogue here is evidently in- 
 tended to be metrical, and " Shall be crowned in Brutus" 
 is not a possible commencement of a verse. Mr CoUier 
 also in his regulated text retains the now, although it does 
 not appear to have the sanction of his MS. annotator. 
 
 387. Do grace to C'cesar's corpse. — We have lost this 
 idiom, though we still say " to do honour to." 
 
 390. / am heliolden to you. — Both here and also in 
 392 the first three Folios have all heliolding, 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. Tet leholding 
 is, I believe, always Bacon's word ; as in his Tenth Essay : 
 — " The stage is more beholding to love than the life of 
 man." Even in Clarendon, reporting the words of Queen 
 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 heliolding'" (ITist., Book a-iii.). 
 The initial syllable of the word is of more interest than 
 its termination. 
 
 The complete disappearance from the modern form of 
 the English language of the verbal prefix ge is a remark- 
 able fact, and one wliicli has not attracted the notice 
 which it deserves. This augment may be said to haA-e 
 been the favourite and most distinguishing pecuKarity of 
 the language in the period preceding the IS^orman Con- 
 quest. In the inflection of the verb it was not merely, 
 as in modern German, the sign of the past participle 
 6 2
 
 200 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT III. 
 
 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 inflexional, 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 fourteentli centuiy) 
 is reckoned the commencement of the period of what is 
 denominated Middle English ; there are none even in 
 E/obert de Brunne, and very few, if any, in Robert of 
 Grloucester, who belong to the thirteenth century, or to 
 the age of what is commonly designated Early English. 
 The inflexional ge is foimd at a comparatively late date 
 only in the reduced or softened form of y, and even so 
 scarcely after the middle of the sixteenth century (which 
 may be taken as the date of the commencement 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 Thomson, who in the last century has 
 sprinkled his Castle of Indolence with words of this de- 
 scription the better to keep up his imitation of Spenser. 
 As for the "star-yjiointing pyramid " attributed to Milton 
 (in his lines on Shakespeare), it is in all probability a 
 mistake of his modern editors : " ypointeJ " might have 
 been credible, but "ypointiwy" scarcely is. The true 
 reading probably is " starry-pointing." It has commonly 
 been assumed that, with such rare and insignificant ex- 
 ceptions (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 off", 
 like a decayed member, without anything being substi- 
 tuted in its place. 13ut the fact is not so. It is certain,
 
 sc. 2.] JULirs c^SAR. 2G1 
 
 that, both in its inflexional and in its non-inflexional 
 character, it still exists in a good many words in a dis- 
 guised form, — in that namely of he. Many of our words 
 beginning with he cannot be otherwise accounted for. 
 Our modern heloved, for example, is undoubtedly the 
 ancient gelitfed. Another remarkable instance is that of 
 the familiar word helief or helieve. The Original English 
 has no such verb as heJyfan ; its fonn for our helieve is 
 gelyfan (the same with the modern German glaulen). 
 Again, to hecome (at least in the sense of to suit) is the 
 Original English geciceman : there is no hecweman. Be- 
 come, in this sense, it ought to be noticed, has apparently 
 no connexion with to come (from coman, or ciiman) ; we 
 have its root cicemaii in the old English to quern, meaning 
 to please, used by Chaucer. And the German also, like 
 our modern English, has in this instance lost or re- 
 jected botb the simple form and the ge- form, retaining, or 
 substituting, only hequem and heg_uemen. Nor is there 
 any helang or helong ; our modern helong is fi'om the 
 ancient gelang. In like manner there is no such Original 
 English verb as hesecan ; there is only gesecan, from which 
 we have formed our heseeh and heseech. So tacn, or tacen, 
 is a token, from which is getacn'ian, to denote by a token 
 or sign; there is no hetaonian ; yet we say to hetoJcen. 
 And there are probably other examples of the same thing 
 among the words now in use having he for the commenc- 
 ing syllable (of which the common dictionaries give us 
 about a couple of hundreds), although the generality of 
 them are only modern fabrications constructed in imita- 
 tion of one another, and upon no other principle than the as- 
 sumption that the syllable in question may be prefixed to 
 almost any verb whatever. Such are hepraise, hepoioder, 
 bespatter, hetliump, and many more. Only between thirty 
 and forty seem to be traceable to Original English verbs 
 beginning with he.
 
 2G2 PHILOLOaiCAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 The facts that have been mentioned sufficiently explain 
 the word heliolden. It has nothing to do with the modern 
 hehold, or the ancient heliealdan (which, like its modem 
 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 lield, bound, olliged. It cor- 
 responds to the modern German gehalten, of the same 
 signification, and is quite distinct from lehalten, the past 
 participle passive of the verb hehalten, which signifies 
 kept, preserved. 
 
 Oue word, which rej)eatedly occurs in Shakespeare, con- 
 taining the prefix ge, has been generally misunderstood 
 by his editors. What they all, I believe without ex- 
 ception, print I wis, or / wiss, as if it were a verb with 
 its nominative, is undoubtedly one Avord, and that an 
 adverb, signifying certainly, probably. It ought to be 
 written ywis, or ywiss, corresponding as it does exactly 
 to the modern German getciss. It is true, indeed, that 
 Sir IVederic Madden in the Glossary to his' edition of 
 Sgr Gawayne (printed, for the Eoxburgh Club, in 1839) 
 expresses a doubt whether it were " not regarded as a 
 pronoun and verb by the Avriters of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury." But this supposition Dr Guest {Phil. Proc. II. 
 160) regards as wholly gratuitous. He believes there is 
 not a single instance to be found in which loiss, 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 ivis as a verb, meaning 
 to tliiuk, to imagine. "Webster does tlie same. So also 
 Nares in his Glossary. It is the only explanation which 
 any of these authorities give of the form in question. 
 " The preterite," adds Nares, " is toist. The present 
 tense is seldom found but iu the first person ; the pre-
 
 SC. 2.] JTJLIUS C.DSAR. 2G3 
 
 terite was common in all the persons." In a note on 
 the passage in The Merchant of Venice, it. 9, " There be 
 fools, alive, / tois [as thej all print it], Silvered o'er," 
 Steevens writes (Vario7'um edition, V. 71) : — '' Itvis, I 
 know. Wissen, German. So in Jviiir/ Henry the Sixth : 
 ' I wis your grandam had no worser match.' Again, in 
 the Comedy of King Cambyses : ' Tea, I wis, shall you, 
 and that with all speed.' Sydney, Ascham, and Waller 
 use the word." The line here quoted from Shakespeare 
 is not in Jun^ Henri/ the Sixth, but in Richard the Third, 
 i. 3, and rims, " I wis [_Ywis'} your grandam had a worser 
 match." So in the Taming of the Shrew, i. 1, " Ywis, it is 
 not halfway to her heart." Chaucer, though his adverb 
 is commonly ywis, has at least in one instance simply 
 icis : — 
 
 " Xay, nay, quod she, God help me so, as wis 
 This is to much, and it were Goddcs wil." 
 
 C. T. 11,781. 
 The syllable wis is no doubt the same element that we 
 have both in the German tt-me/t and in our English guess. 
 
 395. We are blest that Rome is rid of him. — The Se- 
 cond Folio has " We aveglad." But Mr Collier in his one 
 volume restores blest, although it does not appear to be 
 one of the corrections of his MS. annotator. 
 
 399. Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest. — Com- 
 pare "By your pardon" of 358. 
 
 399. When that the poor have cried. — The that in such 
 cases as this is merely a summary or compendious expres- 
 sion of what folloAvs, which was convenient, perhaps, in a 
 ruder condition of the language, as more distinctly mark- 
 ing out the clause to be comprehended under the when. 
 We still commonly use it with now, when it serves to dis- 
 criminate the conjunction from the adverb, although not 
 >vith other conjunctions which are never adverbs. Chau- 
 cer often introduces with a that even the clause that fol- 
 lows a relative pronoun ; as (C. T. 982) : — " The IMinotaur
 
 2G4 PKILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 wliicli that he slew in Crete;" or (C. T. 988) "With 
 Creon, Avhich that was of Thebes king." 
 
 399. You all did see, that on the Liipercal. — Vid. 17. 
 
 399. What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him ? 
 "We should now say, " Withholds you from mourning." 
 We could not use loithhold followed by the infinitive. 
 
 403. Has he not, masters? — The common reading is 
 "Has he, masters ?" The prosody clearly demands the 
 insertion of some monosyllable ; Capell accordingly in- 
 serted my before masters ; but the word required by the 
 sense and the connexion evidently is not. The correction, 
 though conjectural, is therefore one which may be re- 
 garded as of nearly absolute necessity and certainty. — 
 Masters was the common term of address to a miscellane- 
 ous assembly formerly. So again in 408 ; where, however, 
 the word is Maisters in both the First and Second Folios, 
 although not usually so elsewhere. 
 
 404. Some ivill dear abide it. — P^id. 327. 
 
 408. And none so poor to do him reverence. — The 
 omission of one of two correlative words (such as the as 
 answeriug to the so here) is, when no ambiguity is there- 
 by occasioned, allowable in almost all circumstances. — 
 The manner in which the clause is himg on to Avhat pre- 
 cedes by the conjunction is such as to preclude the ne- 
 cessity of a new copula or affii'mative term. It is as if it 
 were " with none so poor," etc. And and is logically 
 (whatever it may be etymologically) equivalent to with. 
 So in 164, " Yes every man of them ; and no man here 
 But honours you." 
 
 408. Let hut the commons hear this testament. — The 
 commonalty, the common people. 
 
 408. And dip their napkins in his sacred Hood. — A 
 napkin (connected with napery, from the rrench nappe, a 
 cloth, which, again, appears to be a corruption of the 
 Latin mappa, of the same signification, the original also
 
 SC. 2.] - JULIUS CiESAR. 265 
 
 of OUT map, and of the mappe of tlie Frencli mappemonde, 
 that is mappa mundi) is still the common name for a 
 pocket handkerchief in Scotland. It is also that com- 
 monly employed' by Shakespeare ; See the Third Act of 
 Othello, and the Fourth Act of As you Like It. — Com- 
 pare 247. 
 
 412. Read the tvill; etc. — This and most of the subse- 
 quent exclamations of the populace need not be considered 
 as verse. 
 
 413. I have overshot myself, to tell you of it. — That is, I 
 have overshot myself (done more than I had intended) 
 by telling you of it. 
 
 419. He comes down, etc. — This stage direction is not 
 in the older copies. 
 
 422. 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 harrow; whence the 
 English term seems to have been applied to whatever was 
 constructed of bars or beams laid crosswise. 
 
 42G. That day he overcame the JVervii. — These words 
 certainly ouglit not to be made a direct statement, as they 
 are by the pimctuation of the Variorum and of most 
 other modern editions, though not by that of Mr Collier's 
 regulated text. 
 
 426. As rushing out of doors, to he resolced. — Vid. 339. 
 
 426. This teas the onost unJcindest cut of all. — Vid. 337. 
 
 426. For Brutus, as you know, teas Ccesar's angel. — I 
 cannot think that the meaning can be, as Boswell sug- 
 gests, his guardian angel. It is much more natural to 
 Tinderstand it as being simply his best beloved, his darling. 
 
 426. For lohen the oxohle Ccesar saw him stab. — The him 
 is here strongly emphatic, notwithstanding its occupation 
 of one of the places assigned by the common rule to short 
 or unaccented syllables. Vid. 436. 
 
 426. Fven at the base of Fompey^s statue. — Vid. 246. 
 The measure, Malone remarks, will be defective (unless
 
 2G6 PHILOLOGICAL COMilElSTTAHY. [aCT III. 
 
 we read statiia) if even be a monosyllable, -wliicli be says it 
 usually is in Shakespeare. He thinks that it would be all 
 right with the prosody if even could be taken as a dis- 
 syllable ! 
 
 426. Which all tlie wliile ran hlood. — This is almost in 
 the words of JN^orth's Plutarch : — " Against the very base 
 whereon Pompey's statue stood, which ran aU a gore of 
 blood." Gore is an Original English word meaning any- 
 thing muddy, possibly connected "with the German yaAre??, 
 to ferment, and other German words. 
 
 426. WMht hloody treason flourished over us. — Surelj 
 this can mean nothing more than that treason triumphed, 
 — put forth, as it were, its flowers, — shot up into vigorous 
 efflorescence, — over us. Yet the only interpretation the 
 Variorum commentators supply is that of Steevens, who 
 says that flourishes means flourishes its sword, and quotes 
 from Borneo and Juliet, i. 1, the line, " And flourishes his 
 blade in spite of me," — as if that would prove that to 
 -flourish used absolutely meant or could mean to flourish 
 a sword. 
 
 426. The dint of 'piiij. — Dint seems to be the same 
 word with dent, or indentation, that is, the impression 
 made as by a tooth. It is commonly dent in the old 
 "WTiters. 
 
 426. These are gracious drops. — Falling, the thought 
 seems to be, like the bountifid and refreshing rain from 
 heaven. 
 
 426. Marred, as you see, with traitors. — Yid. 363. 
 
 432. We will le revenged, etc. — This speech is printed 
 in the First Folio as if it were verse, thus : — 
 
 " Wc will be revenged : revenge ; 
 About, — seek, — burn, — fire, — kill, — slay! 
 Let not a traitor live." 
 
 433. Stay, countrymen. — To this speech Mr Collier's 
 MS. annotator appends the stage direction, " They are 
 rushing out.'"
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CiESAE. 2G7 
 
 43G. What private griefs tJiey have. — Vid. 129. — Griefs 
 with Shakespeare involves the notion rather of to aggrieve 
 than that expressed by to grieve. So again in 519 : 
 " Speak your griefs softly ;" and " Enlarge your griefs." 
 
 436. That gave me fuhlic leave to speak of him. — The 
 Second Folio has " That give me." Mr Collier restores 
 gave. 
 
 436. For I have neither wit, etc. — This is the reading 
 of the Second Folio. The First has icrnt, which Malone 
 actually adopts and defends ! Here is a most animated 
 and admii'ahle enumeration of the various powers, facvdties, 
 and arts by which a great orator is enabled " to stir men's 
 blood," beginning, natvu'ally, 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 voliune swarming with undeniable typo- 
 graphical errata, would make Antony substitute the 
 ridiculous remark that the first requisite for his purpose, 
 and that in which he was chiefly deficient, was what he 
 calls a writ, meaning a vn'itteu 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 ? " AVit," he goes on to tell us, " in our author's 
 time had not its present signification, but meant under- 
 standing." 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 Gentlemen of Verona (ii. 4), "boiTOws his wit 
 from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, 
 kindly, in your company." "Sir," replies Thurio, "if 
 you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit 
 bankrupt." So in Much Ado About Nothing, i. 1 , " 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."
 
 268 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 Or, to go no further, liow would Malone, or those who 
 think with him (if there be any), explain the conversation 
 about Benedick's wit in the Pirst Scene of the Eifth 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 con- 
 veys in the expression " the wit of man." 
 
 "We have the same natural conjunction of terms that 
 we have here in Measure for 3feasure, v. 1, where the 
 Duke addresses the discomfited Angelo : — 
 " Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, 
 That yet can do thee office } " 
 
 436. And hid them speak far me. — The tliem here, em- 
 phatic 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 pre- 
 dicament with the 1dm of " "When the noble Caesar saw 
 liim stab " of 426. Vid. 537. 
 
 444. To every several man. — Several is connected with 
 the verb sever, which is from the Latin separo, through 
 the French sewer (though that language has also separer, 
 as we too have separate). " Every several man " is every 
 man by himself or in his individual capacity. The phrase 
 may be illustrated by the legal distinction between estates 
 in severalty and in joint-tenancy or in common. So in 
 449 we have " common pleasures." " These properties of 
 arts or policy, and dissimulation or closeness," says 
 Bacon, in his 6th Essay, " are, indeed, liabits and faculties 
 several, and to be distinguished." 
 
 449. He liatli left them you. — The empliasis is on you. 
 
 450. And with the brands fire the traitors'" houses. — 
 This is the reading of the Eirst Eolio : the Second has 
 " all the traitors' houses," whicli may be riglit ; for the 
 prolongation oifire into a dissyllable, though it will give 
 us the requisite number of syllables (which satisfies both
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CiESAE. 269 
 
 Malone aud Steevens), will not make a very musical 
 verse. Tet the harsliness and dissonance produced by 
 the irregular fall of the accent, in addition to the diaeresis, 
 in the case of the word^re, may be thought to add to 
 the force aud expressiveness of the line. Mr Collier omits 
 the"aU." 
 
 454. TaTce iliou loliat course thou tvilt ! — How now, 
 fellow? — It is impossible not to suspect that Shake- 
 speare must have written " Take now what course thou 
 wilt." The emphatic pronoun, or even a pronoun at all, 
 isunaccoimtable here. The abruptness, or unexpectedness, 
 of the appearance of the Servant is vividly expressed 
 by the unusual construction of this verse, in which Ave 
 have an example of the extreme licence, or deviation from 
 the normal form, consisting in the reversal of the regular 
 accentuation in the last foot. Thus we have in Milton, 
 Paradise Lost, x. 840, 
 
 "Beyond all past example and future ; " 
 and again, cci. 683, 
 
 "To •whom thus Michael : These are the product." 
 
