Delle donne, più d’esse è vano, e stolto;
Tuttavia forza è, ch’oggi condescenda
Al voler della mia, s’aver vuò pace,
E tormi questa noia dalle spalle.
Ma tanto, e così insolito timore,
Ond’ è si fieramente tormentata,
Non è senza cagion: e benchè tema
In me non abbia luogo, pur sospetto,
Che qualche tradimento alla mia vita
S’ordisca, et ho di sospettar cagione.
Ma sia che può: s’è destinato in cielo,
Ch’io muoia, e muoia: a voglia sua mi tolga
La morte, che non può, se non illustre,
E glorioso tormi: Andrà sotterra,
Qualunque volta dal mortal sia scarca,
L’ombra mia di trionfi, e spoglie addorna:
E tal di me qui rimarrà memoria,
Che finchè giri il ciel fia con stupore
Cesare mentovato; e quel, che bee
Il Tanai, l’Ibero, il Tigre, il Gange,
Attonito udirà narrar il Reno,
Il Nilo, e l’Ocean domati, e vinti
E l’Africa, e la Spagna del Romano
Sangue da me inondate, e’l gran Pompeio,
C’hà del suo nome pien tutti i confini
Dell’ampia terra, vinto, e d’ogni sua
Gloria, d’ogni suo onor spogliato, e privo:
Morrà il terren, che fra pochi anni ad ogni
Modo hà da sciorsi in polve: ma immortale
Rimarrà del mio nome la memoria.
Abbastanza ho vissuto alla natura,
Et alla gloria, Omai ch’à far mi resti,
Per più glorificar il nome mio
Non veggio. Asceso sono à quella altezza,
Cui non è pari in terra; oltre alla quale
Non può salir, chi del terreno incarco
Non si spoglia, et isgrava, e mette l’ale.”[78]
These are certainly “high astounding terms,” but doubt and fear are at
work, and this Caesar’s long cogitations are very much like the
whistling of a small boy to keep up his courage. When Decimus
approaches, and informs him that the Senate is assembled, and awaits
him, he says,
“Debbol dir, ò tacer? i preghi e i pianti
Di mia mogliera avuto hanno possanza
Di farmi variar proponimento;
Oltre ch’io temo, e ’l mio timor fondato
È, non sopra fallaci, e vani sogni,
Ma sopra certi indizi, e chiari segni,
Che sien ordite alla mia vita insidie.”—Page 95.
Here is a man who has just proudly exclaimed that fear was foreign to
him, now confessing that he fears, and that his fears are founded not on
vain dreams or portents, but upon substantial grounds. But what are the
“certi indizi, e chiari segni” that threaten his well-being? The vague
warnings of Antony? No more substantial grounds have been presented in
the course of the drama. No conspirators have been named; Caesar,
despite the talk regarding his conviction of impending disaster, is
unsuspectingly conversing with one of the plotters. Are we to regard
this lack of adequate reason for Caesar’s fears as a flaw in Pescetti’s
technique? It must be remembered that Caesar ordered the fateful
sacrifice, and that he himself confesses, in soliloquy, that Calpurnia’s
unusual fear has disturbed him. But he dreads to ascribe his
perturbation to the influence of the portents, and lays the emphasis
upon a suspicion of treachery, which, as far as he had any personal
knowledge, we know rested on the vaguest grounds. There is no fault in
Pescetti’s motivation. He presents a Caesar, shaken by the very fears
that assail baser men, but too proud to convey such an impression,
fatuously trying to persuade himself that he is “constant as the
northern star,” while he wavers like a weather-cock between his fear and
his pride.
He listens to Decimus’ arguments. The latter, knowing how to “give his
humor the true bent,” lays great stress on Rome’s indebtedness to the
Dictator: what Roman could be so base as to contemplate his death?
_D. Brutus_— “. . . . . . . . e nondimeno
Crederem, che si trovi alcun di cuore
Così barbaro, e rio, così spietato
Che pensi, non dirò, ch’ardisca, ò tenti
Di privarti di vita? io non lo credo,
Io non lo credo, nè che sia, ch’il creda,
Credo, nè credo, che tu stesso il creda.
E come io ti consiglio, ch’à guardarti
La diligenza accresca; così voglio,
Ch’ogni timor deponga, ogni sospetto,
Acciocchè nulla nebbia offuschi, ò turbi
Il seren del tuo petto, e acquetate,
Dopo tanti travagli, e tante guerre
Le cose, insieme con la patria goda
Quella felicità, quella quiete,
Ch’ognun del saggio tuo governo attende.”—Pp. 96–97.
Thus Decimus artfully contrives to work on Caesar’s vanity and to
express his disbelief in the genuineness of Caesar’s fears. The latter
is sorely touched; he recognizes his mistake in using the word fear in
his first statement, and hastens to assure Decimus:
“Non tem’io, nò; non hà luogo il timore
In questo petto: unque il mio cuor non seppe,
Che timor fosse: e già son giunto a tale
Etade, e tale cose oprate hò in arme,
Che della morte aver non debba tema.[79]
Potrà ben morte, ch’ogni cosa scioglie,
Questo corpo atterrar; ma la memoria
Del nome mio non spegnerà in eterno.”—P. 97.
Still his fears are potent, but he no longer says “temo,” a word so
unbefitting Caesar; it now becomes
“Tuttavia credo, e sopra certi segni
E conietture è il mio creder fondato,
Che si tendano insidie alla mia vita.”—P. 97.
But he would not appear afraid; apprehensive lest fear may be suspected
from this statement, he continues:
“Dalle quai guarderommi in guisa, ch’io
Non paventi però, nè del mio petto
In parte alcuna la quiete turbi;
Ma tu và trova Marcantonio, e dilli
Da parte mia, che vada a dar licenza
Al Senato, e li dica, che per oggi
In Senato non posso ritrovarmi.”—P. 97.
And note the solicitude of this Colossus, for the opinion of Caesar’s
Senate:
“E mi scusi con lui sì, che non nasca
Sospetto in lui d’esser da me sprezzato.”—P. 97.
This Caesar, in spite of his words, fears. He fears the omens, but he
will not betray his feelings. It might be claimed that his message to
the Senate is a natural result of an innate courtesy typical of true
greatness. But coming where it does and as it does, it seems more an
exhibition of that pride which a man consciously great takes in the good
opinions of his underlings. Surely Caesar had nothing to fear from his
puppet Senators. He could just as curtly have disregarded them; but
demigods must display some good attributes, some care for their
worshippers, if only to feed the sense of their superiority on the
admiration of inferior beings.
Decimus is quick to seize his opportunity and plays on this trait of
Caesar’s character. Surely the Senate will think that he has grown
arrogant; that fortune has transformed a kind and courteous Caesar. The
preservation of his reputation for generosity demands his personal
appearance before the Senators. Caesar yields, while Marcus Brutus
glorifies the gods for this turn of affairs. The Dictator tells the
still anxious Calpurnia to banish her fears, for the gods which so long
have defended him, will not fail him now, while Decimus lauds him and
assures Calpurnia that it were unthinkable that harm could befall Caesar
in his own city.
This scene, between Caesar, Calpurnia, and Decimus Brutus, seems to have
no legitimate place in the plot unless Pescetti aims to heighten the
pathos by bringing into stronger relief the vanity of the Dictator and
the base treachery of his assassins. Caesar becomes to the modern reader
a pitiable, almost a pitiful character. Any lurking admiration for the
Conspirators’ cause is effectually destroyed, and a feeling of horror
supervenes. Perhaps Pescetti so intended. It is revolting to listen to
Decimus, Caesar’s beloved friend and companion in arms, recounting with
smiling countenance his benefactor’s courtesy, his magnanimity, his many
great services to Rome, while he burns to plunge a dagger into his
auditor’s heart. And to think that Caesar, blinded by his vanity, allows
a smiling villain to lead him like an ox to the sacrifice! This is
pitiful, not pathetic.
Later on, Decimus’ praises soar to such heights that Caesar tells him
“. . . . . . Assai corso l’arringo
Hai di mie lodi, Bruto, di che debbo
Molto pregiarmi, e rallegrarmi, essendo
Il lodator d’eterna lode degno.
