JULIUS CÆSAR. 1 JULIUS CESAR was one of three principal plays by different authors, pitched upon by the celebrated Earl of Hallifax to be brought out in a splendid manner by subscription, in the year 1707. The other two were the King and No King of Fletcher, and Dryden's Maiden Queen. There perhaps might be political reasons for this selection, as far as regards our author. Otherwise, Shakespear's JULIUS CAESAR is not equal as a whole, to either of his other plays taken from the Roman history. It is inferior in interest to Coriolanus, and both in interest and power to Antony and Cleopatra. It however abounds in admirable and affecting passages, and is remarkable for the profound knowledge of character, in which Shakespear could scarcely fail. If there is any exception to this remark, it is in D the hero of the piece himself. We do not much admire the representation here given of Julius Cæsar, nor do we think it answers to the portrait given of him in his Commentaries. He makes several vapouring and rather pedantic speeches, and does nothing. Indeed, he has nothing to do. So far, the fault of the character might be the fault of the plot. The spirit with which the poet has entered at once into the manners of the common people, and the jealousies and heart-burnings of the different factions, is shewn in the first scene, when Flavius and Marullus, tribunes of the people, and some citizens of Rome, appear upon the stage. "Flavius. Thou art a cobler, art thou? Cobler. Truly, Sir, all that I live by, is the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters, but with-al, Í am indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. Flavius. But wherefore art not in thy shop to day? Why do'st thou lead these men about the streets? Cobler. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to see Cæsar, and rejoice in his triumph." To this specimen of quaint low humour immediately follows that unexpected and animated burst of indignant eloquence, put into the mouth of one of the angry tribunes. Marullus. "Wherefore rejoice!-What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now strew flowers in his way Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, That needs must light on this ingratitude." The well-known dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, in which the latter breaks the design of the conspiracy to the former, and partly gains him over to it, is a noble piece of high-minded declamation. Cassius's insisting on the pretended effeminacy of Cæsar's character, and his description of their swimming across the Tiber together, "once upon a raw and gusty day," are among the finest strokes in it. But perhaps the whole is not equal to the short scene which follows when Cæsar enters with his train. "Brutus. The games are done, and Cæsar is returning. Brutus. I will do so; but look you, Cassius- Being crost in conference by some senators. Cassius. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Antony. Cæsar? Cæsar. Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look, He thinks too much; such men are dangerous. Antony. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous : He is a noble Roman, and well given. Cæsar. 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 He loves no plays, So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd Than what I fear; for always I am Cæsar. We know hardly any passage more expressive of the genius of Shakespear than this. It is as if he had been actually present, had known the different characters and what they thought of one another, and had taken down what he heard and saw, their looks, words, and gestures, just as they happened, The character of Mark Antony is farther speculated upon where the conspirators deliberate whether he shall fall with Cæsar. Brutus is against it " And for Mark Antony, think not of him : For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm, When Cæsar's head is off. For in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar— Brutus. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæsar: To sports, to wildness, and much company. Trebonius. There is no fear in him; let him not die : For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter." They were in the wrong; and Cassius was right. The honest manliness of Brutus is however |