 At \ea.^t, future, which is common in his verse, has every- 
 where else the accent on the first syllable. Product 
 occurs nowhere else in Milton, and nowhere in Shake- 
 speare. — The stage directions before and after this speech 
 are in the original edition ; — " Exit Pleleians,^'' and 
 " Enter Servant" 
 
 458. He comes tipon a wish. — Coincidently with, as it 
 were upon the back of, my wish for him. Vid. 589. 
 
 459. / heard them say. — In all the old copies it is " I 
 heard Zmhi say ; " which Jeuuens explains thus: — "Him 
 evidently refers to Octavius, who, as he was coming into 
 Eome, had seen Brutus and Cassius riding like madmen 
 through the gates, and had related the same in the pre- 
 sence of the servant." The conjectural emendation of 
 them, however, which appears to have been first proposed 
 by Capell had been long generally received, and is con-
 
 270 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT III. 
 
 firmed by tlie authority of Mr Collier's manuscript an- 
 notator. 
 
 459. Are rid liJce madmen. — Vid. 374. 
 
 460. BeliJce they had some notice of the jjeople. — This 
 now obsolete word leUke (probably) is commonly held to 
 be a compound of li/ and like. But it may perhaps be 
 rather the ancient gelice (in like manner), with a slight 
 change of meaning. Vid. 390. — " Some notice of the 
 people " is some notice respecting the people. 
 
 SCENE III.— The same. A Street. 
 
 Enter Cinna the Poet. 
 
 461. Cin. I dreamt to-night, that I did feast with Ceesar, 
 And things unlikely charge my fantasy : 
 I have no will to wander forth of doors, 
 Yet something leads me forth. 
 
 Enter Citizens. 
 
 1 Cit. 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. 
 
 1 Cit. Ay, and briefly. 
 4 Cit. Ay, and wisely. 
 
 469. 3 Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best. 
 
 470. 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. 
 
 471. Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry : — 
 You'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly. 
 
 Cin. Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral. 
 
 1 Cit. As a friend, or an enemy .-' 
 Cin. As a friend. 
 
 2 Cit. That matter is answered directly. 
 4 Cit. For your dwelling, — briefly. 
 Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. 
 
 3 Cit. Your name, Sir, truly. 
 ('in. Truly, my name is Cinna. 
 
 1 Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator.
 
 sc. 3.] JULirs c.isAK. 271 
 
 Cin. I am Cinna tbe poet, I am Cinna the poet. 
 
 4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses. 
 
 483. Cin. I am not Cinna tbe conspirator. 
 
 484. 2 Cit. It is no matter, bis name's Cinna ; pluck but bis name out 
 of his heart, and turn him goin;j. 
 
 3 Cit. Tear him, tear him. Come, brands, ho ! fire-brands. To 
 Brutus', to Cassius' ; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some 
 to Casca's : some to Ligarius' : away ; go. \_Exeunt. 
 
 461. And things unlikely charge my fantasy . — Instead 
 of unlikely the old text has unluckily. Unlikely, which 
 appears for the first time in Mr Collier's one volume 
 ecUtiou, is the restoration of his MS. annotator. It at 
 once, and in the most satisfactory manner, tiu"ns nonsense 
 into sense. 
 
 461. I have no tcill, etc. — Very -well ilkistrated 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 Foet, and after 
 him the Plebeians.'''' 
 
 469. Ay, and truly, you tcere best. — This is strictly 
 equivalent to " Tou woidd be best," and might perhaps 
 be more easily resolved than the more common idiom, 
 " Tou 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 'i^ei, the French il 
 y a, etc. In the following sentence tvom As You Like If, 
 i. 1, 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." 
 
 470. Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor. — Cinna's meaning 
 evidently is, Wisely I am a bachelor. But that is not
 
 272 PniLOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT IT. 
 
 conveyed by the way in wliich the passage has hitherto 
 been always pointed — " Wisely I say." 
 
 471. You'll hear me a hang for that. — You'll get a bang 
 for that (from some one). The me goes for nothing. Vid. 
 &9 and 205. 
 
 483. Cin. 1 am not, etc. — This speeeh was carelessly 
 omitted in the generality of the modern texts, inckiding 
 tliat of the standard edition of Malone and Boswell, till 
 restored by Mr Knight. It is given, however, in Jen- 
 nens's collation (1774), and he does not note its omission 
 by any preceding editor. 
 
 484. Turn Mm going. — Turn him off; let him go. The 
 exjiression occurs also in As You Like It, Hi. 1 : — " Do 
 this expediently, and tuim him going." So in Sir Thomas 
 Urquhart's translation of Bahelais, B. i. ch. 35; "Avoid 
 hence, and get thee going." — This story of Cinna is told 
 by Plutarch in his Life of Ca3sar. He says, the people, 
 falling upon him in their rage, slew him outright in the 
 market-place. 
 
 The stage direction with which the Act terminates in 
 the origioal edition is, " Exeunt all the Blebeians." 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. — The same. A Room in Antony's House. 
 
 Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a Table. 
 
 486. Ant. These many, then, shall die ; their names are pricked. 
 Oct. Your brother too must die. Consent you, Lepidus ? 
 Lep. I do consent. 
 Oct. Prick him down, Antony. 
 
 490. Lep. Upon condition I'ublius shall not live, 
 Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. 
 
 491. Ant. lie shall not live ; look, with a spot I damn him. 
 But, Lepidus, go you to Cicsar's house ; 
 
 Fetch the will hither, and wc shall determine 
 How to cut off some charge in Ics'-i'^ics.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CJESAE. 273 
 
 Lep. What, shall I find you here ? 
 
 Oct. Or here, or at 
 The Capitol. \Exit Lepidus. 
 
 494. Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man, 
 Meet to be sent on errands : Is it fit, 
 The three-fold ■R^orld divided, he should stand 
 One of the three to share it .'' 
 
 Oct. So you thought him ; 
 And took his voice who should be pricked to die 
 In our black sentence and proscription. 
 496. Ant. Octavius, I have seen more days than you ; 
 And though we lay these honours 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 off, 
 Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, 
 And graze on commons. 
 
 Oct. You may do your mil ; 
 But he's a tried and valiant soldier. 
 
 498. 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, 
 
 "Wliich, out of use, and staled by othei men, 
 
 Begin his fashion : Do not talk of him, 
 
 But as a property. 
 
 And now, Octavius, 
 Listen great things. — Brutus and Cassius 
 Are levpng 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. 
 
 499. Oct. Let us do so : for we are at the stake, 
 
 T
 
 27i PHILOLOGICAL C01IME"N^TARY. [aCT IT. 
 
 And bayed about with many enemies ; 
 
 And some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, 
 
 Millions of mischiefs. [Exeimt. 
 
 The Same. A Eoom in Antony s House. — The original 
 heading is only, ^' Enter Antony, Oetavius, and Lepidus." 
 The Same, meaning at Eome, was supplied by Eowe. It 
 is evident (especially from 492 and 493) that the scene is 
 placed at Rome, although in point of fact the triumvirs 
 lield their meeting in a small island in the river llhenus 
 (now the Beno) near Bononia {Bologna^, where, Plutarch 
 says, they remained three days together. 
 
 486. These many. — An archaic foi'm for so many, this 
 number. 
 
 486. Their names are pricked. — Vid. 352. 
 
 490. Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. — This is 
 a mistake. The person meant is Lucius Caesar, who was 
 Mark Antony's uncle, the brother of his mother. 
 
 491. Look, ivith a spot I damn him. — Note him as con- 
 demned, by a mark or stigma (called pricking his name 
 in 486, and pricking him down in 489, and pricking him 
 in 495). 
 
 491. Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine. — 
 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 ; 
 and this alteration Mr CoUier also adopts iu his regu- 
 lated text, although it does not appear to be one of the 
 corrections of his manuscript annotator. 
 
 494. This is a slight unmeritahle man. — So afterwards 
 in 535, "Away, slight man!" said by Brutus, in mo- 
 mentary anger, to Cassius. Vid. 522. — Unmeritahle 
 should mean incapable of deserving. 
 
 494. Ilecl to be sent on errands. — Errand is an Original 
 English word, cerend (perhaps from cer, or ar, before, 
 whence also ere and early). It has no connexion with 
 errant, wandering (from the Latin erro, whence also err, 
 and error, and erroneous). .
 
 sc. 1.] JULIUS c.i:sAii. 275 
 
 496. To groan and sweat under the husiness. — Business 
 is commonly only a dissyllable witli Shakespeare ; and it 
 may be no more bere upon the principle explained in the 
 note on " She dreamt to-night she saw my statue " in 
 246. There are a good many more instances of lines con- 
 cluding 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. 
 
 496. Either led or driven, etc. — The three last Folios, 
 and also Eowe, have "print the way." The u-e of this 
 line, and the our and the we of the next, are all emphatic. 
 There is the common irregularity of a single short super- 
 fluous syllable (the er oi either). 
 
 496. And graze on commons.— In is the reading of all 
 the old copies. On is the correction of Mr Collier's MS. 
 annotator. 
 
 498. Store of provender. — Frovender, which Johnson 
 explains to mean " dry food for brutes," and which also 
 appears in the iovvAS, provand and j^rovant, is immediately 
 from the French provende, ha^ang the same,,signification ; 
 but the origin of the French word is not so clear. The 
 Italian, indeed, has provianda, a feminine substantive in 
 the singular; but this signifies victuals in general, or 
 flesh-meat in particular, and is the same word with the 
 French viande and the English viands, which are com- 
 monly traced to the Latin vivere (quasi vivenda), an 
 etymology which receives some support from the exist- 
 ence of vivanda in the Italian as apparently only another 
 form of provianda. Another derivation of the French 
 provende brings it ivova provenire axidproventus, in which 
 case it would signify properly increase, growth, crop ; 
 and another would bring it from provideo, making it only 
 a variation or corruption of j:)roy/«?07?. The parentage of 
 the word, therefore, may be said to be contested between 
 vivo, venio, and video. Possibly vendo might also put in 
 
 T 2
 
 276 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT IT. 
 
 a claim. Webster has : — " It is said that provend, pro- 
 vender, originally signified a vessel containing a measure 
 of corn daily given to a horse or other beast." By whom 
 this is stated, or in what language the words are said to 
 have this meaning, he does not inform us. He also ad- 
 duces the Norman provender, a prebendary, and provendre, 
 a prebend, and the Dutch prove, a prebend. The Latin 
 frodbenda (from prcebeo'), the undoubted original of ^re- 
 hend, may have got confounded with provende in the ob- 
 scurity enveloping the origin and proper meaning of the 
 latter term. 
 
 498. And, in some taste. — It might seem at first that 
 this phrase, as it may be said to be equivalent in eftect 
 to oar common " in some sense," so is only another word- 
 ing 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 oneof the senses, this would 
 certainly be a wi'ong explanation. The expression "in some 
 sense" has nothing to do with the powers of sensation or 
 perception ; sense here is signification, meaning, import. 
 Neither diOe»iaste 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 enjoyment or participa- 
 tion, a taste merely. " In some taste" is another way of 
 saying, not " in some sense," but " in some measure, or 
 degree." 
 
 498. On objects, arts, and imitations, 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 inexpli- 
 cable, till a comma was substituted for the full point by 
 Mr Knight, which sliglit 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 are out of use and staled (or worn out : Tid. 50) 
 by other people, which, notwithstanding, begin his fashion
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CESAR. 277 
 
 (or with wlilcli liis following the fashion begins). Theo- 
 bald reduces the full point to a comma, as other editors 
 Jo to a colon or a semicolon ; but it is evident, neverthe- 
 less, from his note that he did not regard the relative 
 clause as a qualification or limitation of what precedes it. 
 
 49S. Listen great things. — Listen has now ceased to be 
 used as an active verb. 
 
 498. Our lest 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 " Oiu* best Friends made, our meanes 
 stretcht," — which, at any rate, it is quite impossible to 
 believe to be what he wrote. 
 
 498. And let us presently go sit in counsel, etc. — TJ/e 
 more ordinary phraseology woi;ld be " Let us sit in con- 
 sultation how," or " Let us consult how." The word 
 in the First Folio is " Councell," and most, if not all, 
 modern editions have "sit in council." But Vid. 263. 
 
 499. And hayed ahout icith many enemies. — Vid. 349 
 (for hayed), and 363 (for ivith). 
 
 499. Millions of 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. — Before Brutcs's Te7it, in the Camp near Sardis. 
 
 Drum. — Enter Jj-RVTVS, Lucilius, Titij^ivs, a)id Soldiers : 
 PiNDARUS meeting them : Lucius at a distance. 
 
 Bru. Stand, ho ! 
 
 Litcil. Give the word, ho ! and stand. 
 
 502. Bru. What now, Lucilius ? is Cassius near ? 
 
 503. Liicil. lie is at hand ; and Pindarus is come 
 To do you salutation from his master. 
 
 [Pindarus gives a letter to Brutus. 
 50 i. Bru. lie greets me well. — Your master, Pindarus,
 
 278 PHILOLOGICAL COMilEKTABT. [aCT IT. 
 
 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 honour. 
 
 506. Bru. He is not doubted. — 
 
 A word, Lucilius : 
 How he received you, let me be resolved. 
 
 507. Lucil. With courtesy, and with respect enough ; 
 But not with such familiar instances. 
 
 Nor 'svith such free and friendly conference, 
 As he hath used of old. 
 
 508. 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 theii* 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 ? 
 
 509. Lticil. They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered ; 
 The greater part, the horse in general, 
 
 Are come with Cassius. [March tcithin. 
 
 510. Bru. Hark, he is arrived : — 
 March gently on to meet him. 
 
 Enter Cassius and Soldiers. 
 
 Cas. Stand, ho! 
 
 Bni. Stand, ho ! Speak the word along. 
 513. Within. Stand. 
 614. Within. Stand. 
 616. Within. Stand. 
 
 Cas. Most noble brother, you have done me wrong. 
 Bru. Judge mo, you 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 
 
 519. Bru. Cassius, be content : 
 
 Speak your griefs softly; — I do know you well
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C>ESAR. 279 
 
 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. 
 
 Cos. Pindarus, 
 Bid our commanders lead their- charges olT 
 A little from this ground. 
 521. Bru. Lucius, do you the like; and let no man 
 Come to our tent, till we have done our confei'ence. 
 Lucilius and Titinius, guard our door. \ Exeunt 
 
 Scene II. — The original heading hei'e is "Drum. 'Enter 
 Brutus, Lucillius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus 
 meete them." The modern editors after the name of 
 Lucilius introduce that of Lucius. See the note on 521. 
 
 502. What now, Lucilius ? is Cassius near ? — Here the 
 ius is dissyllabic in Lucilius and monosyllabic in Cassius. 
 
 503. To do you salutation Another of the old applica- 
 tions of do which Tve have now lost. Vid. 1-47. The 
 stage direction about the Letter is modern. 
 
 504. He greets me u-ell. — The meaning seems to be, 
 He salutes me in a friendly manner. Tet this can hardly 
 be regarded as a legitimate employment of well. For 
 greet see 242. 
 
 504. In his oivn change, etc The mearung seems to be, 
 
 either through a change that has taken place in his own 
 feelings and conduct, or through the misconduct of his 
 oflScers. 
 
 504. So?ne tcorthg cause. — Some reasonable or sufficient 
 cause, some cause of m^ orth, value, or power to justify the 
 wish. Our modern tcorth is the ancient iveorth, wiirth, 
 or wyrth, connected with which are iceorscipe, worship, 
 and iveorthian, to hold in esteem or honour. But there 
 may also perhaps be a connexion with iceorthan, or icur- 
 than, to become, or to be, the same word with the modern 
 German werden, and, still in a single fragment remaining 
 in use among ourselves in the phrase woe worth, that is,
 
 280 PHILOLOGICAL COAIMEIv'TAET. [aCT IY. 
 
 woe be. If this be so, either what we call icorth is that 
 which, any tiling emphatically is, or, when Ave say that a 
 thing is, Ave are only saying that it is worth in a broad or 
 vague sense, according to a common manner of forming a 
 term of general out of one of particular import. In the 
 latter case worth may be connected with vir, and virtus, 
 and vireo. Vid. 209. 
 
 506. 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 pros- 
 ody did not admonish us to the same effect, it Avould, in 
 these circumstances, be better to print the passage as I 
 have given it, with two hemistichs or broken lines. 
 
 50G. Let me he resolmd. — Vid. 339. 
 
 507. But not ivith 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. Assiduitus is used by Cicero ; instantia, I believe, 
 is not found in the best age of the Latin tongue. The 
 English word is employed 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 the 
 Second Part of King Henry the Fourth, Hi. 1, 
 
 " I have received 
 A certain instance that Glcndower is dead ; " — 
 
 that is, a certain assurance. Again, in Kiny Bichard the 
 Third, "Tell him," says Lord Hastings in reply to the 
 message from Lord Stanley, Hi. 2, 
 
 " Tell him his fears are shallow, witliout instance ; " — • 
 
 that is, apparently, Avithout any fact to support or justify 
 them. Again, in IlamJct, Hi. 2, in the i'lay acted before 
 the Xing and Queen Ave have
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS C.ISAR. 281 
 
 " The instances that second marriage move 
 Arc 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 vdth it. 
 In another phrase in which it has come to be used, "in 
 the first instance," it is not very obviou^s what its mean- 
 ing 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 commonly 
 used, for a particular fact, we ought to understand 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 illustrated 
 by the following passages : — " They will scarcely believe 
 this without trial : oifer them instances ; which shall 
 bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber 
 window ; hear me call Margaret, Hero ; hear Margaret 
 term me Claudio ; " etc. (Jiluch Ado About Xoth., ii. 2) ; — • 
 
 " Instance ! instance ! strong as Pluto's gates; 
 Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven ; 
 Instance ! instance ! strong as heaven itself ; 
 The bonds of heaven are slijiped, dissolved, and loosed ; 
 And -with another knot, five-finger-tied, 
 The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, 
 The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy reliqucs 
 Of her o'ereatcu faith, are bound to Dioraed." 
 
