more

The first conditions, which they did refuse,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more; a very little
I have yielded to: Fresh embassies, and suits,
Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend car to.-Ha! what shout is this?
[Shout within.

Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the same time 'tis made? I will not.-

Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and At-With the consent of supreme Jove," inform tendants. Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st prove

My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand

3 How plainly is how openly, how remotely from artifice or concealment.

4 Virgilia makes a voluntary misinterpretration of her husband's words. He says, "These eyes are not the same," meaning that he saw things with other eyes, or other dispositions. She lays hold on the word eyes, to turn his attention on their present appearance.'Johnson.

5 As an unperfect aetor on the stage,

Who with his fear is put beside his part. Shakspeare's Twenty-third Sonnet. 6 Juno, the guardian of marriage, and consequently the avenger of connubial perfidy.

7 The hungry beach is the sterile beach; hungry soil, and hungry gravel, are common phrases. If it be necessary to seek a more recondite meaning, the shore hungry, or eager for shipwrecks, littus avarum, will

8 Though the scheme to solicit Coriolanus was ori-in ginally proposed by Valeria, Plutarch has allotted her no address when she appears with his wife and mother on this occasion. The poet has followed him. Some lady of the name of Valeria was one of the great ex

I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;
The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics :-Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.

Vol.

O, no more, no more!
You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our
raiment,'

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which

should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and

sorrow;

Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win; for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.

Ay, and on mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
Living to time.
Boy.
He shall not tread on me;
I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.
[Rising.
Vol.
Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd

1 This speech is very closely taken from North's Plutarch, the poet has done little more than throw the very words into blank verse.

For making up this peace! Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ,-The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wip'd it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

2 i. e. conclude, end. So in King Henry IV. Part ii. :'Tell thy friend sickness have determin'd me.' 3 Keeps me in a state of ignominy, talking to no purpose.'

4 i. e. does argue for us and our petition.

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs ?-Daughter, speak you :
He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy:
When she (poor hen!) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
|Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down; an end:
This is the last ;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold us:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Like him by chance:-Yet give us our despatch;
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.
Cor.
O mother, mother!
[Holding VOLUMNIA by the Hands, silent.
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome:
But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,

I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was mov'd withal.

Cor.

I dare be sworn, you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing, to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you
Stand to me in this cause.-O, mother! wife!

Auf. I am glad, thou hast set thy mercy and thy

honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.5
[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS
Cor.
Ay, by and by;
[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c.
But we will drink together; and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counterseal'd.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve

5 'I will take advantage of this concession to restore myself to my former credit and power.'

6 Farmer has suggested that we should perhaps read think. Shakspeare has however introduced drinking as a mark of confederation in King Henry IV. Part ii. :'Let's drink together friendly, and embrace.' The text therefore may be allowed to stand, though at the expense of female delicacy, which, in the present instance, has not been sufficiently consulted.

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.

Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon; he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patri-
cians, and People. They pass over the Stage.
1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome:
Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before
them;
Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
Repeal' him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome!-
All.

Welcome, ladies! Welcome! [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Antium. A public Place. Enter TUL

LUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants.

Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city ports" by this hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: Despatch.

[Exeunt Attendants.
Enter Three or Four Conspirators of Aufidius'
Faction.
Most welcome!

1 Con. How is it with our general?
Auf.

Even so, As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain. 2 Con. Most noble sir, If you do hold the same intent wherein Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you

house;

Enter a Messenger.

The plebeians have got your fellow tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another Messenger.

Sic.
What's the news?
Mess. Good news, good news:-The ladies have
prevail'd,

The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic.
Friend,
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,*
As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark

Men.

you;

[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums
beaten, all together. Shouting also within.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again.
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Music.

1 Plutarch informs us that a temple dedicated to the Fortune of the Ladies was built on this occasion by order of the senate.

21. e. stay but for It. So in Macbeth :-
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.'

Of your great danger.

Auf.

Sir, I cannot tell;
We must proceed, as we do find the people.

3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

en'd,

He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf
That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires: nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In my own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and

3 That is, as one made to resemble Alexander.
4 'As through an arch the violent roaring tide
Outruns the eye that doth behold his haste.'
Rape of Lucrece.

5 Recall.

6 i. e. he whom I accuse :-
"I am appointed him to murder you.'
The Winter's Tale.
7 Ports are gates. See Act i. Sc. 7.

Read it not, noble lords; Put up your swords.
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor-How now?

1 The verb to wage was formerly in general use for And mourn you for him: let him be regarded to stipend, to reward. The meaning is, the countenance he gave me was a kind of wages.'

4 This must be considered as continuing the former speech of Aufidius; he means to tell Coriolanus that he was no more than a boy of tears.'

5 His fame overspreads the world."

6 Perhaps judicious, in the present instance, means judicial; such a hearing as is allowed to criminals in courts of justice.'-Stecvens. Steevens is right, it ap pears from Bullokar's Expositor that the words were convertible; the same meaning is assigned to both, viz. 'belonging to judgment.'

As the most noble corse, that ever herald

Did follow to his urn.'

2 Lord

His own impatience

gone,

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
My rage
is
Auf.
And I am struck with sorrow.--Take him up:
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers: I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he

1 This allusion is to a custom which was most pro-
bably unknown to the ancients, but which was observed
in the public funerals of English princes, at the conclu-
sion of which a herald proclaims the style of the de-
ceased.
See Act iv. Sc. 5.

2 Memorial.

Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory."
Assist.

[Exeunt, bearing the Body of CORIOLANUS
A dead March sounded.