Ch’alor la lode è finalmente vera,
Quando da huom lodato ella proviene.”—Page 106.
Yet Caesar accepts this fulsome flattery because in his judgment, it
comes from a man well qualified to deliver it. Then, surrounded by his
murderers, he walks unsuspectingly to his doom.
There is no historical justification for such a delineation of the
greatest man of antiquity. Plutarch’s account may not be sympathetic,
but the modest author of the Commentaries is nowhere depicted as a vain,
pompous, vacillating boaster. It is indeed difficult to account for such
a characterization. Muretus may have fixed in his drama a conception of
Caesar supposedly current in his day. But it must be remembered that
this tragedy of Muretus was a youthful product, and one cannot expect of
the student of eighteen, the mature judgment of the scholar of forty.
Grévin followed Muretus, and since his drama is frankly an enlarged
version of his predecessor’s work, it is not surprising that the young
physician took over the humanist’s characterization of Caesar with
scarcely any alterations. But Pescetti’s livelihood depended upon his
knowledge of the classics,[80] and his work bears unmistakable evidence
of wide reading in both Latin and Greek authors. Unlike Muretus, he was
over thirty when he wrote “Cesare”; surely his acquaintance with the
sources must have made him well aware of the falsity of the traditional
estimate of Caesar’s character, if indeed in his time such an estimate
was popularly current. There can be no question of the influence of
Muretus in his own work, yet just why he should choose not only to
follow the former, but further to emphasize the weaknesses of Caesar
must remain purely speculative. Pescetti’s position in the matter is all
the more curious because he dedicated his work to Alfonso D’Este, a
supposed descendant of his titular hero. Under such circumstances it
certainly would have been much to his advantage to have cast his Caesar
in the most heroic mold, instead of presenting him in such a manner as
to provoke resentment in the very quarters where he expected praise.[81]
Is it possible that Pescetti possessed sufficient dramatic technique to
endeavor to present Caesar not as he really was, but as he appeared to
the conspirators, and thus to give their action some excuse?
That Shakespeare so presented him has been contended by some critics,
but the motives that actuated the dramatists are not the point at issue.
The total impression we gain in both dramas is singularly alike, while
in some details the coincidence is striking; as where Caesar says,
“Cowards die many times before their death;
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” (II., 11, 32).[82]
There is nothing novel in these views; one is directly traceable to
Plutarch; the others are often repeated in the classic drama, but it is
at least curious that the same thought occurs frequently in Pescetti.
Thus the Nurse, trying to comfort Calpurnia, says:
“Che più? certo è ciascun d’aver un giorno
A terminar sua vita, e ’l quando è incerto:
Ne può verun, per giovine, e robusto,
Che sia pur un sol dì, pur un momento
Promettersi di vita, or dobbiam noi
Perciò viver ogn’or col cuor tremante,
Come ogn’ora il carnefice ci stesse
Col ferro ignudo sopra, e avvelenare
Tutte col timor nostro le dolcezze
Della presente vita, anzi una morte
Perpetua far tutta la vita nostra?
Perch’ in temendo il mal pena maggiore,
Che nel patir lo stesso mal si prova.”[83]
Caesar, in response to the Priest and Calpurnia, says,
. . . . . . . . . . . .
“Quel, che di me prefisso è in ciel, conviene,
Che sia; nè per por mente a sogni, ò a segni
Potrò schivarlo, e folle à me colui
Sembra, che teme quel, che per consiglio,
Nè per saver uman non può schivarsi.”—Page 77.
Again, it is remarkable that in both Pescetti and Shakespeare, D. Brutus
is made the bearer of Caesar’s message: in the former, to Mark Antony,
who is to address the Senate; in the latter, he himself is to deliver
the message to the Senate.[84]
Again, to Decius’ greeting Caesar replies:
“And you are come in very happy time,
To bear my greeting to the senators,
And tell them that I will not come to-day:
Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius.
_Cal._— Say he is sick” (II., 11, 60).
Who has intimated that Caesar fears to come to the Senate? His
expressions are plainly those of a man influenced by circumstances which
he considers it derogatory to his own sense of superiority to
acknowledge. His exaggerated self-consciousness is feverish; even as he
speaks, he builds inferences which no one but himself could derive from
the premises.[85] He knows he is not sick, nor that he looks as if he
were sick; when Calpurnia tells Decius to plead his illness, he builds
another inference:
_Caes._— “Shall Caesar send a lie?
Have I in conquest stretch’d mine arm so far,
To be afeard to tell graybeards the truth?
Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.”
The very thought that anyone would suspect him of fear, and worse yet,
of attempting to hide his fear in a falsehood, revolts him. An absolute
exhibition of will is more becoming, and he feels it.
_Dec._— “Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laugh’d at when I tell them so.”
This request is dramatically effective: is it historically or
dramatically true? Caesar has said nothing at which the Senate might
laugh; the commands of a Dictator were dangerous subjects for mirth. His
entourage were in no jocund mood after the Lupercalia.
_Bru._— “I will do so; but, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Caesar’s brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train.”[86]
Yet here is a proud conqueror, that lets an underling, although a
friend, hint that his commands might be laughed at. True, Decius says,
“Lest I be laughed at,” but to insult the messenger because of Caesar’s
message, would surely be to scorn Caesar. Instead of the decisive,
imperious command we should expect, we get a reiteration of a previous
statement, and then the Dictator is lost in the man. For Decius’ private
satisfaction, but by no means for his public announcement, Caesar
confides his true reasons. Decius interprets the dream in a manner most
soothing to Caesar’s vanity, and when he intimates that were some one to
tell of this dream to the Senate, Caesar might become a laughing-stock
and be accused of cowardice, the Dictator is vanquished; pride has
conquered fear. Yet, mark, the dream was told to Decius as to a good
friend, and in confidence. What right had he to assume that the dream
would be told to the Senate? If it were told, he alone could be held
responsible for its telling, since he alone, (besides Calpurnia), knew
of it. Since when has the valiant Decius become a superior interpreter
of dreams? Why should his explanations of a woman’s fancies have greater
weight with Caesar than the solemn decision of the venerable college of
augurs? Decius boasts his ability to oversway Caesar, but he succeeds
only because the latter, as in “Cesare,” in his pride and vanity, is
only too glad to seize an opportunity to silence his own apprehension,
without compromise to his own exalted opinion of himself. He is blind to
all other circumstances. This conception of the scene is the only one,
which, to me at least, renders it dramatically satisfying.
Professor MacCallum,[87] of all the many commentators on this character,
seems to have offered the most satisfactory interpretation. Caesar’s
bearing certainly justifies this critic’s opinion, that, in a certain
sense, he is playing a part and aping the immortal to be seen of men. As
has been shown above, Pescetti’s entire treatment suggests the same
conception. His Caesar, if we may overlook the omission of any mention
of his physical failings, can be aptly characterized by Professor
Dowden’s appraisal of the character in Shakespeare. “Julius Caesar
appears in only three scenes of the play. In the first scene of the
third act he dies. When he does appear, the poet seems anxious to insist
upon the weakness rather than on the strength of Caesar. He is subject
to the vain hopes and vain alarms of superstition. His manner of speech
is pompous and arrogant. He accepts flattery as a right; he vacillates
while professing unalterable constancy; he has lost in part his gift of
perceiving facts and of dealing efficiently with men and events.”[88]
Another similarity in the treatment of Caesar must be noted. While
Pescetti’s tragedy is called “Il Cesare,” the titular hero occupies a
position of the same relative unimportance as the Caesar of
Shakespeare’s drama. He appears in but two of the five acts, the third
and the fourth, and is fairly prominent. Yet, Brutus is the real
protagonist. He appears in each act but the third, and is conspicuous
throughout as the chief representative of the action.
Yet here, as in Shakespeare, the spirit of Caesar dominates the play.