 Troil. a7id Cress., v. 2. 
 
 508. Like Jwrses hot at hand. — That is, apparently,
 
 2S2 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT IV. 
 
 when held by the liaud, or led. 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 Eogero's 
 griflfith horse "gentle to the spur and hand." But has 
 not " at hand " always meant, as it always does now, 
 only near or hard by Y That meaning will not do here. 
 The commentators afford us no light or help. Pei'haps 
 Shakespeare wrote " in hand." The two expressions i7i 
 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 hear in hand (" to keep in expectation, to amuse with 
 false pretences " — Nares) and«^ any hand (that is, in any 
 case), which are now obsolete. In Tlie Comedy of Errors, 
 it. 1, at 7i ««<:?, 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, is your tardy master now at 
 hand? Bro. E. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and 
 that my two ears can witness." In King John, 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 immediately transported into England with the 
 Prince of Wales in the head of them " (Hist., Boole x.) ; 
 " The King was only expected to be neai'er England, how 
 disguised soever, that he might quickly put himself into 
 the head of the army, that would be ready to receive him " 
 (7i., Book xiv.) ; " These cashiered officers . . . found so 
 much encoiu'agement, that, at a time appointed, they 
 put themselves into the heads of their regiments, and
 
 SC. 2.] JULirS CyXSAR. 2S3 
 
 marched with them into the field " {Id., Booh xvi.) ; 
 '■ That Lord [Fairfax] had called together some of hia 
 old disbanded ofBcers and soldiers, and many principal 
 men of the country, and marched in the head of them 
 into York" {3id.); ".Upon that very day they [the 
 Parliament] received a petition, which they had fomented, 
 presented ... by a man notorious in those times, . . . 
 Praise-God Barelone, in the head of a crowd of sectaries " 
 (Ibid.); "He [the Chancellor] informed him [Admiral 
 ]\Iontague] of Sir George Booth's being possessed of 
 Chester, and in the head of an army " (Ibid.}. 
 
 508. Til ey fall their crests. — This wse ,of fall, as an 
 cctive verb, is not common in Shakespeare ; but it may 
 be found in winters of considerably later date. 
 
 508. SinJc in the trial. — One may suspect that it should 
 be shrink. 
 
 509. Instead of the stage direction " Ilarch icithin " 
 at the end of this speech, the original text has " Low 
 March witliin " in the middle of 508. And instead of 
 '■'^ Enter Cassius and Soldiers," it is there "Enter Cassius 
 and his powers." 
 
 513, 514, 515. — Tlie Witliin 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 515 the Stage 
 Direction, " One after the other, and fainter." 
 
 519. Cassius, be content. — That is, be continent ; con- 
 tain, or restrain, yourself. 
 
 519, Speak your ffriefs softly. — Vid. 129 and 436. 
 
 519. Nothing but love from us. — From each of us to 
 the other. 
 
 519. Enlarge your griefs. — State them with all fulness 
 of eloquent exposition ; as we still say Enlarge upon. — 
 Vid. 129 and 436. Clarendon uses the verb to enlarge
 
 284 PHILOLOGICAL COilllENTAKT. [aCT IV. 
 
 differently both from Shakespeare and from the modern 
 language ; thus : — " As soon as his lordship [the Earl of 
 Manchester] 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.). 
 
 521. Lucius, do you the like ; etc. — The original text 
 
 " Lucillins, 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, Steeveus 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 guard- 
 ing 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 Lucilius 
 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 insertion of the Let was pro- 
 bably 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. At the close of the 
 conference we have Brutus, in 580, again addressing him- 
 self to Lucilius and Titinius, who had evidently kept to- 
 gether all tlie time it lasted. Lucius (wlio in the original 
 text is commonly called the Boy) and Titinius are no- 
 where mentioned together. In tlie heading of Scene 
 III., indeed, the modern editors have again " Lucius and
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C^ESAB. 285 
 
 Ti fin ins at some distance ; " but this is their own manu- 
 focture. All that we have in the old copies is, " Manet 
 Brutus and Cassius." See also 571. 
 
 SCENE III.— Within the Tent o/EnrTUS. Lccilius and 
 TiTixius at some distance from it. 
 
 Enter Brutus and Cassius. 
 
 522. Cas. That you have wronged me doth appear in this : 
 You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella 
 For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; 
 "V\Tierein my letters, praying on his side. 
 Because I knew the man, were slighted off. 
 Bru. You wi-onged yourself, to wTite in such a case. 
 
 524. Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet 
 That evei7 nice offence should bear his comment. 
 
 525. Brxi. Lot me tell you, Cassius, you yourself 
 Are much condemned to hive an itching palm. 
 To sell and mart your offices for gold 
 
 To undcscrvers. 
 
 Cds. I an itching palm ? 
 You know, that you arc Brutus that speaks this, 
 Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. 
 527. Bnt. The name of Cassius honoui-s this corruption. 
 And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. 
 Cas. Chastisement ! 
 
 529. Bru. Eemember 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 aU this world, 
 But for supporting robbers, shall we now 
 Contaminate our fingers with base bribes } 
 And sell the mighty space of our large honours 
 For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? — 
 I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon. 
 Than such a Honian. 
 
 530. 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.
 
 286 PHILOLOGICAL COMME>'TAET. [aCT IV, 
 
 531. Brii. Go to ; you are not, Cassius. 
 Cas. I am. 
 £ru. I say, you are not. 
 
 534. Cas. Ur<^e me no more, I shall forget myself; 
 Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. 
 
 535. £ru. Away, slight man ! 
 ('as. Is't possible ? 
 
 537. Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. 
 
 TMnst I give way and room to your rash choler ? 
 
 Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares ? 
 Cas. ye gods ! ye gods ! Must I endure all this > 
 539. Brii. All this ? Ay, more : Fret till your proud heart break ; 
 
 Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, 
 
 And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge ? 
 
 Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch 
 
 Under your testy humour ? By the gods, 
 
 You shall digest the venom of your spleen. 
 
 Though it do split you : for, fi-ora this day forth, 
 
 I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, 
 
 "When you are waspish. 
 Cas. Is it come to this ? 
 
 541. Bru. You say you are a better soldier: 
 Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true. 
 And it shall please me well : For mine own part, 
 I shall be glad to learn of abler men. 
 
 542. Cas. You wi-ong me every way, you wrong mj, Brutus ; 
 I said an elder soldier, not a better : 
 
 Did I say, better? 
 
 Bru. If you did, I care not. 
 
 Cas. Wlien Cajsar 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 ? 
 
 Brti. For your life you durst not. 
 
 Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love : 
 I may do that I shall be sorry for. 
 651. 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 ; —
 
 SC. 3.] JULIL'S C^SAR. 2S7 
 
 For I can raise no money by vile means : 
 
 By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, 
 
 And drop ray blood for drachmas, than to ^rrini^ 
 
 From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash 
 
 By any indirection, I did send 
 
 To you for g-old 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, 
 
 Be ready, gods, with all youi- thunderbolts ; 
 
 Dash him to pieces ! 
 
 Cas. I denied you not. 
 
 B?-u. You did. 
 654. 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. 
 
 Brii. I do not like your faults. 
 
 Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. 
 
 559. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear 
 As huge as high Olympus. 
 
 560. 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. 0, 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 Eoman, take it forth ; 
 
 I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : 
 
 Strike, as thou didst at Ca)sar ; for, I know, 
 
 When thou didst hate him worst, thou loved'st him better 
 
 Than ever thou loved'st Cassias. 
 
 561. Bni. Sheath your dagger : 
 
 Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ; 
 To what you will, dishonour shall be humour. 
 Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb,
 
 288 rniLOLOGiCAL commentary. [act iv. 
 
 That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; 
 Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, 
 And straight is cold again. 
 562. Cas. Hath Cassius lived 
 
 To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, 
 "When grief, and blood ill-tempered, vcxeth him ? 
 
 Bru. "WTien I spoke that, I -vras ill-tempered too. 
 
 Cas. Do you confess so much } Give me youi" band. 
 
 Bru. And my heart too. 
 
 Cas. Brutus !— 
 
 Bru. "What's the matter ? 
 
 568. Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, 
 "When that rash humour which my mother gave me 
 Makes me forgetful .•' 
 
 569. 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 within. 
 670. Poet, [withiti]. Let me go in to see the generals : 
 
 There is some grudge between 'em ; 'tis not meet 
 
 They be alone. 
 571. Lncil. [7OT77n'rt]. You shall not come to them. 
 
 Poet, [loithin]. Nothing but death shall stay me. 
 
 Enter Poet. 
 
 Cas. How now ? What's the matter } 
 
 574. 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. 
 
 575. Cas. Ha, ha ; how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme ! 
 Bru. Get you hence, sirrah ; saucy fellow, hence ! 
 Cas. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion. 
 
 578. 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 ! [Exit Poet. 
 
 Enter LuciLlUS and Titinius. 
 
 580. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders 
 
 Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. 
 68L Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you, 
 
 Immediately to us. [Exeunt Ltjciijus and Titinius. 
 
 Br^l. Lucius, a bowl of wine. 
 
 Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry. 
 
 Bru. Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C.'ESAR. 289 
 
 Cas. Of your pliilosopliy you make no use, 
 If you give place to accidental evils. 
 
 Bru. No man bears sorrow better : — Portia is dead. 
 Cas. Ila! Portia? 
 Bru. Slie is dead. 
 
 589. Cas. How 'scaped I killing, when I crossed you so } — 
 
 insupportable and touching loss ! — 
 Upon what sickness ? 
 
 590. Bni. Impatient of my absence ; 
 
 And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony 
 Have made themselves so strong ; — for with her death 
 That tidings came ; — ^^-ith this she fell distract, 
 And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. 
 Cas. And died so ? 
 Bru. Even so. 
 593. Cas. ye immortal gods ! 
 
 Enter Lucius, tcith icine and tapers. 
 
 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 Titinius, with Messala. 
 
 596. 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 .-' 
 
 598. 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. 
 
 599. Mess. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour. 
 Bru. With what addition ? 
 
 601. Mess. 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. 
 Cas. Cicero one ? 
 604. Mess. Cicero is dead, 
 
 u
 
 290 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT IT 
 
 And by that order of proscription. — 
 
 Had you your letters from youi' wife, my lord ? 
 
 Bru. No, Messala. 
 
 Mess. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her ? 
 
 Bru. Nothing, Messala. 
 
 Mess. That, methinks, is strange. 
 
 Bru. Why ask you ? hear you aught of her in yours ? 
 
 Mess. No, my lord. 
 
 Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. 
 
 Mess. Then like a Roman bear the truth I teU : 
 For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. 
 613. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.— We must die, Messala : 
 With meditating that she must die once, 
 I have the patience to endure it now. 
 
 Mess. Even so great men great losses should endure. 
 
 615. Cas. I have as much of this in art as you, 
 But yet my nature coidd not bear it so. 
 
 616. Bru. Well, to om- work alive. What do you think 
 Of marching to Philippi presently .' 
 
 Cas. I do not think it good. 
 Bru. Yom- reason ? 
 
 619. 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. 
 
 620. Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. 
 The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground 
 
 Do stand but in a forced affection ; 
 For they have grudged us contribution : 
 The enemy, marching along by them, 
 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. 
 622. Bru. Under your pardon. — You must note beside. 
 That we have tried the utmost of our friends : 
 Our legions arc brim-full, our cause is ripe ; 
 The enemy incrcaseth overy day ; 
 We, at the height, are ready to decline. 
 There is a tide in the affairs of men,
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C.£S.VB. 291 
 
 Wliich, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; 
 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 
 Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. 
 
 On such a full sea are we now afloat ; 
 
 And we must take the cuiTent when it serves, 
 
 Or lose our ventures. 
 G23. Cas. Then, with your will, go on ; 
 
 "We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. 
 G21. Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, 
 
 And nature must obey necessity ; 
 
 Which we will niggard ^vith a little rest. 
 
 There is no more to say .'' 
 
 625. Cas. Xo more. Good night ; 
 
 Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence. 
 
 626. Bru. Lucius, my gown. \Exit Lucius. 
 
 Farewell, good Messala ; — 
 Good night, Titinius : — Xoble, noble Cassius, 
 Good night, and good repose. 
 
 Cas. my dear brother, 
 This was an ill beginning of the night : 
 Never come such division 'tween our souls ! 
 Let it not, Brutus. 
 
 Bi-u. Everj-thing is well. 
 
 Cas. Good night, my lord. 
 
 Bru. Good night, good brother. 
 
 Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus. 
 
 Bru. Farewell, every one. 
 
 [Exeunt Cassics, TiTiNiXTS, and Mess.\i..\. 
 
 Re-enter Lucius, with the Goicn. 
 
 Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument ? 
 Luc. Here, in the tent 
 6.34. 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 ha%-e them sleep on cushions in my tent. 
 635. Luc. YaiTO and Claudius ! 
 
 Enter Yakko and Claudius. 
 
 Var. Calls my lord ? 
 637. 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. 
 u 2
 
 292 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTABT. [aCT IT. 
 
 Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your pleasure. 
 639. Bru. I will not have it so : lie down, good sii-s ; 
 It may be 1 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 down. 
 
 Luc. I was sure your lordship did not give it me. 
 641. Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetfiJ. 
 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. 
 645. Brtt. I shoidd not urge thy duty past thy might ; 
 I know young bloods look for a time of rest. 
 Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. 
 
 647. Bru. It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; 
 I will not hold thee long : if I do Mve, 
 
 I mil be good to thee. l_Music and a soiig. 
 
 This is a sleepy tune : — 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; 
 
 I'll take it from thee ; and, good boy, good night. 
 
 Let me see, let me sec; — Is not the leaf turned down, 
 
 "Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. [He sits down. 
 
 Enter the Ghost of Cesar. 
 
 How ill this taper burns !^IIa ! who comes here .^ 
 I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes 
 That shapes this monstrous ajjparition. 
 It comes upon me : — Art thou anything.' 
 Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, 
 That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare ? 
 Speak to me what thou art. 
 
 648. Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. 
 
 649. Bru. Why com' st thou .' 
 
 Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt sec mc at Philippi. 
 65L Bru. Well; tbon I sliall see thee again? 
 
 652. Ghost. Ay, at I'liilippi. [Ghost vanishes 
 
 Sib?,. Bru. Why, I will sue tlicc at Philippi then, — 
 Now I have taken heart, thou vanishcst :
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAR. 293 
 
 111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. — 
 Boy ! Lucius ! — Varro ! Claudius ! Sirs, awake ! — 
 Claudius ! 
 
 Luc. The strings, my lord, are false. 
 
 Bru. He thinks, he still is at his infitrument. — 
 Lucius, awake. 
 
 Luc. IVfy lord ! 
 
 Bru. Didst thou dveam, Lucius, that thou so cricd'st out ? 
 
 Lv£. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. 
 
 Bni. Yes, that thou didst : Didst thou see anything ? 
 
 Luc. Nothing, my lord. 
 661. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius. — Sirrah, Claudius ! 
 Fellow tliou ! awake. 
 
 Var. My lord. 
 
 Clau. My lord. 
 
 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 uotiiing. 
 
 Clau. Nor I, my lord. 
 669. Bric. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius ; 
 Bid liim set on his powers betimes before, 
 And we will follow. 
 
 Var. Clau. It shall he done, my lord. [^Exeunt. 
 
 522. Wherein my letters . . . tcere sliglited off. — The 
 printer of the First Folio, evidently misunderstanding 
 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 off." 
 
 The received reading, therefore, though probably right, is 
 only conjectural ; unless we are to suppose, from its 
 being adopted by Mr Collier, that it has the sanction of 
 his manuscript annotator. Some of the modern editors 
 print "slighted q/!" At a date considerably later than 
 Shakespeare we have stiU slighted over (for to tx-eat or
 
 294 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEXTABT. [aCT IT. 
 
 perform carelessly). It is used by Dryden in tlie end of 
 the seventeenth century, as it had been by Bacon in the 
 be^innino:. The connexion of the various modifications 
 of the term sliglit is sufficiently obvious. They all involve 
 the notion of quickly and easily escaping or being dis- 
 patched and got rid of Perhaps not only sliglit and sly, 
 but even slide, and slink, and sleek ought to be referred 
 to the same root. In that case the modern German 
 schlau (sly) may be connected not only with sclileichen 
 (to move softly), but also with schlechi (plain, simple, 
 honest) ; strange as it may be thought that the same 
 element should denote slyness or cvinning in one modifi- 
 cation, and simplicit}^ or straightforwardness in another. 
 
 52-1. That every nice offence, etc Nice is the ancient 
 
 native nesc or hnesc, tender, soft, gentle. In modern 
 English the word always implies smallness or pettiness, 
 though not always in a disparaging sense, but rather 
 most usually in the contrary. So a pet, literally some- 
 thing small, is the common name for anything that is 
 loved and cherished For "7»!s comment" see 54. 
 
 525. 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 541, we have an- 
 other 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. 
 