THE tragedy of Coriolanus is one of the most amusing of our author's performances. The old man's merriment in Menenius; the lofty lady's dignity in Volumnia; the bridal modesty in Virgilia; the patrician and military haughtiness in Coriolanus; the plebeian malignity and tribunitian insolence in Brutus and Sicinius, make a very pleasing and interesting variety; and the various revolutions of the hero's fortune, fill the mind with anxious curiosity. There is, perhaps, too much bustle in the first Act, and too little in the last.-JOHNSON.

JULIUS CAESAR.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

IT appears from the Appendix to Peck's Memoirs of mind and conscientious love of justice in Brutus, unfit Oliver Cromwell, &c. p. 14, that a Latin play on him to be the head of a party in a state entirely corruptthis subject has been written: Epilogus Cæsari inter-ed: these amiable failings give, in fact, an unfortunate fecti, quomodo in scenam prodiit ea res acta, in Ecclesia Christi, Oxon. Qui epilogus a Magistro Ricardo Eedes, et scriptus, et in proscenio ibidem dictus fuit, A. D. 1582. Meres, in his Wits' Commonwealth, 1598, enumerates Dr. Eedes among the best tragic writers of that time.

From what Polonius says in Hamlet, it seems probable that there was also an English play on the story before Shakspeare commenced writer for the stage. Stephen Gosson, in his School of Abuse, 1579, mentions a play entitled The History of Cæsar and Pompey.

William Alexander, afterwards earl of Sterline, wrote a tragedy of the story of Julius Cæsar; the death of Cæsar, which is not exhibited, but related to the audience, forms the catastrophe of his piece, which appeared in 1607, when the writer was little acquainted with English writers; it abounds with Scotticisms, which the author corrected in the edition he gave of his works in 1637. There are parallel passages in the two plays, which may have arisen from the two authors drawing from the same source; but there is reason to think the coincidences more than accidental, and that Shakspeare was acquainted with the drama of Lord Sterline. It has been shown in a note on The Tempest, that the celebrated passage (The cloud-capt towers,' &c.) had its prototype in Darius, another play of the same author.

It should be remembered that Shakspeare has many plays founded on subjects which had been previously treated by others; whereas no proof has hitherto been produced that any contemporary writer ever presumed to new model a story that had already employed the pen of Shakspeare. If the conjecture that Shakspeare was indebted to Lord Sterline be just, his drama must have been produced subsequent to 1607, or at latest in that year; which is the date ascribed to it, upon these grounds, by Malone.

Upton has remarked that the real duration of time in Julius Cæsar is as follows:-About the middle of February, A. U. C. 709, a frantic festival sacred to Pan, and called Lupercalia, was held in honour of Cæsar, when the regal crown was offered to him by Antony. On the 15th of March in the same year, he was slain. November 27th, A. U. C. 710, the triumvirs met at a small island, formed by the river Rhenus near Bononia, and there adjusted their cruel proscription. A. U. C. 711, Brutus and Cassius were defeated near Philippi.

Gildon long ago remarked that Brutus was the true hero of this tragedy, and not Cæsar; Schlegel makes the same observation: the poet has portrayed the char. acter of Brutus with peculiar care, and developed all the amiable traits, the feeling, and patriotic heroism of it with supereminent skill He has been less happy in personifying Cæsar, to whom he has given several ostentatious speeches, unsuited to his character, if we may judge from the impression made upon us by his own com mentaries. The character of Cassius is also touched with great nicety and discrimination, and is admirably contrasted to that of Brutus: his superiority in independent volition, and his discernment in judging of human affairs, are pointed out; while the purity of

turn to the cause of the conspirators. The play abounds
in well wrought and affecting scenes; it is scarcely
necessary to mention the celebrated dialogue between
Brutus and Cassius, in which the design of the conspi-
racy is opened to Brutus. The quarrel between them,
rendered doubly touching by the close, when Cassius
learns the death of Portia: and which one is surprised
to think that any critic susceptible of feeling should
pronounce 'cold and unaffecting. The scene between
Brutus and Portia, where she endeavours to extort the
secret of the conspiracy from him, in which is that
heart-thrilling burst of tenderness, which Portia's he-
roic behaviour awakens :-

'You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.'

The speeches of Mark Antony over the dead body
of Cæsar, and the artful eloquence with which he cap-
tivates the multitude, are justly classed among the
happiest effusions of poetic declamation.
There are also those touches of nature interspersed,
which we should seek in vain in the works of any
other poet.
In the otherwise beautiful scene with
Lucius, an incident of this kind is introduced, which,
though wholly immaterial to the plot or conduct of the
scene, is perfectly congenial to the character of the
agent, and beautifully illustrative of it. The sedate
and philosophic Brutus, discomposed a little by the
stupendous cares upon his mind, forgets where he
had left his book of recreation :-

'Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so." Another passage of the same kind, and of eminent beauty, is to be found in the scene where the conspirators assemble at the house of Brutus at midnight. Brutus, welcoming them all, says:—

What watchful cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cassius. Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper.]
Decius. Here lies the east: doth not the day break
here?
Casca. No.

Cinna. O pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines,
That fret the clouds, are messengers of day.
Casca. You shall confess, that you are both de-
ceiv'd:

i

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."

It is not only heroic manners and incidents which the all-powerful pen of Shakspeare has expressed with great historic truth in this play, he has entered with no less penetration into the manners of the factious plebeians, and has exhibited here, as well as in Coriolanus, the manners of a Roman mob. How could Johnson say, that his adherence to the real story, and to Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius!!!