From first to last it permeates the drama and provides the mainspring of
the action. From Brutus’ first speech to the concluding words of the
Second Messenger his name is always before us. Calpurnia beholds him in
her dreams, the Priest sees in the portents destruction threatening him
and Rome, while the Choruses beg the gods to avert the impending
disasters. Even Portia is animated by a desire to wreak vengeance on
him. The Messenger in his final lament sees in his death the end of
Rome’s glories and presents him to us as the nemesis of his murderers.
The effect of this treatment is to invest the entire play in an
atmosphere of portent, with Caesar predominant.
-----
Footnote 72:
In the monograph to which reference has already been made.
Footnote 73:
Page 24. See later chapter on Brutus.
Footnote 74:
Compare Antony’s outburst:
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times. J. C. III., 1, 257–58.
Footnote 75:
This is a detail which Pescetti derived from Appian’s “Civil Wars,”
Bk. II., Ch. XVI., wherein it is stated that the conspirators had to
hasten, as Caesar contemplated departing for Parthia within four days
and would thereupon have a bodyguard. (White’s translation, p. 176.)
Footnote 76:
Pp. 76–77. This speech, in substance, occurs both in Muretus and in
Grévin.
Footnote 77:
I., ii. 199.
Footnote 78:
Pp. 93, 94, 95. There are some similarities to “Cornelie” and to
Grévin in this passage.
Footnote 79:
“Have I in conquest stretch’d mine arm so far,
To be afeard to tell graybeards the truth?”
Footnote 80:
He taught grammar and rhetoric in Verona. See Gerini, “Gli scrittori
pedagogici nel secolo decimo settimo.”
Footnote 81:
Paolo Beni was quick to seize upon this feature of Pescetti’s
characterization of Caesar. He says: “Che se pur volesse alcuno che
non perciò restasse suo Cesare di esser furto, almen convien
confessare ch’egli solo fosse vero Autore dell’ingiuria la quale con
tanta sciocchezza e temerità fece in tal Tragedia a quell’Altezza et a
tutta la serenissima Casa d’Este, poscia che havendo pubblicato e
celebrato Alfonso per congiuntissimo di sangue con la Casa Giulia, e
con Giulio Cesare, finalmente si adduce a dedicarli la sua Tragedia;
(che sua chiamerolla per hora) quella Tragedia dico nella qual Cesare
vien com’empio tiranno e traditor della patria bruttamente trucidato.
Vedi imprudenza estrema di quest’huomo: vedi sciocchezza et audacia
incomparabile: ricordare che questo serenissimo Principe sia per
sangue strettamente congiunto con Giulio Cesare, e disceso da Giulio
Cesare, e poi immantinente far che il Theatro per ogni parte risuoni
l’impietà, la perfidia, la tirannia di Cesare: e che su gli occhi di
quell’Altezza ne venga quasi pernitioso mostro co’l ferro trucidato et
estinto. E forse che non supplica il Serenissimo Alfonso (vedi nuova
imprudenza et ardire) che faccia rappresentar questa Tragedia in
publico con nobil pompa, e dia spettacolo sì horrendo d’un suo
antenato al Mondo.” Il Cavalcanti, 1614, p. 107 et seq.
Footnote 82:
It is interesting to note the fascination which this remark of
Caesar’s had for the dramatists of his fortunes. No doubt they drew
their direct inspiration from Plutarch, who relates that Caesar, on
being urged to have a bodyguard, retorted, “It is better to die once,
than always to be afraid of death.” (J. C., p. 92.) Skeat.
Thus Muretus says (Act III., verse 386):
“Sed tamen quando semel
Vel cadere praestat, quam metu longo premi.”
And Grévin, Act III., v. 791:
“. . . . . . . et si j’aime bien mieux
Mourir tout en un coup, qu’estre tousjours paoureux.”
Also Act I., v. 13:
“Il vault bien mieux mourir
Asseure de tout poinct, qu’incessamment perir.
Faulsement par la peur.”
In Garnier’s “Cornelie” (Kyd’s trans.) we read:
“The fear of evil doth afflict us more
Than the evil itself, though it be neer so sore.”
Footnote 83:
Pp. 39–40. Also pages 79, 80, 82, 83 and 94, in which this same idea
finds expression.
Footnote 84:
This is not the case in Muretus or Grévin, nor is it found in
Plutarch.
Footnote 85:
True, the conspirators have suspected that the portents and the
auspices might persuade him, and Trebonius has prepared for this. But
how was Caesar to know?
Footnote 86:
I., ii, 182.
Footnote 87:
MacCallum, op. cit., p. 228.
Footnote 88:
“Shakespeare, A Critical Study of his Mind and Art,” by Edward Dowden,
Harper & Bros., 1903, pp. 253–54.
BRUTUS
Pescetti wrote his tragedy with the evident intention of flattering the
Duke of Ferrara, yet never was fulfillment further from promise.
“Cesare” could hardly have furnished agreeable reading to a prince, who,
lauded on one page as the greatest descendant of the mightiest Julius,
finds throughout the succeeding pages this same ancestor denounced as an
odious tyrant, and displayed in action as a weak, vacillating braggart.
Nor would his appreciation of Pescetti’s efforts have been increased by
a consideration of the treatment accorded Brutus. Far from presenting
the assassin of Caesar in a manner which might have been regarded as
acceptable to the Duke, the Italian dramatist considers him throughout
with the highest favor and never wearies of his praises.
Pescetti’s dedication renders it rather difficult to account
satisfactorily for his Brutus. Possibly he harbored liberal sympathies
of which he found it hard to rid himself; possibly he was here too
greatly under Plutarch’s influence; perhaps he was simply following in
the footsteps of Muretus and Grévin. Plutarch certainly wrote the life
“con amore,” and both Pescetti and Shakespeare continue the idealization
of the character begun by the biographer. To both dramatists, as to
Muretus and Grévin, Brutus was the “last of the Romans,” in whom the old
regime found its final and noblest champion. Under the circumstances it
is difficult to seize upon any phase of the character peculiar alone to
Shakespeare and Pescetti. Both went to the same, or nearly the same
source for their material; both followed their source faithfully. Yet it
is this very similarity in the conception of the character which is
especially significant for our purpose, for Shakespeare could have found
in the Italian dramatist nothing to weaken, but much to confirm the
favorable impression he gathered from the varied pages of Plutarch.
Pescetti’s pronounced bias is discernible from the very beginning. In
his dedication[89] his fulsome flattery of Alfonso does not prevent him
hinting that Caesar was no lawful ruler, nor from glancing at his
excessive ambition, even though he afterward, in his drama, makes little
mention of the one and none of the other. But perhaps most significant
of his own feelings are the words he puts into the mouth of the Chorus
of Citizens in his last act. The chorus sings the praises of Brutus in a
manner which makes the immediately following praise of Caesar by the
soldiers pale in comparison:
_Coro di Cittadini_: . . . . . . .
O magnanimo Bruto,
Vera stirpe di lui,
Che cacciò i Rè, ch’uccise i figli sui:
O vero Rè, ch’i regni
Non pur sprezzi, ma spegni,
Et, ucciso il Tiranno,
Torni la libertà nel proprio scanno;
Qual premio possiam darti
Al tuo valor condegno?
Qual lingua, qual ingegno
È bastante a lodarti,
Quanto se’ degno?
O quanto sdegno
Hò, che ’l mio stile
Non giunga al segno
Delle tuo lodi, ond’ io
Portar potessi, al mio
Desir conforme, il tuo nome gentile
Dall’ aureo Gange alla rimota Tile.
Dov’ è, dov’ è la Tromba
Ond’ Achille, et Ulisse ancor rimbomba?
Che con sonoro canto
Celebri in ogni canto
Il generoso, e pio
Fatto, e tolga di mano al cieco oblio.—Pp. 140–141.
It is difficult to consider these utterances as impersonal. Such is
Pescetti’s admiration for the assassin of Caesar that he speaks in his
own person, apparently forgetting in his enthusiasm that he has assigned
the words to the Chorus of Citizens.[90] A further remove from Dante’s
conception of Brutus can hardly be imagined.