 525. 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 intro- 
 duces the cause, not the consequence, of the condemna- 
 tion. "You are condemned" is used as a stronger ex- 
 pression for you are said, you are alleged, you are charged. 
 — An itching palm is a covetous palm ; as we say an itch
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C^SAE. 295 
 
 for praise, an itch for scribbling, etc., or as in the trans- 
 lation of the Bible Ave read, in 2 Tim. iv. 3, of people 
 "having itching ears" (being exactly after the original, 
 
 KVT]d6fierOl Tljl' UKO)'jl'). 
 
 525. To sell and mart your offices. — To make merchan- 
 dise, or matter of bargain and sale, of your appointments 
 and commissions. Mart is held to be a contraction of 
 marhet, which is connected with the Latin merx and 
 mercor, and so with merchant, mercantile, commerce, etc. 
 
 525. To undeservers. — We have lost both this sub- 
 stantive and the verb to disserve (to do an injury to), 
 which Clarendon uses ; though we still retain tl^e ad- 
 jective undeserving. 
 
 527. And chastisement doth therefore. — All the old 
 copies have doth. Mr Collier, howe^•er, in his one 
 volume edition substitutes does. 
 
 529, 530. And lay the moon. . . . Brutus, bay not me. 
 — In the First Polio we have " hay the moon," and " lait 
 not me ;" in all the others, " lait the moon" and " lait 
 not me." Theobald suggested " lay the moon" and " lay 
 not me ;" and it is a remarkable confirmation of this 
 conjectvire that it exactly accords with the reading given 
 by Mr Collier's MS. annotator, who in 529 restores in 
 the Second Folio the lay of the Fii'st, and in 530 corrects 
 the lait of all the Folios into lay. To lay the moon is 
 to bark at the moon ; and lay not me would, of course, be 
 equivalent to bark not, like an infuriated dog, at me. 
 Vid. 3'19. To lait, again, from the French lattre, might 
 be understood to mean to attack with violence. So in 
 Ilacleth, V. 7, we have "to be hailed with the rabble's 
 curse." It is possible that there may have been some 
 degree of confusion in the minds of our ancestors between 
 hait and lay, 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
 
 296 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT IT. 
 
 subjoins, "Tou forget yourself, To hedge me in'' — although 
 Johnson interprets these words as meaning " to limit my 
 authority by your direction or censure." — The present 
 passage may be compared with one in A W^inter's 
 Tale, a. 3 : — 
 
 " "WTio late hath beat her husband, 
 And novr baits me." 
 
 A third Anglicized form of hattre, in addition to heat 
 and halt, is probably hate, explained by JN^ares as " a term 
 in falconry ; to flutter the wings as preparing for flight, 
 particularly at the sight of prey." Thus Petrucio, in 
 The 'gaming of the Shrew, iv. 1, 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. 
 
 ISTares quotes the following passage from a letter of 
 Bacon's as beautifully exemplifying the true meaning of 
 the word : — " Wherein [viz. in matters of business] I 
 would to Grod that I were hooded, that I saw less ; or 
 that I could perform more : for now I am like a hawk 
 that hates, when I see occasion of service ; but cannot fly, 
 because I am tied to another's fist." The letter, which 
 was first printed by Eawley in the First Part of the Re- 
 suscitatio (1657), is without date, and is merely entitled 
 " A Letter to Queen Elizabeth, upon tlie sending of a 
 New-year's Gift." 
 
 530. I am a soldier, I. — It is impossible to be quite 
 certain whether the second / here be the pronoun or the 
 adverb which we now write Ay. Sec the note on " I, as 
 ^neas," in 54. 
 
 530. To make conditions. — To arrange the terms on 
 which offices should be conferred.
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAE. 207 
 
 531. Go to. — Johnson, in liis Dictionary, explains this 
 expression as equivalent to " Come, come, take the right 
 course" (meaning, contemptuously or sarcasticallj') . He 
 adds, that, besides being thus used as " a scornful exhort- 
 ation," it is also sometimes " 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 beiuider- 
 stood 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 language," etc. 
 
 534. Have mmd upon your TieaUli. — Mind, is here re- 
 membrance, and henJih is welfare, or safety, generally ; 
 senses which are both now obsolete. 
 
 535. Away, slight man ! — Vid. 494 and 522. 
 
 537. Hear one, for I icill speaJc. — The emphasis is not 
 to be denied to the will here, although it stands in the 
 place commonly stated to require an unaccented syllable. 
 rid. 426, 436, and 613. 
 
 539. Must I observe you? — Pay you observance, or 
 reverential attention. 
 
 541. You say you are a better soldier. — Vid. 525. 
 
 541. / 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 con- 
 jecture, its claim to be accepted would be nearly in-e- 
 sistible. Noble here is altogether inappropriate. Cassius, 
 as Mr Collier remarks, had said nothing about " noble 
 men," whereas abler is the very expression that he had 
 used (in 530) : — • 
 
 "I am a soldier, I, 
 Older in practice, ahhr than yourself 
 To make conditions." 
 
 542. I said, an elder soldier. — This is the reading of all 
 the old copies. Bat Mr Collier prints older. 
 
 551. You have done that you should be sorry for. — The
 
 298 PHILOLOGICAL C03^ME^'TAEY, [aCT IV. 
 
 empliasis, of course, is on sliould. The common meaning 
 of shall, as used by Cassius, is turned, in Brutus's quick 
 and unsparing replication, into the secondary meaning of 
 should (ought to be). Vid. 181. 
 
 551. Which I respect not. — Which I heed not. Here 
 resjoect has rather less force of meaning than it has now 
 acquired ; whereas observe in 539 has more than it now 
 conveys. Respect in Shakespeare means commonly no 
 more than what we now call regard or view. Thus, in 
 The Ilidsummer Night's Dreara, i. 1, Lj^sander says of his 
 aunt, " She respects me as her only son ;" and, in ii. 1, 
 Helena says to Demetrius, " Ton, in my respect, are all 
 the world." So, in The Merchant of Venice, v. 1, when 
 Portia, on hearing the music from the lighted house as 
 she approaches Belmont at night in company Avith 
 Nerissa, says, — 
 
 " Nothing is good, I see, without respect ; 
 Methiuks it sounds much sweeter than by day," — 
 
 slie means merely that nothing is good without reference 
 to circumstances, or that it is only when it is in accordance 
 Avith the place and the time that any good thing can be 
 really or fully enjoyed. As she immediately subjoins : — 
 
 " How many things hy season seasoned are 
 To their right praise and true perfection ! " 
 
 So afterwards Nerissa to Grratiano, — " You should have 
 been respective, and have kept it" (the ring), — that is, you 
 should have been mindful (of your promise or oath). 
 
 551. And drop my hlood. — Expend my blood in drops. 
 
 551. Than to taring. — Althougli had rather (Vid. 54 and 
 57), being regarded as of the nature of an auxiliary A^erb, 
 does not in modern English take a to with the verb that 
 foUoAvs it (F'id. 1), it does so here in virtue of being 
 equivalent in sense to tvoiild or should prefer. 
 
 551. Bg any indirection — Indirectness, as we should 
 noAV say.
 
 8C. 3.] jrLius c.TSAR. 209 
 
 551. To lock sueJi rascal counters. — As to lock. lid. 
 408. Rascal means despicable. It is an Original English 
 word, properly signifying a lean ^vortliless deer. 
 
 551. Be ready, gods, etc. — I cannot think that ]Mr 
 Collier has improved this passage by removing the comma 
 ■R-hich 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." 
 
 551. Dash Mm to pieces. — This is probably to be under- 
 stood as the infinitive (governed by the preceding verb he 
 ready) with the customary fo omitte^. Vid. 1. 
 
 554. Brutus Jiatli rived my heart. — Vid. 107. 
 
 559. 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." 
 
 560. Bevenge yourselves alo7ie 07i Cassius. In this line 
 and the next we have Cassius used first as a trisyllable 
 and immediately after as a dissyllable. 
 
 560. For Cassius is aweary of the icorld. — Whatever 
 may be its origin or proper meaning, many words were 
 in the habit of occasionally taking o as a prefix in the 
 earliest period of the language. Thence we have our 
 modern English, arise, aroxise, abide, aicait, au-ake, aweary, 
 etc. Some of the words which are thus lengthened, how- 
 ever, do not appear to have existed in the Original 
 English ; while, on the other hand, many ancient forms 
 of this kind are now lost. INIore or less of additional ex- 
 pressiveness 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 
 Unes, — Macbeth's "I 'gin to be aweary of the sun." — The 
 a here seems to be the same element that we have in the 
 " Tom's-a-co7J" of Bear, Hi. 4, and iv. 7, and also with the 
 an that we have in the " ^Hien I was an-hungered" of the
 
 300 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEIS'TAEY. [aCT IT. 
 
 New Testament, and Shakespeare's " They said thev 
 were an-hungry''' {Coriol. i. 4). 
 
 560. Conned hy rote. — The Original English connan, or 
 cunnan, signifj'ing to know, and also to be able, — its pro- 
 bable modification cunnian, to inquire, — and cennan, to 
 beget or bring forth, appear to have all come to be con- 
 founded in the breaking up of the old form of the lan- 
 guage, and then to have given rise to our modern ken, 
 and can, and co7i, and cunning, with meanings not at all 
 corresponding to those of the terms with which they 
 severally stand in pl^onetic connexion. 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 11th 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 meaning 
 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 modem date. ... In 
 Scotland these words are still in full ciu-rency." But 
 the meaning of to Icen 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 e'i^w (olSa) and et^iw. Cunning, 
 again, instead of being the wisdom resulting from in- 
 vestigation 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 abso- 
 lute deceit or falsehood. 
 
 As for con its common meaning seems to be, not to
 
 sc. 3.] jrLius c.t:sae. 301 
 
 know, but to get by heart, that is, to acquire a knowledge 
 of in the most complete manner possible. And to con hy 
 rote is to commit to memory by an operation of mind 
 similar to the turning of a wheel {rota), or by frequent 
 repetition. Sote is the same word with routine. 
 
 It is more difficult to explain the expression to con 
 tJianks, 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 
 Gurtoii's Needle in Collier's edition of Doclslci/'s Old 
 Plays, II. 30. Con in the present passage may perhaps 
 mean to utter or repeat ; such a sense might come not 
 imnatvu-ally out of the common use of the word in the 
 sense of to get by heart. The case would be somewhat 
 like that of the two senses assigned to the same word in 
 the expressions "to construct a sentence" and "to con- 
 strue a sentence." It is remarkable that in German also 
 they say Dank icissen (literally to know thanks) for to 
 give thanks. 
 
 Our common Icnow is not from any of the Original 
 English 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 modem German kennen, 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 
 ancient cyng, cyncg, or cijning, can have anything to do 
 with either cennan or connan. It is apparently of quite 
 another family, that of which the head is cgn, nation, off- 
 spi'ing, whence our present kin, and kindred, and kind 
 (both the substantive and the adjective). 
 
 560. Dearer than Plutus' mine. — Dear must here be
 
 302 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT IY. 
 
 understood, not in the derived sense of beloved, but in 
 its literal sense oi precious or of value. Vid. 349. It is 
 " Pluto'' s mine" in all the Folios, and also in Eowe ; nor 
 does it appear that the mistake is corrected by Mr Collier's 
 MS. annotator, although it is, of coiu-se, in Mr Collier's 
 regulated text. 
 
 5Q0. If thai thou heest a 'Roman. — Our modern sub- 
 stantive verb, as it is called, is made up of fragments of 
 several verbs, of which, at the least, am, was, 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 T^ng. Lang. 3rd edit. 346). In the original 
 form of the language we have eom (sometimes ani), waes 
 (with waere and wueron, and wesan, and gewesen'), leo 
 (with hist or hyst, heodh, bedn, etc.), eari (or eardh), is 
 (or gs) ; and also sg, seo, sig, sgnd, 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 English of the 
 times before the Conquest of our modern plural are. 
 Beest, which we have here, is not to be confounded with 
 the subjunctive be; it is bist, htjst, the 2nd pers. sing, 
 pres. indie, of heon, to be. It is now obsolete, but is 
 also used by Milton in a famous passage: — " If thou becst 
 he ; but oh how fallen! how changed," etc. P. L. i. 84. 
 
 561. Dishonour shall be humour. — Vid. 205. — Any in- 
 dignity 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 568. The word had scarcely acquired 
 in Shakespeare's age the sense in which it is now com- 
 monly used as a name for a certain mental faculty or 
 quality ; though its companion loit had already, as we 
 have seen, come to be so employed. Vid. 436. But what if 
 the true reading should be " dishonour shall be honour?'' 
 
 5G1. Cassius, you are yoked ivith a lamb. — Pope prints,
 
 SC, 3.] JTJLIUS C.^JSAE. 303 
 
 on conjecture, "-witli a man;'' and "alamb," at any rate, 
 can hardly be right. 
 
 562. Blood ill-tempered. — "We have now lost the power 
 of characterizing the blood as ill-tempered (except in imita- 
 tation 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 im- 
 port, to characterize anything the various component in- 
 gredients of which were not so mixed as duly to qualify 
 each other. 
 
 568. Have not you love enough to hear with me ? — This 
 is the reading of all the old copies, and is that adopted by 
 Mr Knight. Both the Variorum text, v.hich is generally 
 followed, and also Mr Collier in his regidated text give 
 us " Have you not." 
 
 569. Yes, Casslus; and from henceforiJi . — All the in-egii- 
 larity that we have in this line is the slight and common 
 one of a superfluous short syllable (the ius of Ca&sius). 
 Steevens, in his dislike to even this much of freedom of 
 versification, and his precise grammatical spirit, would 
 strike out the from, as redundant in respect both of the 
 sense and of the measure. 
 
 569. He'll think your mother chides. — To chide is from 
 the ancient cid or cyd, signifying stiHfe or contention. 
 It is now scarcely in use except as an active verb with 
 the sense of to reprove with sharjDness; but it was formerly 
 used also absolutely or intransitively, as here, for to em- 
 ploy chiding or angry expressions. Shakespeare has both 
 to chide and to chide at. 
 
 Instead of the stage direction " Noise icithin," the 
 original edition has " Enter a Foet." 
 
 570. Pod \_within\ — The tvifhiii is inserted here and 
 before the next two speeches by the modern editors. —
 
 30-1 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT IT. 
 
 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 Pavonius, who affected to be a follower of Cato, 
 and to pass for a Cynic philosopher. And it will be ob- 
 served that he is called a Cynic in the dialogue. There 
 was probably no other authority than the Prompter's 
 book for designating him a Poet. 
 
 571. Lucil. [ivithiii]. You shall not come to them. — In 
 the Variorum and the other modern editions, although 
 they commonly make no distinction between the abbrevi- 
 ation 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 conclusive confirmation, if any were wanting, of 
 the restoration in 521. How is it that the modern editors 
 have one and all of them omitted to acknowledge the uni- 
 versal deviation here from the authority Avhich they all 
 profess to follow ? Not even Jennens notices it. 
 
 574. For L have seen viore years, I''m sure, than ye. — 
 Plutarch makes Pavonius exclaim, in the words of Nestor 
 in the First Book of the Iliad : — 
 
 'AXXd jriOtaQ'' ajK^to Si vnoTipu) larbv tfitlo' — 
 
 which North translates, 
 
 " My Lords, I pray you hearken both to me ; 
 For I have seen more years tlian 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 496. 
 
 575. Ifa, ha ; how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme! — 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 in use, as with then
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C^SAR. 305 
 
 (for iJian), and (for mi), and other words similarly circum- 
 stanced. 
 
 578. I^ll know Ms liumoiir ichenlie knows Jiis time. — In 
 this line "we have what the rule as commonly laid down 
 would make to he necessarily a short or unaccented syl- 
 lahle carrying a strong emphasis no fewer than four times : 
 — I'll — his — he — his. 
 
 578. Wifh these jigging fools.—'' That is," Malone 
 notes, " with these silly poets, A jig signified, in our 
 author's time, a metrical composition, as well as a dance." 
 Capell had proposed _y/»^Z/«y. 
 
 578. Companion, hence ! — 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 accompaniment, would ap- 
 pear to have heen rather that of inferiority than of equality. 
 A companion (or comes) was an attendant. The Comites 
 of the imperial court, whence our modern Counts or Earls, 
 and other nohility, were certainly not regarded as heing 
 the equals of the Emperor, any more than a Companion 
 to a lady is now looked ujDon as the equal of her mistress. 
 We have our modern felloio from the ancient native 
 felaio ; companion (with company) immediately from the 
 French compagnon and the Italian compagno, which have 
 been variously deduced from com-panis, coin-piaganus, com- 
 hino (Low Latin, from hinus), com-henno (one of two or 
 more riders in the same henna, or cart), etc. See 
 Menage, Die. JEfym. de la Langue Frang. But, after all, 
 Dr Webster may be right in what he says under the 
 word Company : — "From <??n«andpa;2n?/5, cloth, Teutonic 
 fahne, or vaan, a flag. The word denotes a band or 
 number of men under one flag or standard. Wliat de- 
 cides this question is, the Spanish mode of writing the 
 word with n tilde, titled n, compahia, for this is the 
 manner of writing pano, cloth; whereas panis, bread, is 
 written pan. The orthography of the word in the other
 
 303 PHILOLOGICAL COMMEKTAET. [aCT IT. 
 
 languages is confirmatoiy of this opinion." — "VYe have an 
 instance of the use of Companion in the same sense in 
 which we still commonly employ fellow eren in so late a 
 work as Smollett's Roderick Bcindom, published in 1748 : 
 — " The young ladies [Roderick's cousins], who thought 
 themselves too much concerned to contain themselves 
 any longer, set up their throats all together against my 
 protector [his nncle. Lieutenant Bowling]. 'Scurvy 
 companion ! Saucy tarpaulin ! Rude impertinent fellow ! 
 Did he think to prescribe to grandpapa !' " Vol. I. cJi. 3. 
 In considering this meaning of the terms co7npanion 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. 
 
 580. Lucilius and Titinius, hid the commanders. — The 
 only irregularity in the prosody of this line is the common 
 one of the one superfluous short syllable, the ins of 
 Titinius. 
 
 581. 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 perhaps be a question 
 as to the accentuation of the us. 
 
 589. Upon what sickness ? — That is, after or in con- 
 sequence of what sickness. It is the same use of upon 
 which we have in 458, and which is still familiar to us in 
 such phrases as " upon this," "upon that," "upon his 
 return," etc., though we no longer speak of a person 
 dying upon a particular sickness or disease. 
 
 590. Impatient of my absence; etc. — This speech is 
 throughout a striking exemplification of the tendency 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 expressive, sometimes, 
 with the grammar in a more or less chaotic or uncertain
 
 sc. 3.] JCLirs ciTSAR. 807 
 
 state. It does not matter much whether we talce grief to 
 he a nominative, or a second genitive governed by ivi' 
 patient. In principle, though not perhaps according to 
 rule and established usage, " Octavius jctVA Mark Antony" 
 is as much entitled to a plural verb as " Octavius and 
 Mark Antony." Tidings, which is a frequent word Avith 
 Shakespeare, is commonly used by him as a plural noun ; 
 in this same Play we have afterwards " these tidings" in 
 729 ; 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 sj-nonymous term news (the final s of wliich, 
 however, has been sometimes attempted to be accounted 
 for as a remnant of -ess or -ness, though its exact corre- 
 spondence in form with the French notiveUes, of the same 
 signification, would seem conclusively enough to indicate 
 what it really is). At any rate tiding and new (as a sub- 
 stantive) are both alike unknown to the language. 
 
 590. She fell distract. —In Shakespeare's day the 
 language possessed the three forms distracted, distract, 
 and distrauglit ; he uses them all. "We have now only 
 the first. 
 
 593. The original stage direction here is, " Enter Boy 
 with Wine and Tapers." The second ^^ Brinks" at the 
 end of 595 is modern ; and the '■^Re-enter Titinins," etc., 
 is " Enter," in the original. 
 
 596. And call in question. — Here we have probably 
 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. 
 
 598. Bending tlieir expedition. — Eather what we should 
 now call their inarcli (or onovement) — though perhaps im- 
 plying that they were pressing on — than their expedi- 
 tion (or enterpx'ise) . 
 
 599. Myself have letters. — We have now lost the right 
 
 X 2
 
 308 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENT ART. . [aCT IT. 
 
 of using such forms as either myself or himself as suiBcient 
 nominatives, though they still remain perfectly unobjec- 
 tionable accusatives. We can say " He struck myself," 
 and "I saw himself;" but it must be " I myself struck 
 him," and " He himself saw it." Here, as everywhere 
 else, in the original text the mj/self is in two words, " My 
 selfe." And tenour in all the Tolios, and also in both 
 Eowe's edition and Pope's, is tenure, a form of the word 
 which we now reserve for another sense. 
 
 601. That J)y proscription, and hills of oidlaiorij. — The 
 word outlawry taking the accent on the first syllable, 
 this line will be most naturally read by being regarded 
 as characterised by the common peculiarity of a super- 
 numerary short syllable — the tion or the and — to be dis- 
 posed 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 Csesar 
 on the neck. — you flatterers" (G90). It might, indeed, 
 be reduced to perfect regularity by the tion being dis- 
 ti'ibuted into a dissyllable — ti-on — , in which case the 
 prosody would be completed at out, and the two follow- 
 ing unaccented syllables would count for nothing (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 re- 
 gard to the dissyllabication of the tion or sion by Shake- 
 speare in the note on 216. She dreamt to-night she saw my 
 statue). Nay, even the running together of tlie 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 ratlicr combined with the hills, 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
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAE. 309 
 
 that a pavise, of whatever length, occurring in the course 
 of a verse can ever have anything of the prosodical effect 
 of a Avord or syllablb. 
 
 604. 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 Variorum edi- 
 tion presents the same arrangement, with the addition of 
 Ay as a prefix to the whole. " For the insertion of the 
 afiirmative adverb, to complete the verse," says Steevens 
 in a note, " I arii answerable." According to Jennens, 
 however, this addition was also made by Capell. In any 
 case, it is plain that, if we receive the Aij, we must make 
 two lines, the first ending ■ndth 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 expres- 
 sions 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 Brutus, — the " No, Messala" 
 of 605 ? 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 
 preferred, as haAang no distinct or precise prosodical cha- 
 racter whatever. Every sense of harmony and propriety, 
 however, revolts against running " Cicero is dead '* into 
 the same line with " And by that order," etc. 
 
 613. With meditating that she must die once. — For this 
 use of vnth see 363. — 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, interprets it as equivalent to " at some 
 time or other ;" and quotes in illustration, from The 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, Hi. 4, " I pray thee, once to-
 
 310 PIIILOLOaiCAL COMMENTARY. [aCT IT. 
 
 night Give my sweet Nan this ring." — The prosody of the 
 line is the same that has been noted in 426, 436, and 537. 
 
 615. / have as much of this in art as you, etc. — In art 
 Malone interprets to mean " in theory." It rather 
 signifies hj acquired knowledge, or learning, as dis- 
 tinguished from natural disposition. The passage is one 
 of the many in our old poets, more especially Shakespeare 
 and Spenser, running upon the I'elation between nature 
 and art. 
 
 616. Well, to our loorTc alive. — This' must mean, ap- 
 parently, let us proceed to our living business, to that 
 which concerns the living, not the dead. The commen- 
 tators say nothing, though the expression is certainly one 
 that needs explanation. 
 
 619. This it is. — •" The overflow of the metre," Steevens 
 observes, " and the disagreeable clash oi 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 
 jnay very possibly 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. 
 
 620. Good reasons must, of force. — "We scarcely now say 
 of force (for of necessity, or necessarily) ; although ^er/brce 
 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'erpowored such force as ours)." — 
 
 r. L. i. 145. 
 
 620. The enemy, marchiny alony hy them. — This line, 
 with the two weak syllables in the last places of two 
 continuous feet (the second and third) might seem at 
 first to be of the same kind with the one noted in 601.
 
 SC. 3.] JULirS CESAR. 311 
 
 But the important distinction is, that the first of the two 
 weak syllables here, the -y of enemy, would in any cii'- 
 cumstauces 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 character of a strong syllable when it is as far 
 removed frcJm the accented gj'llable of the word as the 
 nature of the verse requires. See Prolegomena, Sect. vi. 
 The dissonance .here, accordingly, is very slight in com- 
 parison with what we have in 601. — For " Along by 
 them" see 200. 
 
 620. By them shall maJce a fuller number up. — For this 
 use of shall see the note on Casar should he 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 345, 
 
 620. Come on refreshed, new-hearted, and encourayed. 
 — " 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 pos- 
 sible, whereas new-hearted is the very sort of word that, 
 one wovdd expect to find where it stands, in association 
 with refreshed and encouraged. 
 
 620. From lohich advantage shall we cut him off. — Shake- 
 speare most probably wi*ote we shall. 
 
 G22. Under your pardon Vld. 358. 
 
 622. We, at the height, etc. — Being at the height, are 
 in conseqiience ready to decline — as the tide begins to 
 recede as soon as it has attained the point of full flood. 
 
 622. Omitted. — The full resolution wiU be — which tide 
 being omitted to be taken at the flood. 
 
 623. Then, with your will, etc. — In the original edition
 
 312 PHILOLOGICAL COMilENTAKT. [aCI IV. 
 
 " "We'll along" is made part of the first Hue. Mr Collier 
 prints, it does not appear on what, or whether on any, 
 authority, " we will along," as had been done on con- 
 jecture by Eowe, Pope, and others. The " We'll along" 
 gives us merely the very common slight irregularity of a 
 single superabundant syllable. — " With your will" is 
 equivalent to With your cotisent; "We'll along" to We 
 will onward. But the passage is probably corrupt. 
 
 624. The deep of night is crept. — Vi'd. 374. This is 
 the reading of all the old copies. But Mr Collier prints 
 " has crept." 
 
 624. TVhich we will niggard. — Niggard is common 
 , 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 John- 
 son gives it in his Dictionary, " to stint, to supply spar- 
 ingly." 
 
 624. There is no more to sag. — 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 an- 
 nounce a house as to be let ; but that would rather mean 
 that it is going to be let. 
 
 625. Tlarlg to-morrow loill toe 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 : — " Will we rise," 
 — " will we hence." So, both with hence and home, in 
 the opening line of the Play : — 
 
 " Hence ; home, you idle creatures." 
 
 G2G. Lucius, my gown, etc. — The best way of treating 
 the conlniencement of this speech of Brutus is to regard 
 the words addressed to Lucius as one hemistich and 
 " Farewell, good Messala" as another. There are, in 
 fact, two speeclies. It is the same case that we have in 
 506. — In the old editions tlic stage directions are ; after 
 625, " Enter Lucius,'' and then, again, after 627, ^^ Enter
 
 sc. 3.] JULIUS cj;:sAR. 31:^ 
 
 Lucius with the gown.'" After 632 tliere is merely 
 ^^ Exeunt. '' 
 
 634, Poor hnave, I hlame tliee not ; thou art over- 
 watched. — For knave see 647. — 0' er-icatched, or over- 
 luatched, is used in this sense, of worn out with watching, 
 by other old wTiters as well as by Shakespeare, however 
 irreconcilable such an application 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." 
 
 634. Some other of my men. — B}^ some other v^e should 
 now mean some of a different sort. Tor some moi'e we 
 say S07ne others. But, although other thus used as a sub- 
 stantive, 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. 
 
 634. I'll have them sleep. — Such expressions as this, 
 which are still familiar, show that have ought to be added 
 to the verbs enumerated in the note on " You ought not 
 walk," in 1, which may be followed by another verb with- 
 out the prefix to. 
 
 635. Varro and Claudius .' — In the old copies it is 
 " Varrus and Claudio," both in the speech and in the 
 stage direction that follows. 
 
 637. I pray you, Sirs. — Common as the word Sir stiU 
 is, we have nearly lost the form Si?-s. It survives, how- 
 ever, in the Scottish dialect, with the pi'onunciation of 
 Sirce, as the usual address to a number of persons, much 
 as Masters was formerly in English, only that it is ap- 
 plied to women as well as to men. 
 
 639. Servants lie down. — This stage direction is 
 modern.
 
 314 PHTLOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT IT. 
 
 641. Canst thou hold up, etc. — This and the next line 
 are given in the Second Folio in the following blunder- 
 ing fashion, the result no doubt of an accidental displace- 
 m.ent of the types : — 
 
 " Canst tliou hold up thy instrument a straine or two. 
 And touch thy heavy eyes a- while." 
 
 The transposition is corrected by Mr Collier's MS. an- 
 notator. 
 
 645. I Jcnoio young hloods looTc. — Vid. 56. 
 
 647. It was loell done. — So in the old copies ; but the 
 Variorum edition has " It is," in which it has been follow- 
 ed by other modern editors, — though not by either Mr 
 Knight or Mr Collier. 
 
 647. Gentle knave, good night. — Knave, from the ancient 
 cnafa, or cnapa, having meant originally only a boy, and 
 meaning now only a rogue, was in Shakespeare's time 
 in current use with either signification. It was in its 
 state of transition from the one to the other, and con- 
 sequently of fluctuation between the two. The German 
 Knahe still retains the original sense. 
 
 647. I tvill not do thee so ?niich wrong to ivaJce thee. — 
 Vid. 408. 
 
 The stage direction " He sits down " is modern. 
 
 647. It comes upon me. — It advances upon me. 
 
 647. Speak to me what thou art. — "We scarcely now use 
 speak thus, for to announce or declare generally. 
 
 648, 649. 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 cannot be supposed 
 that Brutus laid his emphasis on thott. The regularities 
 of prosody are of necessity neglected in such brief utter- 
 ances, amounting in some cases to mere ejaculations or 
 little more, as make up the greater patt of the remainder 
 of tliis scene. 
 
 651. Well; then I shall see thee again i" — So the words
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAK. 315 
 
 stand in the old copies. Nothing whatever is gained by 
 printing the words in two lines, the first consisting only 
 of the M^ord Well, as is done by the generality of the 
 modem editors. 
 
 652. Ghost vanishes. — This stage direction is not in 
 the old editions. — Steevens has objected that the appa- 
 rition could not be at once the shade of Caesar and the 
 evil geniits of Brutus. Shakespeare's expression is the 
 evil spirit of Brutus, by which apparently is meant no- 
 thing more than a supernatural visitant of evil omen. At 
 any rate, the present apparition is afterAvards, in 774, 
 distinctly stated 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 ; " etc. 
 
 So, also, in Antony and Cleopatra, ii. G, — 
 
 " Since Julius Cajsar, 
 Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted." 
 
 Perhaps we might also refer to 744 : — 
 
 " Julius Csesar, th6u art mighty yet 
 Thy spiiit walks abroad," etc. ; 
 
 and to " Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge," in 363. 
 
 It may be well to append the two accounts of the inci- 
 dent 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 : — " Brutus boldly asked what he 
 was, a god or a man, and what cause brought him thither. 
 The spirit answered him, I am thy evil spirit, Brutus ; 
 and thou shalt see me by the city of Philippi. Brutus, 
 being no otherwise afiaid, replied again unto it, "Well,
 
 316 PHILOLOGICAL comm:entaet. [act it. 
 
 tlien, I shall see tliee again. The spirit presently vanish- 
 ed awaj ; and Brutus called his men unto him, who told 
 him that they heard no noise nor saw anything at all." 
 In the life of Coesar the account is as follows : — " Above 
 all, the ghost that appeared unto Brutus showed plainly 
 that the gods were offended with the murder of Caesar. 
 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 man- 
 ner 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 
 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 answer- 
 ed 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 A^anished 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 Cfesar. 
 
 653. Why, 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 afUrinative / shall 
 see thee appears to be converted into an intrrrogation in 
 651. 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 "Oxpo/jiai (I shall see thee). 
 
 G53. lioi/ ! Lucius! — Varro ! Claudius! — Here again,
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS C^SAE. 317 
 
 as in 635, all the Folios, in this and the next Hne, have 
 Vorriis and Chiudio. So also in 661. 
 
 661. Sleep again, Lucius, etc. — It is hardly necessary 
 to attempt to make verse of this. In the original text 
 FeUoio is made to stand as part of the first line. 
 
 669. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius. — Vid. 
 279. 
 
 660. £id him set on his powers betimes before. — The 
 only sense which the expression to set on now retains 
 is to excite or instigate to make an attack. The otlier 
 senses which it had in Shakespeare's day may be seen 
 from 27 (" Set on ; and leave no ceremony ont ") ; from 
 the passage before us, in which it means to lead forward 
 or set ont with ; from 714 (" Let them set on at once ") ; 
 from 746 (" Labeo and Flamis, set our battles on"). — 
 Betimes (meaning early) is commonly supposed to be a 
 corruption of by times, that is, it is said, by the proper 
 time. But this is far from satisfactory. Shakespeare has 
 occasionally hetime. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I.— The Plains of PMlippi. 
 
 Enter OcTAVirs, Aktoxt, and their Army. 
 
 671. Oct. Xow, Antony, our hopes arc 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 hefore we do demand of them. 
 
 672. Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know 
 TVTierefore they do it : they could be content
 
 31S PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [aCT V. 
 
 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. 
 
 674. Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, 
 Upon the left hand of the even field. 
 
 675. Oct. Upon the right hand I ; keep thou the left. 
 
 676. Ant. "WTiy do you cross me in this exigent ? 
 
 Oct. I do not cross you ; but I will do so. \_March. 
 
 Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, mid their Army ; Lociuus, 
 TiTiNius, Messala, and others. 
 
 678. Bru. They stand, and would have parley. 
 
 Cas. Stand fast, Titiiiius : "We must out and talk. 
 
 680. Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle ? 
 
 681. Ant. No, Ca?sar, 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. 
 
 Aiit. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words : 
 "Witness the hole you made in Ctesar's heart, 
 Crying, Long live I hail, Ccesar ! 
 687. Cas. Antony, 
 
 The posture of your blows are yet unknown ; 
 But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, 
 And leave them honeylcss. 
 
 Ant. Not stingless too. 
 
 Bru. 0, yes, and soundless too ; 
 For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, 
 And, very wisely, threat before you sting. 
 690. Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers 
 Hacked one another in tlie sides of Cicsar : 
 You showed your teeth like apes, and fawned like houiuls, 
 And bowed like l)ondmcn, kissing C;csar's feet; 
 "Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind. 
 Struck Cxsar on the neck. you flatterers !
 
 SC. 1.] JrLIUS CESAE. 319 
 
 691. Cas. Flatterers! — Now, Brutus, thank yourself: 
 This tongue had not offended so to-day, 
 
 If Cassius might have ruled. 
 