Such an exhibition of partiality could not have been lost on
Shakespeare. Such an emphasis of Plutarch’s attitude could not have
failed to confirm the favorable impression which he gathered from the
biographer. Nor could Shakespeare, in those scenes in “Cesare” wherein
Pescetti attempts to exhibit Brutus in action, have gathered any hints
to shake the final opinion in his own play:
“This was the noblest Roman of them all.”
Like Shakespeare, Pescetti very carefully eliminates from his
characterization anything which might reflect unfavorably upon the moral
character of the protagonist. We hear nothing of his positive moral
defects; of his divorce, of his rivalry with Cassius for offices within
the gift of the Dictator, nor of his many obligations to Caesar. All is
discreetly passed over. Whatever Pescetti’s intentions, he probably
found it a dramatic necessity to exclude them, much for the same reason
that Shakespeare, in all likelihood influenced by his example, was led
to ignore them. Possibly it was the Italian’s purpose to portray the
fruitless struggle of a hopeless, though noble and virtuous
Republicanism against a condition of affairs whose existence had been
preordained by the gods, and against which all the forces of an outraged
idealism could not prevail. The mortal embodiment of this power might
fall; a place was ready for him with the gods, while Tartarus enlarged
its bounds to compass his foes.[91]
If we are to accept the opinion of some critics, Shakespeare was
influenced in his treatment of the subject by the recent failure of the
Duke of Essex’ rebellion. It showed plainly and forcibly the folly of
opposition to the monarchial power. The same idea can be discovered in
Pescetti. Much as he lauds Brutus, the practical considerations of
authorship compel him at times to a consideration of contemporary
conditions. Possibly he realized that he was going too far in his
denunciation of Caesar, for we find the Nurse engaging in a defense of
monarchs, and declaring,
“E non son altro i Regi, che Vicari
Del sommo Giove.”—P. 55.
At the end of the play, the author is careful to emphasize the futility
of fighting against the established order:
“E chiaro vedrai meco,
Che questo mondo è una perpetua guerra,
Ove l’un l’altro atterra,
E si tosto, ch’un manca,
Rinasce un altro, e ’l mondo si rinfranca.”—P. 149.
But it is quite possible that neither Pescetti nor Shakespeare had the
faintest idea of introducing any such problem into their tragedy.
Possibly both dramatized history as they conceived it, without any
attempt to invest their work with a larger significance. Yet consciously
or unconsciously, by thus representing their hero as morally immaculate,
actuated solely by the highest and most unselfish motives, while the
representative of monarchy is depicted as weak, vacillating, and
tyrannous, both Pescetti and Shakespeare have secured for the problem
its most elemental and most emphatic statement.
Both dramatists, therefore, approached the subject in the same spirit.
Both excluded from their portrait of Brutus whatever seemed to reflect
unfavorably upon his character; both included whatever might add to his
moral elevation. It is this peculiar insistence upon certain traits of
Brutus’ character to the exclusion of others, that furnishes a close
parallel between the two plays.[92]
The Brutus of “Cesare”, at his first appearance, curiously resembles the
Brutus of “Julius Caesar” after the famous soliloquy. He is torn by no
doubts as to the moral excellence of his plans: his whole soul is bent
upon the destruction of the tyrant. Thus, in his opening speech[92] he
exclaims,
“Oggi a Roma farò conoscer, ch’io
Degno nipote son di quel gran Bruto,
Che di questa Città cacciando i Regi
Alta vendetta, e memorabil feo
Del barbarico stupro di Lucrezia.
Roma, oggi questa mano, e questo ferro,
O hà da sciorre, e romper le catene,
Ond’ in duro servaggio avvinta sei,
O hà da trar di vergognosa, e grave
Vita, anzi morte me.”—P. 12.
This, in style, sentiment, and wording is closely parallel to the
exclamation of Brutus on reading the notes:
“Shall Rome stand under one man’s awe? What, Rome?
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
The Tarquin drive, when he was called a King.
‘Speak, strike, redress.’—Am I entreated
To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise
If the redress will follow, thou receivest
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!”
The exclamatory style is particularly noteworthy, as it occurs
frequently in the parallels.
A peculiar difference in treatment, but a striking parallel in content,
is to be found in a portion of the Brutus-Cassius scene.[93] In
Pescetti, Brutus enters the action fully resolved, and though Cassius is
already in the plot, that cautious conspirator has his doubts as to
Caesar’s vulnerability. Brutus thereupon indulges in an argument
curiously similar to that used later by Cassius in Shakespeare’s play
when he is striving to arouse Brutus. In Pescetti, Cassius says of
Caesar:
“Tu sai, ch’egli è feroce, e ne’ perigli
Non si sgomenta punto, anzi diviene
Allor più ardito, e coraggioso, quando
Maggior vede il periglio.”[94]—P. 24.
Brutus replies:
“. . . . . E siasi, nulla
Li gioverà l’ardir, nulla la forza,
Che non potrà, se tutto acciaio ei fosse
Resister al furor di trenta, c’hanno
Posta la propria vita in abbandono
Per liberar la patria. O Cassio, credi
Tu, ch’io non sappia, ch’in cotesto tuo
Petto non meno ardir si chiude, e serra,
Ch’in quel di Giulio? e che cotesto braccio
Non è del suo men nerboruto, e forte?”[95]
Shakespeare has:
_Cassius_— “I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Caesar; so were you.
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter’s cold as well as he.”[96]
It is remarkable that in both dramas the authors found it necessary to
convince one of their conspirators that Caesar was physically the same
as other men.
The Brutus of Pescetti is accorded the same high estimate by his
countrymen as the Brutus of Shakespeare. Cassius refers to him as “Il
mio Bruto” and lauds him as
“Bruto sovrano pregio, e gloria della
Romana gioventù, Bruto, in cui splende
Ogni prisco valor, cui chiama il cielo
A gloriose, et immortali imprese.”—P. 15.
A little further on he continues:
“Or sì, c’huomo ti stimo, Bruto, e vero
Ramo di quella eccelsa, e gloriosa
Stirpe, ch’à Roma il giogo indegno scosse.
Or sì, che chiaro veggio, ch’in te spirto
Veramente Roman si chiude, e serra;
Ch’in te quel valor vive, ch’oggi, invano
Cerco nel popol nostro, invan disio.”—P. 16.
This speech follows Brutus’ revelation of his determination to kill the
tyrant. In Shakespeare, after Cassius has succeeded in moving Brutus, he
says,
“Well, Brutus, thou art noble....”[97]
The shade of Pompey says to Brutus:
“. . . Tu puoi dunque,
Bruto, servir? tu, che l’origin trai
Da colui, che premier la libertade
A questa alta Città donò? tu puoi
A Tiranno servir? tu, che discendi
Da colui, che’l leggitimo Signore
Tollerar non poteo? questo appreso hai
Da quella sacrosanta, e veneranda
Maestra della vita, e de’ costumi,
Per cui seguir già nell’ etade acerba
La patria abbandonasti, e là te’n gisti,
Ove fiorian tutti i lodati studi,
Tutte l’arti gentili, e bei costumi?
Ahi quanto defraudato hai quella speme,
Che già fanciullo ancor di te destasti
Nel petto di ciascun, che ti conobbe?
Mal col principio il fin s’accorda, o Bruto,
Mal risponde alla prima la mezzana
Età: pur sai, ch’in valor dee l’huom sempre
Irsi avanzando, qual fiume reale,
Che quanto più dal fonte suo si scosta,
Tanto più cresce, e al mar più ricco corre.
Destati, e Bruto, destati, e raccendi
Quel fuoco, ch’era in te ne’ tuoi primi anni;
E mostra, ch’al tuo nome corrisponde
L’animo, nè dal ceppo tuo traligni.”—P. 17.
Here we find many characteristics enumerated, garnered from Plutarch and
Appian, which, in addition to those already quoted, could have enabled
Shakespeare without Plutarch’s scattered hints, to build a considerable
part of his characterization of Brutus. In Shakespeare, Cassius says to
Brutus:
“You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.”[98]
Here, as in Pescetti, all animosity between them is forgotten.