 692. 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 Csesar's three and thirty wounds 
 
 Be well avenged ; or till another Caesar 
 
 Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. 
 
 693. Bru. Cscsai", 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. 
 695. Bru. 0, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, 
 Young man, thou could' st not die more honourable. 
 
 Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, 
 Joined with a masker and a reveller. 
 
 Ant. Old Cassius still ! 
 698. Oct. Come, Antony; away. — 
 
 Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth ; 
 If you dare fight to-day, come to the field ; 
 If not, when you have stomachs. 
 
 [Exetint OCTAVIUS, Antony, a7id their Army. 
 
 Cas. Why now, blow, wind ; swell, billow ; and swim, bark I 
 The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. 
 700. Bru. Ho ! Lucilius ; hark, a word with you. 
 
 Lticil. My lord. [Brutcs and LuciLirs converse apart. 
 
 Cas. Messala, — 
 
 Mes. What says my general ? 
 704. 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 fi-om Sardis, on our former ensign 
 
 Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched, 
 
 Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ;
 
 320 PHILOLOGICAL COMJIEKTAEY. [aCT Y. 
 
 Wlio to Philippi here consorted us ; 
 
 This morning are tliey 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, imder which 
 
 Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. 
 Mes. Believe not so. 
 706. Cas. I but believe it partly ; 
 
 For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved 
 
 To meet all perils very constantly. 
 Bru. Even so, Lucilius. 
 70S. Cas. Now, most noble Brutus, 
 
 The gods to-day stand friendly ; that we may, 
 
 Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age ! 
 
 But, since the affairs of men rest still uncertain. 
 
 Let's reason with the worst that may befall. 
 
 If we do lose this battle, then is this 
 
 The very last time we shall speak together : 
 
 What are you then determined to do ? 
 709. 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 staf 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 Eome ? 
 711. 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, ant 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.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CJE3AE. 321 
 
 Br^u. Why then, lead on. — 0, that a man might know 
 The end of this day's business, ere it come ! 
 But it sufficeth, that the day will end, 
 And then the end is known. — Come, ho ! away ! [Exeunt. 
 
 The heading, — " Scene I. The plains of Pliilippi" — 
 is modern, as usual. 
 
 671. Their battles are at hand. — Battle is common in 
 our old writers with the sense of a division of an army, 
 or what might now be called a battalion. So again in 
 674. When employed more precisely the word means 
 the central or main division. 
 
 671. 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 com- 
 plaints were made, were warned to appear to make their 
 answers ; members were ivarned to attend the meetings 
 of the companies or other associations to which they be- 
 longed ; and in war either of the hostile parties, as here, 
 was said to be warned when in any way called upon or 
 appealed to by the other. Thus in King John, ii. 
 1, the citizens of Anglers, making their appearance in 
 answer to the French and English trumpets, exclaim, 
 "Who is it that hath teamed us to the walls?" The 
 word, which is connected with icare and wari/, is from the 
 Original English warnian. But the Anglo-Norman dia- 
 lect of the French has also garner and garnisher with the 
 same meaning. 
 
 672. With fearful bravery. — Malone's notion is, that 
 '■'■fearful is used here, as in many other places, in an 
 active sense, — producing fear — intimidating '"' But the 
 utmost, surely, that Antony can be understood to admit 
 is that their show of bravery Avas intended to intimidate. 
 It seems more consonant 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 expression is probably to be interpreted by the fol-
 
 322 PHILOLOGICAL C0iIME2fTAET. [aCT T. 
 
 lowing 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 suspicion in his heart, that he 
 thought his flight rather to proceed of 2, fearful guiltiness, 
 than of an humble faithfulness." 
 
 672. By this face. — By this show or pretence of 
 courage. 
 
 672. To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage. 
 — AVe have now lost the power of construing 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 as- 
 sert, to affirm, to declare, to swear, to convince, to inform, 
 to remember, 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. 
 
 674. Oetavius, lead your battle softly on. — Yid. 671. 
 
 674. Upon the left hand of the even field. — Does this 
 mean the smooth or level ground ? Or is not " the even 
 field" rather to be understood as meaning the even 
 ranks, the army as it stands before any part of it has be- 
 giin to advance, presenting one long unbroken line of 
 front ? I am not aware, however, of any other instance 
 of such an application of the term field, unless it may 
 be thought that we have one afterwards in the last line but 
 one of the present Play : — " So, call the field to rest." 
 
 675. Keep thou the left. — Eitson remarks; — "The 
 tenor of the conversation evidently requires us to read 
 you." He means, apparently, that you and your are the 
 words used elsewhere throughout the conversation. But 
 he forgets tliat the singular pronoun is peculiarly em- 
 phatic in this line, as being placed in contrast or oppoai-
 
 sc. 1.] JULira ciESAE. 323 
 
 tion to the I. It is true, however, that fJiou and yott 
 were apt to be mistaken for one another in old handwrit- 
 ing from the similarity of the characters used for tk and 
 y, which is such that the printers have in many cases 
 been led to represent the one by the other, giving us, for 
 instance, i/e for tJie, i/ereqf, or i/'^qf, for thereof, etc.* 
 
 676. Will/ do you cross me in this exirjent. — 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 Xares 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 
 extreme pressure. 
 
 678. Dru/m, etc. — " Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and 
 Others " is a modern addition to the heading here. 
 
 680. Shall we give sign of battle ? — We should now 
 say " give signal^ 
 
 681. IVe will answer on their charge. — AVe will wait 
 till they begin to make their advance. 
 
 681. Make forth. — To maTce, a word which is still used 
 
 * This confusion in vnriting between the th and the y is, I have 
 little doubt, what has given rise to such forms of expression as " The 
 more one has, the more he would have," " The more haste, the less 
 speed," etc. It is admitted that the the here cannot be the common 
 definite article. Vid. Latham, Eng. Lang. 239, 264, 282. Neither 
 in French nor in Italian is any article used in such cases. But it is 
 the German that shows us what the word really is. " Je mchr einer 
 hat, je mehr will er haben" is literally " Ever more one has, ever more 
 he would have." And je represented according to the English system 
 of spelling is ye. This is apparently what the pedantry of the book 
 language, misled by the ignorance of transcribers, has perverted into 
 our modern the. Je (or ye) is in fact the same word with our stiU not 
 unfamiliar aye, always. Very probably it is also the same with yea, 
 the adverb of aflii-mation. Always, or an equivalent term, would be in 
 most cases a natural enough expression of affirmation or assent. In 
 tlie word every, again, or ever'ye, as it was anciently spelled, we have 
 perhaps the opposite process of the conversion of the into ye ; for the 
 English " ever-y man" is, apparently, in form as well as in sense, the 
 German " je-c?^ mann." 
 
 y 2
 
 324 PUILOLOGICAL COilMEKTAET. [aCT V. 
 
 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. In preceding editions I had 
 hastily assumed that Antony's " Make forth ; the generals 
 would have some words " was addressed to the troops, in 
 which case Make forth would be a command to them to 
 advance against the enemy. Yet Antony, it was observed, 
 had just opposed the proposition of Octavius to give the 
 signal of battle, and declared his determination not to 
 move till the enemy should make their charge. I have 
 to thank the writer of a communication dated from 
 Victoria, in New South Wales, for calling my attention 
 to what is probably, after all, the sense in which the passage 
 is commonly understood, and at any rate approves itself 
 to be the true sense as soon as it is suggested. 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. 
 
 687. The posture of your blows are yet unknown. — This 
 is the reading of all the old copies. The grammatical 
 irregularity is still common. " Is yet " is the connection 
 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 evidently intended to express. 
 
 GOO. Whilst damned Casca. — This is the reading of all 
 the Folios. Mr Collier has While. 
 
 GOO. Struck Cassar on the neck. — you flatterers ! — 
 The word in the old text is strook (as in 34S). There is 
 the common prosodical irregularity of a superfluous short 
 syllable. Vid. GOl. 
 
 691. Flatterers ! — Now, Brutus, thank yourself. — The
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS C^SAE. 325 
 
 prosodical imperfection of this line consists in the want 
 of the first syllable. It is a hemistich consisting of four 
 feet and a half. 
 
 692. The proof of it. — That is, the proof of our argu- 
 ing. And by the proof must here be meant the arbitre- 
 ment of the sword to which it is the prologue or prelude. 
 It is by that that they are to prove what they have been 
 arguing or asserting. 
 
 692. Look ; 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 Anth 
 what follows. 
 
 692. Never, till Ccesar's three and thirty wounds. — Theo- 
 bald 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. 
 
 692. 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. annotator — " Have added slaughter 
 to the word of traitor ;" — which would seem to be an ad- 
 mission on the part of Octavius (impossible in the cir- 
 cumstances) that Brutus and Cassius were as yet free 
 from actual treasonable slaughter, and traitors only in 
 word or name. 
 
 693. CcEsar, thou canst not die hy traitors' hands. — In 
 the standard Varioriun edition, which is followed by 
 many modern reprints, this line is strangely given as 
 " Cifsar, thou canst not die by traitors." It is right in 
 all Mr Knight's and ]Mr Collier's editions. 
 
 695, O, if thou wert 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 Dryden, "W^alior, and
 
 326 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTABT. [aCT V. 
 
 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. 
 
 695. Tliou could'sf not die more honorable. — This is not 
 Shakespeare's usual form of expression, and we may be 
 allowed to suspect that he actually wrote honorably (or 
 honourahlie^ . 
 
 698. The original stage direction is, "Exit Octavius, 
 Antony, and Army." 
 
 700. Ho ! Lucilius ; etc. — This is given as one verse 
 in the original, and nothing is gained by printing the 
 So ! in another line by itself, as the modern editors do. 
 The verse is complete except that it wants the first 
 syllable, — a natural peculiarity of an abrupt commence- 
 ment or rejoinder. So in 691. — In the original edition 
 this speech is followed by the stage direction " Lucillius 
 and Messala stand forth ; " and there is no other after 
 701. 
 
 701;. As this very day. — AVe are still familiar with this 
 form of expression, at least in speaking. We may under- 
 stand it to mean As is, or as falls, this very day; or 
 rathar, perhaps, as if, or as it were, this very day. 
 
 70 i. Oil our former ensign. — Former is altered to 
 forward, it seems, by Mr Collier's MS. annotator ; and 
 the correction ought probably to be accepted. Former 
 would hardly be the natural word unless it were intend- 
 ed to be implied that there were only two ensigns or 
 standards. 
 
 701. Who to Philippi here consorted us. — Shakespeare's 
 usual syntax ia to consort with; but he has consort as an 
 active verb in other passages as well as here. 
 
 704. This morning are they fled away, and gone. — Vid. 
 374. 
 
 701. As we were sickly prey. — As if we were. — Vid. 57. 
 
 706. To meet all perils. — So in the First Folio. The 
 other Folios \iVi\e peril.
 
 SC. 1.] JULIUS CDSAE. 327 
 
 708. Lovers in peace. — Vid. 260. 
 
 708. But, since the affairs of men rest stilt, uncertain. — 
 '■'■ Rests still i7icertaine^' is the readincc in the orisrinal 
 
 O CD 
 
 edition. 
 
 708. Let's reasoji with the icorst that may befall. — The 
 abbreviation let's had not formerly the vulgar or slovenly 
 air which is conceived to unfit it now for dignified composi- 
 tion. We have had it twdce in Brutus's impressive ad- 
 dress, 187. Shakespeare, however, does not frequently 
 resort to it, — rather, one would say, avoids it. — To lefall 
 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. 
 
 709. Even by the rule, etc. — The pointing of this 
 passage in the early editions is amusing : — 
 
 " Even by the nde of that Philosophy, 
 By which 1 did blame Cato, for the death 
 WTiich he did give himselfe, I know not how : 
 But I do find it," 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, 
 which completely separates " I know not how," etc., 
 from what precedes, leaves the " by the rule " without 
 connexion or meaning. It is impossible to suppose that 
 Brutus can mean " I am determiaed to do by the rule of 
 that philsophy," etc. 
 
 709. 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 emendation of IMr 
 Collier's MS. annotator, and the same emendation had 
 also been made conjecturally by Capell, though it failed 
 to obtain the acquiescence of subsequent editors. For 
 to prevent see 147 and 161. " To prevent the term of life''' 
 says IMr Collier {Notes and Emendations, 403), " means, as
 
 328 PniLOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT Y. 
 
 Malone states, to anticipate tlie end of life ; but still he 
 strangely persevered in printing time for termr Did not 
 Mr Collier himself do the same thing ? 
 
 709. To stay tl.e providence of tliose 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 correction of Mr Collier's 
 MS. annotator, and might almost have been assumed on 
 conjecture to be the true word. 
 
 711. No, Cassius, no : etc. — There has been some con- 
 troversy about the reasoning of Brutus in this dialogue. 
 Both Steevens and Malone conceive that there is an in- 
 consistency between what he 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 witness 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 Eome 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 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, 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 greatest and chiefest [things] 
 amougst men are most uncertain, and tliat, 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
 
 SC. 2.] JULIUS CiESAR. 329 
 
 in the world, I trust \_trusfed'] (I know not how) a 
 certain rule of philosophy, by the which I did greatly 
 blame and reprove Cato for kUIing of himself, as being no 
 lawful nor godly act touching the gods, nor, concerning 
 men, valiant ; not to give place and yield to divine Provi- 
 dence, and not constantly and patiently to take what- 
 soever 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, addmg, as suited his purpose, 
 but refining or elevating everything, though sometimes 
 by the slightest touch, and so transmuting all into the 
 gold of poetry. 
 
 711. 3Inst end tliat worh the ides of Ilarch begun. — 
 Begun is the word in the old editions. Mr Collier has 
 began. The three last Folios all have " that Ides of 
 March begun." 
 
 SCENE II.— The same. The Field of Battle. 
 Alarum. — Enter Bkutus and Messala. 
 
 711. 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. Exeunt.
 
 330 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTABT. [aCX Y. 
 
 714. Give these hills. — These billets, as we should now 
 say; but Shakespeare takes the word which he found 
 in North's Plutarch : — " In the meantime 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 direc- 
 tions in regard to alarums, entries, etc., are aU in the 
 First Folio. 
 
 714. £ut cold demeanour in Octavius'' wing. — The ori- 
 ginal text has " Octavio's wing." In 716, however, it is 
 Octavius. 
 
 SCENE III. — The same. Another part of the field. 
 Alarums. — Enter Cassius a7id Titinixjs. 
 
 715. Cos. 0, 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. 
 
 716. Tit. 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. 
 
 717. Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; 
 Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord ! 
 
 Fly therefore, noble Cassius, fly far ofl". 
 
 Cas. Tliis hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius ; 
 Are those my tents, where I perceive the flre.^ 
 Tit. They are, my lord. 
 720. 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 
 Ami here again ; that I may rest assured, 
 Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
 
 SC. 3.] JULIUS CiESAE. 331 
 
 Tit. I will be here again even with a thought. [Exit. 
 
 722. 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 PiNDABUS. 
 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], my lord! 
 
 Cas. What news ? 
 
 725. 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 : — 0, he lights too : — 
 
 He's ta'en ; — and, hark ! [Shout. 
 
 They shout for joy. 
 
 726. Cas. Come down ; behold no more. 
 0, coward that I am, to live so long, 
 
 To see my best friend ta'en before my face 
 
 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 should'st attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath ! 
 
 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. — CtBsar, thou art revenged, 
 
 Even with the sword that killed thee. [Dies. 
 
 Pin. So, I am free ; yet would not so have been. 
 Durst I have done my will. Cassius ! 
 Far from this country Pindarus shall run, 
 Where never Eoman shall take note of him. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Titinius, with Messala. 
 
 72^. Mes. It is but change, Titinius ; for Octavius 
 Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, 
 As Cassius' legions are by Antony. 
 Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
 
 332 PHILOLOGICAL COilMENTAET. [aCT V 
 
 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. my heart ! 
 Mes, Is not that he ? 
 
 735. Tit. No, this was he, Messala; 
 
 But Cassius is no more. — setting sun ! 
 
 As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night, 
 
 So in his red blood Cassius' day is set ; 
 
 The sun of Eome is set ! Our day is gone ; 
 
 Clouds, dews, and dangers come ; our deeds are done ! 
 
 Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. 
 
 736. Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. 
 hateful Error ! Melancholy's child ! 
 
 Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 
 The things that are not .-' Error, soon conceived, 
 Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, 
 But kill'st the mother that engendered thee. 
 2'it. 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. 
 739. Tit. Hie you, Messala, 
 
 And I will seek for Pindarus the while. [Exit Messala. 
 
 Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius ? 
 
 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 tliee, 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, with Beutos, young Cato, 
 Stkato, Volumnius, and Lucilius. 
 
 Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie .'
 
 8C. 3.] JULIUS CiESAE. 333 
 
 741. Mes. Lo, yonder ; and Titinius mourning it 
 Brti. Titinius' face is upward. 
 Cato. He is slain. 
 
 744. Bru. Julius Csesar, thou art mi{»lity yet ! 
 Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords 
 
 In our own proper entrails. \_Loio alarums. 
 
 745. Cato. Brave Titinius ! 
 
 Look, whe'r he have not crowned dead Cassius ! 
 
 746. Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these ? — 
 The last of all the Romans, fare thee well ! 
 
 It is impossible that ever Rome \ 
 
 Should breed thy fellow. — Friends, I owe moe tears 
 
 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 Fla\'ius, set our battles on : — 
 
 'Tis three o'clock ; and, Romans, yet e'er night 
 
 "We shall try fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt. 
 
 715. IJhis ensign here of mine was turning hack. — Here 
 the term ensign may almost be said to be used witli the 
 double meaning of both the standard and the standard- 
 bearer. 
 
 716. TooTc it too eagerly. — Follo^ved his advantage too 
 eagerly. — The prosody of this line, with its two super- 
 fluous syllables, well expresses the hurry and impetuosity 
 of the speaker. 
 
 717. Flij further off", etc. — This is the reading of the 
 old editions. Mr Collier, as usual, has farther. Further 
 and farther correspond to forth and far, which, however, 
 {F'id. 45) are only diverse forms of the same original word, 
 
 feor or forth. Accordingly here, in the next line but one, 
 we have " Cassius, Qyfar off." 
 
 720. Whether yond troops. — Vid. 65. 
 
 722. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill. — This is the 
 reading of the First Folio ; all the others have " get 
 hither." The staffe direction "Exit Findarus" is modern.
 
 334 PHiiOLoaiCAL commentaet. [act t. 
 
 722. Tliis day I hreathed first. — Compare this expres- 
 sion with what we have in 704 : — " As this very day "Was 
 Cassius born." 
 
 722. Time is come round. . . . Mi/ life is run his com- 
 pass. — Vid. 374. 
 
 722. 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 suppose, by some sign of 
 agitation on the part of Pindarus, will be felt if we will 
 try how the line would read with " 8ir, what news ? " 
 
 725. Titinius is enclosed round about, etc. — The me- 
 trical arrangement here given is the same that we have 
 in the First Folio. In many modern editions the follow- 
 ing new disposition of the lines is substituted, the contri- 
 vance of Steevens or some one of the other editors of the 
 latter part of the last century : — 
 
 " Titinius is 
 Enclosed round about with horsemen, that 
 Make to him on the spur ; — yet he spm-s on. — 
 Now they are almost on him : now, Titinius ! 
 Now some light : — 0, he lights too : — he's ta'en ; and, hark ! 
 They shout for joy." 
 
 This alteration (made without notice) improves nothing, 
 but seriously injures .nearly every line over which it 
 extends. And it also gives ixs a difterent prosodical 
 manner from that which prevails throughout the present 
 Play. 
 
 725. With horsemen that malce to him on the spur. — 
 One of the applications of the verb to make wliich we 
 have now lost. — Vid. 681. 
 
 725. Now, Titinius ! Now some light : 0, he lights too. 
 — It may be doubted whether the verb to light or alight 
 have any connexion with either the substantive or the
 
 SC. 3.] JITLirS CiESAE. 335 
 
 adjective liglt. There evidently vras, 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 ■\vith a fierce reflux on me redound ; 
 On me, as on their natural centre, ligJit 
 Heavy." — Par. Lost, x. 741. 
 
 The prosodical irregularity of the present line is not 
 greater than that of the " Xow some light : 0, he lights 
 too : — he's ta'en j and, hark ! " of the other arrangement. 
 In the original text, " He's ta'en " stands in a line by itself, 
 as frequentl}^ happens in that edition with words that 
 really belong to the preceding verse, and possibly, not- 
 vrithstanding their detached position, were intended to be 
 represented as belonging to it. 
 
 726. Take thou the hilts. — Formerly the hilts was 
 rather more common than the hilt. Shalcespeare uses 
 both forms. Silt is an Origmal Ensflish word, and is 
 connected, apparently, with heahlan, to hold. 
 
 726. Even ivith the sword that Mled tliee. — Vid. 363. 
 — The stage directions. Dies and Tlxit, are modern; 
 and for " Re-enter Titiiiius, with Messala" the old copies 
 have " JEnter,'" etc. 
 
 728. It is but change. — The battle is only a succession of 
 alternations or vicissitudes. 
 
 735. iVb, this was he, Messala. — "With the emphasis on 
 u-as. 
 
 7 So. As in thy red rays thou dost sinTc to night. — The 
 to night here seems to be generally understood as mean- 
 ing 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
 
 ^■i 
 
 336 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT Y. 
 
 colourless dulness of the coming night is contrasted with 
 the red glow in which the luminary is descending. " O 
 setting sun, Thou dost sink," meaning 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 descending. 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. 
 
 735, 736. 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 ex- 
 pression 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 apostro- 
 phizing Cassius, " Alas, thou hast misconstrued every- 
 thing."— FiW. 229. 
 
 736. O hateful Error ! Melanchohf s child ! — Error and 
 Melancholy are personages, and the words are proper 
 names, here. 
 
 736. To the apt thoughts of men. — Vid. 345. 
 
 739. Hie yon, Messala.—Vid. 139. 
 
 739. And I loill seek for Pindarus the while. — "We 
 are still familiar enough with the while, for meanwhile, 
 or in the meantime, 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, " jExit Messala,^^ is modem. 
 
 739. And hid me give it thee ? etc. — This is no Alex- 
 andrine, but only a common heroic verse with two super- 
 numerary short syllables.
 
 SC. 3.] JULIU9 CiESAE. 337 
 
 739. But hold thee. — Equivalent to our modem But 
 hold, or but stop. 
 
 739. Brutus, come apace. — Apace is literally at, or 
 rather on, pace ; that is, by the exertion of all your power 
 of pacing, Vid. 65. 
 
 739. jBy yotir leave, gods. — Vid. 358. The stage di- 
 rection that follows this speech in the original edition 
 is; — "Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala,yong Cato, Sfrafo, 
 Volumnius, and Bticillius." 
 
 741. Titinius moicrning it. An unusual construction 
 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 f mourning the person 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. 
 
 744. In our oivn proper entrails. — That is, info, as we 
 should now say. Vid. 122. 
 
 745. Zooh wheW he have not. — That is, " ivhether he 
 have not." Vid. 16. The word is here again priuted 
 "where " in the original edition. 
 
 746. Tlie 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 conjectui'al emenda- 
 tion of Eowe. 
 
 749. / oice moe tears. — Moe (or mo) is the word as it 
 stands in both the First and the Second Folio. Vid. 158. 
 
 746. To TJiassos send his hody.—Thassos is misprinted 
 Tharsus in all the Folios, and the error escaped both Eowe 
 and Pope. Nor does Mr Collier state that it is cor- 
 rected by his MS. annotator. Thassos was first substi- 
 tuted by Theobald, who reasons thus : — " Tharsus was a 
 town of Cilicia in Asia Minor ; and is it probable that 
 Brutus could think of sending Cassius's body thither out
 
 338 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAET. [aCT T. 
 
 of Thrace, "wliere they Tvere now encamped ? Thassos, on 
 the contrary, was a little isle lying close upon Thrace, 
 and at but a small distance from Philippi, to which the 
 body might very commodiously be transported. Fid. 
 Plutarch, Appian, Dion Cassius, etc." It is sufficient to 
 say that Thassos is the place mentioned by Plutarch (in 
 his life of Brutus) as that to which the body was sent to 
 be iiiteiTed, and that the name, as Steevens has noted, 
 is correctly given ia North's translation, which Shake- 
 speare had before him. 
 
 746. His funerals. — As we still saj niiptials, so they 
 formerly often said funerals. So funeraiUes in French 
 and yimerff in Latin. On the other hand, Shakespeare's 
 word is always nuptial. Nuptials occurs only in one 
 passage of the very corrupt text of Pericles : — " We'll 
 celebrate their nuptials " (v. 3), and in one other passage 
 of Othello as it stands in the Quarto, — " It is the celebra- 
 tion of his nuptials (ii. 2) —where, however, all the other 
 old copies have nuptial, as elsewhere. 
 
 746. Laheo and Flavins, etc. — In the First Folio, 
 " Lahio and Flaoio ; " in the others, " Lahio and Flavius.''' 
 
 For " set our battles on " see 669. 
 
 746. ^Tis three o'clock. — In the original edition, " three 
 a clocke." Vid. 85. 
 
 SCENE IV.— Another part of the Field. 
 
 Alarum. — Enter, fighting. Soldiers of both Armies ; then Brutus, 
 Cato, Lucilius, and others. 
 
 Bru. Yet, countrymen, 0, yet hold up your headf? ! 
 748. Cato. What bastard doth not ? "Who will go with me ? 
 I will proclaim my name about the field : — 
 I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! 
 A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend. 
 I am the son of Marcus Cato, lio ! [^Charges the enemy, 
 
 Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I ;
 
 sc. 4.] JULIUS c.t:sae. 339 
 
 Brutus, my country's friend ; know me for Brutus. 
 
 [Exitj charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls 
 Lttcil. young and noble Cato, art thou down ? 
 "WTiy, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ; 
 And may'st be honoured being Cato's son. 
 
 1 Sold, Yield, or thou diest. 
 752. Lucil. Only I yield to die : 
 
 There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight ; 
 
 [Offer hig money. 
 Kill Brutus, and be honoured in his death. 
 7-33. 1 Sold. "We must not. — A noble prisoner ! 
 
 2 Sold. Eoom, ho ! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. 
 7o5. 1 Sold. I'll tell the news. — Here comes the general: — 
 
 Enter Axtont. 
 
 Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord. 
 
 Ant. "WTiere is he ? 
 
 Ltccil. Safe, Antony ; Brutus is safe enough : 
 I dare assure thee, that no enemy 
 Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus : 
 The gods defend him from so great a shame ! 
 "WTien you do find him, or alive or dead, 
 He will be found like Brutus, like himself. 
 758. 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. 
 
 All that -^e have in the Folios for the heading of this 
 Scene is, " Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lu- 
 cilius, and Flavins.'''' And the only stage directions that 
 we have throughout the Scene are " Enter Soldiers, and 
 figlit''' immediately before the speech of Brutus (7-47), 
 and the " Exeunt " at the end. 
 
 748. What lastard doth not?— Fid. 177. 
 
 752. Tliere is so much, that thou wilt kill me 
 straight. The evident meaning of these words has 
 z 2
 
 340 PHILOLOaiCAL COMMENTAET. [aCT T. 
 
 strangely escaped tlie acuteness of TVarburton, whose 
 interpretation (1747) is : — " So mucli 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 Bevisal of Shakespeare' s Text, 1765) : — " There 
 is so much money for thee, on condition that thou wilt 
 kill me straight." 
 
 753. We must not. — A noMe prisoner ! — The original 
 edition places the entry of Antony immediately after this 
 speech. 
 
 755. ril tell the news. — This is the conjectural emend- 
 ation of Theobald. Ail the Folios, and also both Eowe 
 and Pope, have thee for the. Mr Collier adopts the 
 emendation. 
 
 758. And see lohe'r JBrutus he alive or dead. — Vid. 16 
 and 745. It is " where " again in the original text. 
 
 758. How everything is chanced. — Vid. 69 and 374. 
 
 SCENE v.— Another part of the Field. 
 Enter Brutus, Daedanius, Clitus, Stkato, and Voltjmnius. 
 
 Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. 
 
 Cli. Statilius showed the torch-light ; but, my lord, 
 He came not back ; he is or ta'en, or slain. 
 761. 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 ratlier kill myself. 
 
 Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius ! [Whispers him. 
 
 Dar. Shall I do such a deed.!" 
 
 Cli. 0, Dardanius! 
 
 Dar. 0, Clitus ! 
 
 Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee ? 
 
 Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. 
 771. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, 
 That it runs over even at his eyes.
 
 SC. 5.] JULIUS CiESAE. 341 
 
 Bnt. Come hither, good Volumnius ; list a ■word. 
 
 Vol. What says my lord ? 
 774. Bru. Why, this, Volumnius: 
 
 The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me 
 Two several times by night : at Sardis, once ; 
 And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. 
 I know my hour is come. 
 
 Vol. Not so, my lord. 
 776. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. 
 
 Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes ; 
 
 Our enemies have beat us to the pit : [Low Alarums. 
 
 It is more worthy to leap in ourselves 
 
 Then 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. 
 
 778. Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. 
 
 779. Bru. Farewell to you ; — and you ; — and you, Volumnius. — 
 Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep ; 
 
 Farewell to thee too, Strato. — Countrymen, 
 
 My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life, 
 
 I found no man but he was true to me. 
 
 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 labom-ed to attain this hour, 
 
 [Alarum. Cry within; Fly, fly, fly. 
 
 Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. 
 781. Brti. Hence ; I will follow. 
 
 [Exeunt Clitus, Dakdanius, a7id 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 honour in it : 
 Hold, then, my sword, and turn away thy face 
 While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato ? 
 
 Stra. Give me your hand first : Fare you well, my lord. 
 
 Bru. Farewell, good Strato. — Ca3sar, now be still : 
 I killed not thee with half so good a will. 
 
 [He 7-uns on his sword and dies
 
 342 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTABT. [aCT 
 
 Alarum, — Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, 
 LuciLics, 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 honour by his death. 
 
 Lucil. So Brutus should be found.— I thank thee, Brutus, 
 That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. 
 
 788, Oct. AH that served Brutus, I will entertain them. 
 Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me ? 
 
 789. Stra, Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. 
 Oct. Do so, good Messala. 
 
 791. Mes. How died my master, Strato ? 
 
 Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. 
 
 793. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, 
 That did the latest service to my master. 
 
 794. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all : 
 All the conspirators, save only he. 
 
 Did that they did in envy of great Csesar ; 
 
 He only, in a generous honest thought 
 
 Of common good to all, made one of them. 
 
 His life was gentle ; and the elements 
 
 So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up, 
 
 And say to all the world, This was a man ! 
 
 795. Oct. According to his virtue let us use him. 
 With all respect and rites of burial. 
 Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, 
 Most like a soldier, ordered honourably. — 
 So, call the field to rest ; and let's away. 
 
 To part the glories of this happy day. \_Exeunt. 
 
 The heading of Scene V., with the locality, is, as usual, 
 modern. 
 
 761. Sit thee down. — In tliis common phrase, appar- 
 ently, 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 765, thee has usurped the function
 
 SC. 5.] JULIUS CiESAE. 343 
 
 of tJiou. We have a similar irregularity in Fare (that ia, 
 go) thee well. — The marginal " Whisperiiig" at this 
 speech is modern ; and so is the " Whispers him " at 765. 
 
 771. Tliat it runs over. — So that, as in 15. 
 
 774. Here in Philippijields. — A common enough form 
 of expression ; as Chelsea Fields, Kensington Gardens. 
 There is no need of an apostrophe to Philippi. 
 
 776. Hold thou my sword hilts. — Fid. 726. 
 
 778. There is no tarrying here. — So in Macheth, v. 5, 
 " There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here." The ex- 
 pression is from North's Plutarch : — " Volumnius denied 
 his request, and so did many others. And, amongst the 
 rest, one of them said, there teas no tarrying for them 
 there, but that they must needs fly." 
 
 779. Farewell to you; — etc. — Mr Collier appends the 
 stage direction, " Shaking hands severally." 
 
 779. Farewell to thee too, Strato. — In all the Folios this 
 stands ; — " Farewell to thee, to Strato." The correction 
 is one of the many made by Theobald which have been 
 imiversally acquiesced in. It appears to have escaped 
 ]VIr Collier's MS. annotator. 
 
 781. Hence ; I will follow. — This is the reading of all 
 the old copies. Pope added thee, in order to make a com- 
 plete line of the two hemistichs. — The " Fzeunt Clitus," 
 etc., is modem. 
 
 781. Thou art afelloiv of a good respect. — Vid. 48. 
 
 781. TJiy life hath had some smatch of honour in it. — 
 Smatch is only another form of smack, meaning taste. 
 Smack is the word which Shakespeare commonly uses, 
 both as noun and verb. 
 
 In the early editions, the stage direction after the last 
 speech of Brutus (783) is, simply, " Dies ;" and in the 
 JEntry that follows Antony is placed before Octavius, and 
 " their Army" is " the Army." 
 
 788. I will entertain the?n. — Eeceive them into my 
 senice.
 
 344 pniLOLoaiCAL commektaet. [act v. 
 
 788. Wilt thou bestow tJiy time with me ? — Here is 
 another sense of bestow, in addition to that in 139, which 
 is now lost. Sestow thy time with me means give up thy 
 time to me. 
 
 789. If Messala will prefer me to you. — "To prefer," 
 E-eed 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 Launce% 
 lot,— 
 
 " Sliylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, 
 ^d hath preferred thee." 
 
 But to prefer 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 some- 
 thing of promotion may be seen from what Bassanio goes 
 ou 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 Shake- 
 speare continued current down to a considerably later 
 date. Thus, Clarendon writes of Lord Cottiugton : — 
 " His mother was a Stafford, nearly allied to Sir Edward 
 Stafford ; . . . by whom this gentleman was brought up, 
 . . . and by him recommended to Sir Eobert Cecil . . . ; 
 wlio preferred him to Sir Charles Cornwallis, when he 
 went ambassador into Spain ; where he remained for the 
 space of eleven or twelve years in the condition of Secre- 
 tary or Agent, without ever returning into England in all 
 that time" {Hist., Book xiii.). 
 
 At an earlier date, again, we have Bacon, in the Dedica- 
 tion of the first edition of his Essays to his brother An- 
 thony, thus writing: — Since they would not stay with 
 their master, but would needs travail abroad, I have pre-
 
 SC. 5.] . JULIUS C^SAE. 345 
 
 feired them to you, that are next myself, dedicating them, 
 such as they are, to our love," &c. 
 