Further on Cassius exclaims, as Brutus assures him that he loves the
name of honor more than he fears death:
“I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favor.”[99]
Just before this, he says:
“And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,
Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.”[100]
Casca refers to Brutus as follows:
“O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts.”[101]
Cassius again:
“... and no man here
But honors you; and every one doth wish
You had but that opinion of yourself
Which every noble Roman bears of you.”[102]
Ligarius hails him as,
“Soul of Rome,
Brave son, derived from honorable loins.”[103]
. . . . .
“Set on your foot,
And with a heart new-fired I follow you,
To do I know not what; but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.”[104]
The same confidence in Brutus is manifested by the Cassius of “Cesare.”
As Brutus and he come out of the temple, Cassius says:
“Scritta nel volto tuo veggio, e per gli occhi
Scintillar fuor tal tua baldanza scorgo.
Quindi felice augurio io prendo; quindi
Anch’ io tutto m’inanimo, e rincuoro
E certissima speme io concepisco,
Ch’aver felice fin deggia la cosa.”—P. 23.
Like Shakespeare, Pescetti lays great stress upon Brutus’ lack of
foresight. As is evident from the discussion regarding Antony, he
utterly fails to see the fatal mistake he makes in sparing that subtle
opportunist. That it is a mistake, Pescetti shows, when, near the end of
the drama, the Messenger announced that Antony and Lepidus are about to
avenge Caesar’s death. Brutus’ whole argument is characteristic of the
closet philosopher; books, not men, have been the object of his studies.
He can dissect sagely the motives of his own actions, but he is helpless
to penetrate the purposes of other men. In glaring contrast to the
Brutus of the famous soliloquy, yet akin in his impracticability, here
is a Brutus who speaks thus, when a cautious, worldly Cassius reminds
him (in regard to Antony),
“A me più saggio
Sembra colui che l’ suo nemico uccide
Pria che l’ offenda, che lui, che dopo
Ch’ è stato offeso, vendica l’ingiuria.
Bruto—Non il pensier, ma l’opra punir vuolsi.
Oltra, che chi m’accerta, ch’ei tal mente
Abbia, qual dici? Chi può dentro il petto
Suo penetrar? e ciò, che vi nasconde
Veder? Gli uman pensier sol Giove intende.”—P. 26.
He would spare Antony because he is a reveller and given to the
pleasures of the flesh. How could such a man, he asks, triumph over
those who have devoted their lives to study and toil? He fatuously
believes that Caesar’s death will so intimidate Antony as to drive all
desire of domination out of the head of that wily schemer.
And to all of this, Cassius very appropriately replies:
“Bruto, tu se’ troppo pietoso: voglia
Il ciel, che questa tua pietà non sia
Un giorno a noi crudel.”—P. 27.
Yet this Brutus, just like Shakespeare’s Brutus, is so carried away by
the conviction of the irresistible justice of his cause that he abruptly
terminates this vital discussion by the lofty statement:
“Chiunque ama virtù, figlio è di Giove.”
This overpowering sense of the righteousness of his cause is strong
throughout. In his opening speech he exclaims, as he addresses Jove:
“. . . . . . . nè sdegnar, ch’io sia,
Benchè indegno, ministro, et instrumento
Della giustizia tua; nè perchè sacro
Luogo alla morte del Tiranno abbiamo
Eletto, riputar, ch’in noi s’annidi
Altro pensier, che pio: Rimira al cuore,
Che, se l’atto è profano, il cuor è pio,
E pietà sola è di tal atto madre.”—P. 13.
He considers himself the unworthy instrument of Jove’s vengeance. He
feels that the act itself is impious,[105] but his lofty motives must
plead his excuse.
“O conspiracy,
Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
When evils are most free? O, then, by day
Where will thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage?”[106]
Just before this he says:
“Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar
I have not slept.”[107]
Since the shade of Pompey appeared to him, Pescetti’s Brutus exclaims
that his thoughts, like those of the Greek Milthiades,
“Non mi lascian dormir, nè prender posa.”—P. 15.
When Portia reminds him that fortune often opposes merit he replies:
“Hà ben fortuna per antica usanza
Di contrastar alla virtù; ma quello
Addopra contra lei, che l’onda insana
Del tempestoso mar nel fermo scoglio.”—P. 49.
This is the same spirit that prompts Shakespeare’s Brutus to reject the
oath:
“What other oath
Than honesty to honesty engaged
That this shall be or we will fall for it?”
“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....”[108]
In “Cesare,” Brutus has such a hold over the conspirators that they
gladly, as in Shakespeare, accept his leadership and decision on all
points. To him are left all the details of the murder. When the fateful
moment comes, he stands, after the first shock, unmoved by the fears of
his fellows, and calms their panic when Lenate speaks to Caesar.
“Respira, ò Cassio, che li parla d’altro,
Per quel, che di quì posso dal sembiante
Comprender, e da gesti.”[109]
“Cassius, be constant;
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purpose;
For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.”[110]
The Brutus of Pescetti, who can find time to study faces at such a
critical moment, never forgets the respect due to himself. Just like
Shakespeare’s Brutus, as long as a fighting chance exists, he would
fight to the last, but he would sooner die by his own hand than grace
the triumph of his enemy. To Cassius, who rouses him to the danger in
Lenate’s talk to Caesar, he replies:
“T’intendo; ahi che valor, dove fortuna
S’opponga, nulla val. Stiam preparati,
Per proveder, se fia bisogno, al nostro
Scampo, e alla libertà farci la strada,
Se non possiam con altro, col passarci
Co’ pugnali l’un l’altro il fianco, o ’l petto.”—P. 107.
_Cas._— “Then, if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome?
_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.
Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile,
If not, why then this parting was well made.”[111]
One of the curious things in Shakespeare’s drama is the rather vague
causes of resentment which the conspirators have towards Caesar. As
Professor MacCallum says, “Cassius, the moving spirit of the opposition,
is, at his noblest, actuated by jealousy of greatness. And he is not
always at his noblest. He confesses that had he been in Caesar’s good
graces, he would have been on Caesar’s side. This strain of servility is
more apparent in the flatteries and officiousness of Decius and Casca.
And what is the motive? Cassius seeks to win Antony by promising him an
equal voice in disposing of the dignities; and he presently uses his
position for extortion, and the patronage of corruption. Envy, ambition,
cupidity, are the principles of the governing classes; and their
enthusiasm for freedom means nothing more than an enthusiasm for
prestige and influence, for the privilege of parcelling out the
authority and dividing the spoils. What care have these against the Man
of Destiny, whose glories have given compass, peace and security to the
Roman world? But their plea of liberty misleads the impractical student,
the worshipper of dreams, memories, and ideals, behind whose virtue they
shelter their selfish aims, and whose countenance alone can make their
conspiracy respectable. And this very Brutus enters the conspiracy, not
because of what Caesar did, or what he is, but because of what he may
become! I need not here recount such causes of resentment which may be
gleaned from the play. They all tend to the conclusions advanced above.
The only serious charge urged against Caesar is that he was
ambitious;—surely a sorry charge upon which to justify to the Roman
populace the murder of a benefactor.”[112]
The same lack of definiteness in the charges against Caesar is to be
found in Pescetti. The latter, like Shakespeare, could have found enough
material in Appian and in Plutarch upon which to ground the conspiracy,
but we look in vain for some decisive accusation. There is much talk of
tyranny, much about the hard yoke under which Romans groan, but very
little in the way of elucidation. Caesar is not accused of ambition; no
mention whatever is made of the attempts to crown him. Envy does not
seem to be a motive; at least we gain no such idea from the conduct of
the conspirators, although Mark Antony directly hints at this in his
warning to Caesar.
“Della fortuna io t’assicuro, ch’ella
Non ti sie mai contraria sì nel crine
Avvolte l’hai le mani. Dall’insidie
Ben t’esort’ io guardarti de’ nemici.
Molti offesi da te si tengon: molti
Portano invidia alla tua gloria; alcuni
Abbaglia il tuo splendore: altri patire,
Che tu lor sii superior, non ponno.”—P. 67.