 791. Hoio died my master, Strato ? — So the First Folio. 
 The Second, by a misprint, omits master. The Third and 
 Foiu-th have " my lord." 
 
 793. Octavius, then take liim, 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. Vid. 
 789. 
 
 794. He only, in a generous nonest thoiiglit Of comonon 
 good, etc. — We are indebted for this reading to Mr 
 Collier's MS. annotator. It is surely a great improve- 
 ment upon the old text — 
 
 " He only in a general honest thouglit, 
 And common good to all, made one of them." 
 
 To act " in a general honest thought " is perhaps in- 
 telligible, though barely so; but, besides the tautology 
 which must be admitted on the common interpretation, 
 what is to act in " a common good to all ? " 
 
 794. Made one of them. — In this still familiar idiom made 
 is equivalent to formed, constituted, and one must be con- 
 sidered as the accusative governed by it. Fecit unum ex 
 eis, or eorum (by joining himself to them). 
 
 Here is the prose of Plutarch, as translated by North, 
 out of which this poetry has been wrought : — " 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 think- 
 ing the act commendable of itself; but that all the other 
 conspirators did conspire his death for some private malice 
 or envy that they otherwise did bear unto him." 
 
 794. Sis life was gentle; and the elejnents, 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
 
 31G PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTAEY [aCT V. 
 
 of the sixteenth century (according to Ritson, Bihl. Poet., 
 under the title of " Ilortemeriados. . . . Printed by J. E. 
 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 1608, in which 
 it stands thus : — 
 
 " Such one he was (of him we boldly say) 
 In whose rich soul all sovereign powers did smt, 
 In whom in peace the elements aU lay 
 So mixt, as none could sovereignty impute ; 
 As aU 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." 
 
 In a subsequent edition published in 1619 it is re- 
 modelled as follows : — 
 
 " He was a man (then boldly dare to say) 
 In whose rich soul the virtues weU 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, who holds that Shakespeare's play of Julius 
 CcEsar was probably produced about 1607, 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 1619 had appeared in the original 
 poem, published, as he conceives, in 1598, had supposed 
 that Shakespeare had in this instance deigned to imitate 
 or borrow from his contemporary. 
 
 795. 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.^^
 
 INDEX. 
 
 a-, an-, 560. 
 
 abide, 327. 
 
 aboard, 65. 
 
 aby, 327. 
 
 addressed, 300. 
 
 advantage, 358. 
 
 afeard, 244. 
 
 aim, 57. 
 
 alderliefest, 54. 
 
 alight, 725. 
 
 alive, 65. 
 
 all over, 175. 
 
 aloft, 65. 
 
 along by, 200. 
 
 an, 15. 
 
 and (an), 89,575. 
 
 apace, 739. 
 
 apparent, 194. 
 
 approve, 147. 
 
 apt, 345. 
 
 aptitude, 345. 
 
 are, 129, 560. 
 
 arrive, 54. 
 
 art (s.), 615. 
 
 art (v.), 560. 
 
 as, 44, 57, 177, 329, 
 
 408, 704. 
 as well, 56. 
 ascended (is), 321. 
 aside, 65. 
 assembly, 246. 
 astir, 252. 
 at, 508. 
 Ate, 363. 
 attempered, 562. 
 augurur, 194, 
 aweary, etc., 560. 
 ay, 54, 530. 
 ay me !, 279. 
 aye, 675. 
 
 bad, 349. 
 bait, 529, 5C0. 
 ban, 349. 
 bane, 349. 
 
 base, 147, 349. 
 bastard, 177. 
 bate, 529, 530. 
 battle, 671. 
 bay, 349, 529, 530. 
 be, 560. 
 be (are), 67. 
 be-, 390, 460. 
 bear hard, 105. 
 become, 390. 
 been, 269. 
 beest, 560. 
 befall, 69, 708. 
 behaviours, 45. 
 beholden, 390. 
 believe, 390. 
 beUke, 460. 
 belong, 390. 
 beloved, 390. 
 beseech, 390. 
 beshrew, 186. 
 beside, 348. 
 bestow, 139, 783. 
 betimes, 669. 
 betoken, 390. 
 bid, 1. 
 bills, 714. 
 bloods, 56. 
 bough, 349. 
 bow, 349. 
 break with, 1S2 
 bring, 106. 
 brook, 56. 
 business, 496. 
 bustle, 267. 
 busy, 267. 
 by, 124, 345. 
 
 can, 1, 560. 
 carrion, 177. 
 cast. 122. 
 cause, 1. 
 cautel, 177. 
 cautelous, 177. 
 censor, 329. 
 
 censorship, 329. 
 censure, 329, 375. 
 census, 329. 
 ceremonies, 16, 19i 
 chance, 69. 
 characterv. 214. 
 charm, 209. 
 chew, 57- 
 chide, 569. 
 clean, 110. 
 clever, 348. 
 colour, 147 
 come home, 104. 
 comfort, 211. 
 command, 279. 
 commend, 279. 
 commerce, 525. 
 compact, 352. 
 companion, 578. 
 company, 578. 
 con, 560. 
 conceit, 142. 
 conclude, 249. 
 condemn to, 525. 
 condition, 205. 
 consort, 704. 
 constant, 263, 310 
 construct, 560. 
 construe, 560. 
 content, 519. 
 continence, 54. 
 contrite, 260. 
 contrive, 260. 
 council, 263, 498. 
 counsel, 263, 498. 
 countenance, 54. 
 court, 305. 
 courteous, 305. 
 courtesies, 305. 
 creature, 181. 
 cunning, 560. 
 curse, 1S6. 
 curst, 186. 
 cui-t'sies, 305.
 
 348 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 damage, 147. 
 danger, 147. 
 dare, 1. 
 dear, 349, 560. 
 dearth, 349. 
 decent, 16. 
 deck, 16. 
 decorate, 16. 
 deem, 329. 
 degrees, 147. 
 deliberate, 348. 
 deliver, 348. 
 dent, 426. 
 desire, 307- 
 die, 16. 
 difference, 45. 
 dint, 426. 
 direct, 300. 
 disserve, 525. 
 distract, 590. 
 distraught, 590. 
 do, 1, 16, 147, 
 
 387, 503. 
 doom, 329. 
 dotage, 305. 
 dote, 305. 
 dress, 300. 
 drizzle, 233. 
 drown, 128. 
 
 early, 494. 
 earn, 259. 
 earnest, 259. 
 -ed, 16, 246. 
 either, 227. 
 element, 130. 
 emulation, 260. 
 endure, 1. 
 enforce, 377. 
 enlarge, 519. 
 ensign, 715. 
 entertain, 788. 
 envy, 187. 
 ere, 494. 
 errand, 494. 
 errant, 494. 
 erroneous, 494. 
 error, 494. 
 esteem, 57. 
 every, 675. 
 exigent, 676. 
 exorcise, 221. 
 expedition, 598. 
 
 factious, 129. 
 
 229, 
 
 fall, 177, 359, 508, 708. 
 fantasy, 194. 
 far, 48, 717. 
 fare thee, 761. 
 farther, 45, 717. 
 fasten, 672. 
 fault, 120, 143. 
 favour, 54, 130, 160. 
 favoured, 54. 
 fear, 190, 244. 
 fearful, 672. 
 fellow, 578. 
 feverous, 130. 
 field, 674. 
 fire, 346. 
 firm, 107. 
 fleer, 129. 
 flourish, 283. 
 fond, 305. 
 • fondling, 305. 
 forbid, 1. 
 force, 209. 
 force (of), 620. 
 fore, 45. 
 
 foreign-built, 110. 
 forth, 45, 717. 
 fray, 267. 
 freedom, 307. 
 friend (to, at), 342. 
 friends (friend), 353. 
 from, 110, 194. 
 funerals, 746. 
 further, 45, 717. 
 
 garden, 143. 
 ge-, 390. 
 general, 147. 
 genius, 155. 
 get me, 278. 
 get thee gone, 261. 
 give sign, 680. 
 give way, 260. 
 given, 66. 
 glare, 109. 
 go along by, 200. 
 go to, 531, 
 gore, 426. 
 greet, 242. 
 griefs, 129, 436. 
 grievances, 129. 
 guess, 390 
 
 had best, 469. 
 
 had like, 57. 
 
 had rather, 67, 661. 
 
 hail, 241. 
 
 hale, 241. 
 
 hand (at, in, on), 508. 
 
 handkerchief, 218. 
 
 hap, 69. 
 
 happen, 69. 
 
 happy, 69. 
 
 hark thee, 761. 
 
 have, 634. 
 
 havoc, 363. 
 
 he, 54. 
 
 health, 534. 
 
 heap, 109. 
 
 hear, 1. 
 
 hearse, 422. 
 
 heart's ease, 67. 
 
 heir, 194. 
 
 help, 1. 
 
 hence, 625. 
 
 her, 54. 
 
 herd, 128. 
 
 herself, 56. 
 
 hie, 139. 
 
 hilts, 726, 776. 
 
 hind, 128. 
 
 hinder, 161. 
 
 himself, 56, 599. 
 
 his, 54. 
 
 hit (it), 54. 
 
 home, 625. 
 
 home-, 110. 
 
 hour, 256. 
 
 however, 103. 
 
 hug, 139. [561. 
 
 humour, 105, 205, 240, 
 
 hurl, 2.33. 
 
 hurtle, 233. 
 
 I, 54. 
 
 I (me), 122. 
 idle, 177. 
 -ile, 25. 
 improve, 186. 
 in, 05, 122, 744. 
 incorporate, 134. 
 indirection, 551. 
 -iug, 1. 
 instance, 507 
 insupi)ressivc, 177. 
 intend, 1. 
 is, 560. 
 it, 54. 
 -ite, 25. 
 i' the, 53. 
 itching, 525.
 
 I5DEX. 
 
 849 
 
 its, 54. 
 itself, 54, 56. 
 -ius, 61, 502, 560. 
 
 jealous, 50, 57. 
 jig, 578. 
 justle, 233. 
 
 keep, 211. 
 ken, 560. 
 kerchief, 218. 
 kin, 560. 
 kind, 560. 
 kindred, 560, 
 king, 560. 
 knave, 647. 
 know, 560. 
 
 lament, 741. 
 lease, 363. 
 leash, 363. 
 let, 1, 363. 
 let's, 708. 
 liable, 67, 249. 
 lief, 54. 
 light, 725. 
 like, 57, 85, 259. 
 likely, 57. 
 likes, 105. 
 listen, 498. 
 lover, 186, 260. 
 
 main, 194. 
 
 make, 1,681,725,794. 
 
 make for, 295. 
 
 make to, 295. 
 
 manner, 45 
 
 mass, 408. 
 
 market, 525. 
 
 marry, 78. 
 
 mart, 525. 
 
 masters, 403, 637. 
 
 may, 1. 
 
 me, 89, 471. _ 
 
 mercantile, 25, 525. 
 
 merchant, 525. 
 
 merely, 45. 
 
 mettle, 102. 
 
 mind, 534. 
 
 mistook, 46. 
 
 moe, 158, 746. 
 
 mourn, 741. 
 
 must, 1. 
 
 my, 89, 205. 
 
 myself, 54, 56 599. 
 
 napery, 408. 
 
 napkin, 408. 
 neckerchief, 218. 
 news, 590. 
 nice, 524. 
 niggard, 624. 
 nor, 227. 
 not, 181. 
 nuptial, 746. 
 
 obsers^e, 539. 
 occupation, 89. 
 o'clock, 65. 
 of, 50, 129. 
 on, 50, 65. 
 once, 613. 
 o' nights, 65. 
 only, 56. 
 ope, 89. 
 or, 227. 
 orchard, 143. 
 order, 355. 
 o' the, 53. 
 other, 78. 
 others, 634. 
 ought, 1. 
 ourself, 56. 
 out, 8. 
 over, 283. 
 overwatched, 634. 
 owe, 1. 
 owed, 1. 
 own, 1. 
 
 palter, 177. 
 paramour, 186. 
 pass, 15. 
 passion, 46. 
 path, 161. 
 patience, 46. 
 perforce, 620. 
 piety, 346. 
 pious, 346. 
 piteous, 346. 
 pitiful, 346. 
 pity, 346. 
 plucked, 160. 
 portent, 246. 
 power, 127. 
 prebend, 498. 
 prefer, 789. 
 prepare, 256. 
 present, 57. 
 pretend, 65. [709. 
 
 prevent, 147, 161, 296, 
 
 prick, 352, 491. 
 proceed, 60. 
 proceeding, 249. 
 produce to, 355. 
 promised forth, 97. 
 proof, 147, 692. 
 proper, 12, 45. 
 provender, 498. 
 puissant, 304. 
 
 question, 377, 596. 
 quick, 267. 
 quite from, 194. 
 
 rascal, 551. 
 rathe, 54. 
 rather, 54. 
 recension, 329, 
 redress, 300. 
 regard, 37-0. 
 remorse, 147- 
 render, 249, 349, 371. 
 repeal, 306. 
 reprove, 186. 
 resolved, 339. 
 respect, 48, 375, 551. 
 retentive, 126. 
 rived, 107. 
 Kome, 56. 
 rostrum, 373. 
 rote, 560. 
 round, 147. 
 ruminate, 57. 
 rumour, 267. 
 
 scandal, 50. 
 scandalize, 50. 
 see, 1. 
 self, 54, 56. 
 sennet, 39. 
 sense, 498. 
 separate, 444. 
 set on, 225, 669. 
 sever, 444. 
 several, 444. 
 shake, 349. 
 shall, 1, 181, 238, 249, 
 
 351, 358, 491, 620. 
 she, 54. 
 shew, 186. 
 should, 56, 181, 238, 
 
 551. 
 shrew, 186. 
 shrewd, 186, 343. 
 shrewishness, 186
 
 350 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 sign, 680. 
 
 sin, 16. 
 
 sing, 16. 
 
 -sion, 246. 
 
 sirs, 637. 
 
 sit thee, 761. 
 
 sleek, 522. 
 
 sleep, 363. 
 
 slide, 522. 
 
 slight, 494, 522. 
 
 slink, 522. 
 
 slip, 363. 
 
 slips, 363. 
 
 sly, 522. 
 
 smatch, 781. 
 
 so, 15, 44, 57, 147, 408. 
 
 sooth, 268. 
 
 sore, 186. 
 
 sorrow, 186. 
 
 sorry, 186. 
 
 sort, 211. 
 
 sound, 128. 
 
 sour 186. 
 
 speak, 647. 
 
 stale, 50. 
 
 state, 50. 
 
 statue, 246. 
 
 stay, 709. 
 
 stirred, 252. 
 
 strain, 695. 
 
 strange-disposed, 110. 
 
 strew, 186. 
 
 stricken, 46, 253. 
 
 struck, 46, 253. 
 
 strucken, 253, 349. 
 
 suceeed, 229. 
 
 success, 229, 735, 736. 
 
 such, 57, 177. 
 
 sue, 283. 
 
 suit, 283. 
 
 suite, 283. 
 
 swagger, 107. 
 
 sway, 107, 353. 
 
 sweet, 267. 
 
 swing, 107. 
 
 swoon, 82, 83, 128. 
 
 tag-rag, 87. 
 taste, 498. 
 tempered, 562. 
 temple, 363. 
 tenure, 599. 
 terror, 190, 194. 
 th and y, 675. 
 than, 56, 575. 
 that, 15, 44, 57, 147, 
 
 177, 399. 
 thatch, 16. 
 the more, etc., 675. 
 themselves, 56. 
 then (than), 56. 
 there's, 135. 
 these, 57. 
 these many, 486. 
 thews, 124. 
 thigh, 124. 
 think, 147, 189. 
 this, 57. 
 this (time), 130. 
 this present, 57. 
 thou, 1. 
 
 thunderstone, 120. 
 thyself, 56. 
 tide, 363. 
 tidings, 590. 
 time, 363. 
 -tion, 246. 
 to, 1, 57, 551, 634. 
 toward, 53. 
 true man, 87- 
 
 unaccustomed, 194. 
 undergo, 130. 
 undcservers, 525. 
 unmeritable, 494. 
 upon, 589. 
 
 viands, 498. 
 vile, 575. 
 villain, 186. 
 
 virtue, 209. 
 vouchsafe, 1. 
 
 wave, 671. 
 
 warn, 671. 
 
 wary, 671. 
 
 was, 560. 
 
 wash, 333. 
 
 wave, 107. 
 
 weak, 267. 
 
 weep, 16. 
 
 weigh, 107, 
 
 well, 504. 
 
 were, wert, test, 469. 
 
 when ? 143. 
 
 whe'r, 16, 194, 745, 
 
 758. 
 which, 309, 377. 
 while (the), 739. 
 whiles, 67. 
 whirl, 233. 
 whit, 181. 
 wicked, 267. 
 wight, 181. 
 wiU, 1, 181, 238, 249, 
 
 491. 
 wis, V. ywis. 
 wit, 436, 561. 
 with, 124, 315, 363, 
 
 613. 
 withhold, 309. 
 worship, 504. 
 worth, 504. 
 would, 218. 
 wrote, 46. 
 
 y-, 390. 
 
 ye, 345. 
 
 yea, 675. 
 
 yearn, 259. 
 
 yon, yond, yonder, 65. 
 
 you, 345. 
 
 yourself, 56. 
 
 ywis, 390. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 JOHN CHILD8 AND BON, PRINTERS.
 
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