As far as most of the conspirators in “Julius Caesar” are concerned,
this seems to fit them; but, strange to say, it is difficult to see
where it applies in “Cesare.” Of the many offenses of which Caesar is
held responsible we get very little beyond this bare statement.
As far as Brutus is concerned, he evidently blames Caesar for Pompey’s
death and burns to avenge it. Just why, is nowhere apparent. He longs to
restore the ancient liberties, but in what degree they have been
destroyed, and above all, just what part Caesar played[113] in their
destruction is not very clear. In the very first scene, Brutus
apostrophises the shade of Pompey, who had appeared to him during the
night, and had said,
“. . . Tu puoi dunque,
Bruto, servir? tu che l’origin trai
Da colui che primo la libertade
A questa alta Città donò? tu puoi
A Tiranno servir? tu, che discendi
Da colui, ch’l leggitimo Signore
Tollerar non poteo? questo appreso hai
Da quella sacrosanta, e veneranda
Maestra della vita, e de’ costumi,
Per cui seguir già nell’ etade acerba
La patria abbandonasti:”[114]
He recounts the hopes entertained by the bright promise of Brutus’
youth, and exhorts him to prove to the world that these hopes may yet be
realized.
The shade does not demand vengeance on his own account; he deplores
Brutus’ fealty to a tyrant, and states certain conditions, but nothing
specifically tyrannical. In his opening apostrophe to the shade, Brutus
indulges in the same generalities. I will quote this entire speech,
partly for its bearing on the matter under discussion, and partly for
the light it sheds on Pescetti’s conception of Brutus’ character.
“Magnanim’ ombra ecch’io ti seguo, ecch’io
M’accingo all’ alta impresa, a che m’esorti.
Oggi ò del sangue del crudel Tiranno,
O del mio spargerassi il terren sacro.
Oggi ò vendicarò l’empia tua morte,
E riporrò la patria in libertade,
O verrotti a trovar, dovunque sei.
Oggi a Roma farò conoscer, ch’io
Degno nipote son di quel gran Bruto,
Che di questa Città cacciando i Regi
Alta vendetta, e memorabil feo
Del barbarico stupro di Lucrezia.
Roma, oggi questa mano, e questo ferro
O hà da sciorre, e romper le catene,
Ond’ in duro servaggio avvinta sei,
O hà da trar di vergognosa, e grave
Vita, anzi morte me. Giove, se giusto
Se’, se ’l trar le Città di sotto a piedi
De superbi Tiranni, se ’l punire
Gli empi, se ’l dar a gli innocenti aita,
Opra è, che sovra ogn’altra aggrada, e piace
Alla tua maestà, deh favorisci
La santa impresa, e se prosontuoso
Son in tor quell’effetto alla tua destra,
Che si doveva a lei, ch’era suo proprio,
Perdona al gran disio, c’ho di vedere
Nella primiera libertà riposta
Quest’alta patria; nè sdegnar, ch’io sia,
Benchè indegno, ministro, et instrumento
Della giustizia tua: nè perchè sacro
Luogo alla morte del Tiranno abbiamo
Eletto, riputar, ch’in noi s’annidi
Altro pensier, che pio: Rimira al cuore,
Che, se l’atto è profano, il cuore è pio,
E pietà sola è di tal atto madre.”
Here is a man ready to kill Caesar because of a dream! The Brutus of
Shakespeare would kill him not because of what he is, but for what he
might become. The same statement regarding tyranny, ancient liberties,
etc., occurs again and again throughout “Cesare.” Cassius repeats them
in the very next speech; but all is very vague, very indefinite. Brutus
and Cassius later indulge in a lofty dialogue concerning liberty, and
Brutus says that the only thing which has kept him alive is the hope
that some day he may be able to help Rome regain her ancient liberties.
That alone, he feels sure, has also kept Cassius from desiring to
outlive the dead Republic.[115]
Perhaps the strongest statement is contained in Brutus’ speech at the
beginning of the fifth act.[116]
“Cittadini, Il Tiranno hà col suo sangue
Pagate le dovute pene, et hà soddisfatto
All’anime di tanti huomini illustri,
Che son, per colpa sua, giti sotterra.
Omai libera è Roma,
Dalle nostre cervici è scosso il giogo,
Et ei conforme al merto suo nel proprio
Sangue, ch’in larga vena
Per cento piaghe versa
Giace a piè della statua
Del magnanimo Duce,
Cui non vider mai par quest’ alte mura:”—P. 115.
Yet there is nothing stronger in all this than in Shakespeare. There
Caesar comes in triumph over Pompey’s sons; not alone the parent, but
the offspring have fallen. Brutus says,
“No, not an oath: if not the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time’s abuse,—
If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed;
So let high sighted tyranny rage on
Till each man drop by lottery” (II., 1, 114).
Nor can I, despite all this talk concerning ancient liberties, this
vehement denunciation of tyranny, discern any definite republican
tendencies in “Cesare.” As has already been pointed out, Pescetti’s
treatment of Caesar aroused the resentment of the partisans of Alfonso
d’Este, yet the author takes pains to have it understood that princes
rule by divine right as God’s vicars on earth. In the fourth act, Brutus
and Cassius indulge in a dialogue, entirely superfluous, regarding
liberty, and Cassius advances what, to a Roman at least, must have
seemed rather a novel view of this much discussed subject.
_Cas._— “La libertà null’altro
È, ch’imperio, e dominio di se stesso.”—P. 89.
The interjection of this philosophical conception, seemingly so at
variance with classical traditions, serves only further to complicate an
already sufficiently complicated issue. In short, the motives of the
conspirators are not expressed with sufficient clearness to enable us to
indicate their exact nature.
Yet, in spite of his impracticability, in spite of the haziness of his
motives, the Brutus of Pescetti, like that of Shakespeare, leaves us in
no doubt as to the sincerity of his purpose. Whatever base motives may
actuate his follows (and in Pescetti none are discernible), he seems to
deserve the same eulogy accorded the Brutus of Shakespeare. The
salvation of the common weal alone, even at the expense of his own life,
seems to animate him. Thus, he says to Decimus Brutus:
“Albin tanto al morir, quanto al dar morte
All’ ingiusto Signor siam preparati:
Però succeda, come piace al cielo.
Se l’opre de’ mortai rimira Giove
Con occhio giusto, à fin felice, e lieto
Scorgerà i pensier nostri, ch’all’ altrui
Salute, all’ altrui ben rivolti sono.”—Ces., p. 93.
“He only, in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.”—J. C., V., v, 71.
It is certainly significant, that with a wealth of material to draw
upon, both Pescetti and Shakespeare should, in regard to Brutus, treat
the available sources in a manner so similar. Pescetti excludes much
historical matter which he might have employed; Shakespeare makes
practically the same exclusions. Thus the histories contained sufficient
data upon which to found a formidable indictment against Caesar, but
both chose to overlook them and to found the conspirators’ cause on
comparatively insignificant accusations. In both dramas, certain phases
of Brutus’ character are emphasized to the exclusion of others. Much is
said of his virtues: nothing, not even by his enemies, of his vices. In
their inclusions, a similar parallelism exists between the two
dramatists. Pescetti, with a keen perception of the dramatic value of
that phase of Brutus’ character, assigns to his mistaken idealism in
sparing Antony, a far more significant position in the development of
his tragedy than did his predecessors.[117] Here we get an individual
treatment of this dramatic crux which has a striking similarity to that
in Shakespeare. It leaves us with the same conception of Brutus’
practical failings, with the same misgivings which we experience in the
work of his great contemporary.[118] Unlike Muretus and Grévin, Pescetti
does not overlook the importance of the Popilius Lena incident, and by
his treatment he introduces an element of suspense which Shakespeare
could well use to advantage. Though both dramatists used practically the
same source, Pescetti’s individual touches seem reflected in
Shakespeare’s handling of this episode. Again, unlike his predecessors,
Pescetti was fully alive to the value of the Brutus-Portia scenes, and
reveals Brutus in his domestic relations very much as Shakespeare does
some ten years later.[119] Finally, in both dramas the protagonist is
but a pawn moved by invisible powers, pursuing his fated way against an
ominous and supernatural background. In both tragedies, destiny has its
ghostly precursors; in the one to arouse the hero to action, in the
other, to herald his doom.
-----
Footnote 89:
E per non fare ora qui (che nè il luogo, nè l’occasione il ricerca) un
catalogo di tutti, chi dell’ antico, ò del moderno secolo possiam noi
trovare, che a Cesare somigli più, e faccia meglio parallelo di quel,
che fa la Sereniss. Altezza Vostra? Sol che quelli fosse stato
Cristiano, e avesse saputo contentarsi d’esser il primo della sua
Città, senza voler esser anche della stessa Città più potente, ò
Signor legittimo fosse suto; . . . “Cesare,” Dedication, p. 2.
Footnote 90:
In the classic drama it is not unusual for the Chorus to speak in the
first person, but this instance is unique in Pescetti. It strikes the
reader with all the force of an individual opinion of the author.
Footnote 91:
In the Prologue, Jove comforts Venus, saying:
“Giulio, della cui morte tanto lutto
Meni, e cordoglio, e sì ti lagni, e duoli,
Risplenderà doman in ciel al pari
Della tua stella; . . .” Prologue, p. 10.
Footnote 92:
As is well known, Plutarch nowhere condemns Brutus for his murder of
Caesar. Appian, however, while he recognizes Brutus’ virtues, is
strong in condemnation of his act. He says: “Against all these virtues
and merits must be set down the crime against Caesar, which was not an
ordinary or a small one, for it was committed unexpectedly against a
friend, ungratefully against a benefactor who has spared them in war,
and nefariously against the head of the state, in the senate house,
against a pontiff clothed in his sacred vestments, against a ruler
without an equal, who was most useful above all other men to Rome and
its empire.” Civil Wars, White’s Trans., p. 381.
It is curious to note how Pescetti here abandons Appian in favor of
Plutarch.
Footnote 93:
Just before the discussion concerning Antony, already quoted.
Footnote 94:
From these words the reader may believe that the conspirators feared
that very courage of which Caesar himself proves deficient. But by
courage, Cassius here means sheer physical bravery, an attribute which
no reader either of Pescetti or of Shakespeare can deny him. The
courage Caesar lacked was that of his own convictions. Like Macbeth,
the known had no terrors for him, but like the Scottish king, he is
confounded by the unseen. No Roman could have found fault with a man
for heeding the warning of the gods. The historical Caesar, it is
true, oft expressed his contempt for omens, while the Caesar of the
drama professes to disregard them. But his disregard is superficial,
and apparently the result of an attitude which we cannot but attribute
to a belief in his own semi-divine being. Rather than be suspected of
feelings common enough to ordinary mortals, Caesar deludes himself by
a process of self-hypnotism, and is led to his doom, a victim of his
lack of true courage, a sacrifice to his own inordinate vanity.
Footnote 95:
P. 24. Is this perhaps the hint from which Shakespeare built up the
entire scheme of physical comparisons dwelt upon by Cassius? The
swimming of the Tiber, for instance?
Footnote 96:
I., ii, 95.
Footnote 97:
I., ii, 308.
Footnote 98:
I., ii, 33–34.
Footnote 99:
I., ii, 89–90.
Footnote 100:
I., ii, 54–61.
Footnote 101:
I., iii, 157.
Footnote 102:
II., i, 90.
Footnote 103:
II., i, 321.
Footnote 104:
II., i, 332.
Footnote 105:
Probably because it involved a profanation of the sacred precincts of
the Senate. But one might expect such an ardent patriot to regard
Caesar’s death here as a very acceptable sacrifice to the gods he
supposedly outraged. But see Appian.
Footnote 106:
II., i, 77.
Footnote 107:
II., i, 61.
Footnote 108:
II., i, 124.
Footnote 109:
P. 109.
Footnote 110:
III., i, 22.
Footnote 111:
V., i, 109.
Footnote 112:
P. 216–217, MacCallum.
Footnote 113:
The conclusion is irresistible that Pescetti was very much under the
influence of Lucan. This is true not alone of the supernatural
element, but also of the general attitude of Brutus and Cassius, who
talk of Caesar very much in the spirit of the Pharsalia. In Book IX.
Lucan describes how the soul of Pompey leaving the tomb soars to the
abodes of the Blessed and thence looking down upon the earth inspires
the breasts of Brutus and Cato. (Lines 1–23.)
Footnote 114:
P. 17.
Footnote 115:
Pp. 89–90.
Footnote 116:
In Muretus the case against Caesar is also weak. In Grévin, Brutus in
his speech to the citizens makes definite charges:
“Ce Tyran, ce Cesar, enemi du Senat,
Oppresseur du pays, qui de son Consulat
Avoit faict heritage, e de la Republique
Une commune vente en sa seule practique,
Ce bourreau d’innocens, ruine de nos loix,
La terreur des Romains, e le poison des droicts,
Ambitieux d’honneur, qui monstrant son envie,
S’estoit faict appeler Pere de la patrie,
E Consul à jamais, à jamais Dictateur,
Et pour comble de tout, du surnom d’Empereur.
Il est mort ce meschant, qui decelant sa rage,
Se feit impudemment eslever un image
Entre les Rois, aussi il a eu le loyer
Par une mesme main qu’eut Tarquin le dernier.”
(Lines 1017 ff.)
Footnote 117:
There is no doubt that Pescetti found in Muretus the hints for some of
Brutus’ speeches, but his loans from his predecessor do not affect the
argument.
Footnote 118:
But, as usual, Pescetti fails to take full advantage of this motif.
During the wordy progress of the drama we lose sight of Antony, and
only a few lines at the end suggest him as the Nemesis of the
conspirators.
Footnote 119:
See section on Portia.
THE OTHER CHARACTERS
I
There is little in Pescetti’s presentation of the figure of Cassius
suggestive of the splendidly drawn portrait in “Julius Caesar.” Pescetti
found it a difficult matter to differentiate between Brutus and Cassius;
much that the latter says or does throughout might with equal propriety
have been assigned to his fellow conspirator. Both seem to be of one
mind in most matters; only in the two important scenes already
noted[120] does Cassius seem possessed of any distinct individuality. In
one his caution is emphasized, in the other his rashness in the face of
danger.
II
Pescetti was little more fortunate in his characterization of Antony. He
is hardly more than a puppet who acts the part of an echo to Caesar in
the dialogue before mentioned, indulges in a soliloquy, and then
vanishes from the scene. Obviously Pescetti intended him to play the
part of the tried friend and counsellor, but there is nothing resembling
individuality in his speeches. He talks like a book, and has about at
much true vitality as an automaton. Possibly the soliloquy was
introduced to contrast his ideas on dominion with those of Calpurnia on
the same subject, and to lend force to the dictum contained in the
concluding passage of the play:
“Che questo mondo è una perpetua guerra,
Ove l’un l’altro atterra,
E si tosto, ch’un manca
Rinasce un’ altro, e ’l mondo si rinfranca.”—Ces., p. 149.
This is not a bad dramatic device, but the progress of the plot is so
obstructed by the mass of needless declamation, that long before the
end, all thought of Antony as a possible successor to Caesar has escaped
the reader. In Antony’s recital of his secret longings, he reveals
traits which justify us in classifying his utterances as those
appropriate to a crafty opportunist. Pescetti could describe his
characters acceptably enough, either in their own words, or in those of
others, but he could not exhibit them successfully in action; hence,
this soliloquy, while ineffective in his own drama, could readily
furnish hints which a better dramatic artist could use to advantage. To
this Antony, nothing is dearer than dominion; for him there is no bliss
comparable to the “sweet fruition of an earthly crown.”
“. . . . . . . Ma sperar tanto
Non oso. Pur chi sà quel, ch’ordinato
Sia nel celeste regno? A me medesmo
Di non mancar deliberato sono,
Se mi presenta occasione il cielo,
E mi mostra la via di conseguire
Quel, che può farmi un’ altro Giove in terra,
A pormi in man dell’ universo il freno.
In tanto io cercherò per ogni via,
D’accattar appo il popolo favore,
E di farmi benevoli i soldati,
Acciò, mancando Cesare per morte
O naturale, ò violenta, i possa
Col mezzo lor por sù quel grado il piede,
Ov’ hà condutto lui benigna Stella.”—P. 72.
Antony disappears after this scene, and no mention is made of him again
till near the end of the tragedy, where he is described as having fled
to his house after the murder. Unfortunately, Pescetti fails to give
Antony an opportunity to realize his ambition, but he provides material
for the delineation of a counter player who would have delighted the
Elizabethan dramatists. Pescetti certainly was not amiss in his estimate
of the character, but it remained for a greater dramatist to exhibit him
in action.
Antony does not appear in the fifth act of “Cesare,” but there is
between several of his statements in Shakespeare, and those contained in
Pescetti, a marked similarity in style and sentiment. Some of these have
already been indicated. Among others, Antony over Caesar’s body,
exclaims,
“Pardon me, Julius! Here was’t thou bay’d, brave hart;
Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand,
Sign’d in they spoil and crimson’d in thy lethe.
. . . . .
How like a deer strucken by many princes
Dost thou here lie!”—III., 1, 205.
It must be remembered that Antony’s “credit stands on slippery grounds,”
and it is hardly to be expected that he would use, at this critical
moment, the simile employed by the Messenger in Pescetti as he laments
the murder:
“Non fu mai fatto si crudele strazio
Di mansueto agnello
Da un gregge di rabbiosi
E famelici lupi,
Com’ han del Signor mio quest’ empi fatto.
Parean cani bramosi
D’insanguinar l’acuto
Dente, e l’avide labbia
Nella già morta fiera.”—P. 120.
There seems in Antony’s lament, an echo of Mars’ threats in the Prologue
to “Cesare.”
_Ant._— “ . . . . .
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war:
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Caesar’s spirit ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice
Cry ‘Havoc’, and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.” (III., 1, 263).
_Marte._— “Strage orribil vedrai; dell’ empio sangue
Correranno le strade, e quai torrenti
Porteran l’arme, e i corpi morti al mare.
Fin di quì n’ udirai lo scoppio, e ’l grido.”—P. 6.
Jove commands Mars:
“Mescola sdegni, odi, discordie, versa
Sopra il popol Roman furor, disio
Di sangue, di vendetta, ond’ alla fine
Tutti gli empi dal mondo il ferro tolga.”—P. 11.
The idea of civil strife is found all through the last act of Pescetti,
and is probably due to the influence of Appian, who details the horrors
following the proscription.
III
Historically and critically, the Brutus-Portia scenes in “Cesare” are of
prime importance: historically, because here for the first time in any
play on this subject does Portia figure among the actors; critically,
because the Italian dramatist avails himself of the same episode chosen
from the same source and treated broadly along the same lines later
followed by Shakespeare.
Pescetti, of all the dramatists of Caesar’s fortunes, seems to have been
the first to realize the dramatic value of the Brutus-Portia
scenes.[121] Like Shakespeare, he found his material in Plutarch, and
while he does not adhere as faithfully to the Plutarchian sequence, the
correspondence in the motifs he employs is so close as to render the
presentation of parallels peculiar alone to the two dramatists, a matter
of extreme difficulty, and in most instances, of doubtful value. With
perhaps two exceptions, to be noted later, there are no hints in
Shakespeare’s treatment which he could not have derived from Plutarch, a
fact, however, which in no way invalidates the hypothesis herein
advanced that Pescetti’s inclusion of Portia influenced Shakespeare to
introduce her in his drama. “Julius Caesar” without her would have lost
nothing in technical completeness, whatever it might have forfeited in
human interest. Voltaire, with Shakespeare’s example before him,
excluded Portia from his drama on the ground that the introduction of a
love element would detract from the high seriousness he considered
proper to his tragic hero. Technically, his drama is sufficiently
satisfactory, but like in Muretus and in Grévin, her exclusion injures
the fullness of his characterization of Brutus, and robs his tragedy of
a character which, skilfully handled, would greatly have enhanced its
popular appeal.
Shakespeare’s Portia is a character with which we would grudgingly part.
Beautiful in herself, her presence serves to bring the softer side of
Brutus into relief, while after her husband’s departure on his fateful
mission, her mental anguish serves admirably to increase in the mind of
the spectator the presentiment of impending disaster.
Pescetti, like Shakespeare, makes Portia occupy a relatively small part
in the action, perhaps for the same reason that prompted the greater
dramatist. We are irresistibly attracted to the latter’s Portia, and her
persistence in the action would inevitably have led to a divided
interest. Possibly Pescetti was dramatist enough to realize this and
acted accordingly. His Portia, like Shakespeare’s, serves further to
broaden our conception of her husband’s character, while in herself, she
is portrayed with power sufficient to revive, at her appearance, the
flagging interest of the modern reader, even though she seems at times a
Brutus in female attire, and shows a fondness for dialectic more
appropriate to the schoolman than to the Roman matron.
From the evidence presented in Pescetti’s handling of this theme little
is adducible in support of the hypothesis advanced above; its
probability must rest upon the cumulative evidence favoring
Shakespeare’s knowledge of “Cesare” presented in the course of this
work.
Yet, while these scenes offer little of value for our purpose, their
historical significance, and the fact that, as far as can be determined,
this is the first time that the matter has been dwelt upon in the
literature of the subject,[122] must excuse the expository character of
much that follows.
In Pescetti, Portia appears three times: once in the first act in the
scene immediately following that between Brutus and Cassius; in the
second act with Brutus alone; and lastly, in the same act in a scene
wherein both overhear Calpurnia’s lament to her Nurse. In the first
scene Brutus has little to say. The dialogue is carried on mainly with
Cassius. On her first appearance Portia indulges in a soliloquy:
“Non senza gran cagion stamane uscito
Si per tempo di casa è il mio consorte:
Gran cose ei tratta certo, e se non erra
Il mio pensier, egli apparecchia il giusto
Premio al Tiranno ingiusto, se pur giusto
Può darsi premio ad huom si ingiusto, et empio.
Ah perchè il sesso mio non mi permette
Vestir gonne maschili, e ne’ consigli
Mescolarmi de gli huomini, e le cose
Trattar della Republica, e di duro
Acciar gravando il corpo in prò di quella
L’asta, e la spada oprar?”—P. 28.
She longs to dye her sword in the tyrant’s blood. This is a Portia, more
like the Roman matrons who could calmly watch the bloody shows in the
amphitheatre than resembling the idealized portrait of Shakespeare. Yet,
considering her terrible suicide,[123] perhaps Pescetti had the truer
conception of her real character. That, in spite of her martial bearing,
he appreciated her more womanly traits, is evident from the tenor of
Cassius’ address, even though it does reflect the attitude of the
Renaissance courtier:
“Molto per tempo esci di casa, ò Porzia,
Porzia, di pudicizia raro esempio,
E della matronal prudenza chiaro,
E purissimo specchio, viva imago
Di quel saggio; appo cui fu stolto quale
Più saggio ebbe la Grecia; alla cui morte
Morì la libertade, e nello stesso
Sepolcro a canto a lui volle esser posta,
Qual facenda a quest’ora, oltra l’usato
Tuo, quà ti mena? Senza gran cagione
Non è ciò fermamente, che non suoli
Tu, se non per gravissime, e importanti
Cagioni uscir in pubblico; ma come
A grave, e saggia femmina conviensi
Dentro a muri domestici in onesti
Studi passar il tempo, riputando
Degna d’eterna lode quella donna,
La cui bellezza a pochi, ma la fama
È nota a molti, che non fa del corpo
Nelle pubbliche piazze, e ne’ teatri
A cupid’ occhi, ma alle caste menti
Fa di sua pudicizia altiera mostra.”—Pp. 29–30.
To Cassius’ compliments, and his inquiry as to her early rising, she
replies that the love she bears her country demands that she be made a
party to their plans. It is in vain that they withhold secrets from a
loving woman. Cassius assures her that no one doubts her worth and
constancy, but the matters they contemplate are such that it would be
unwise to risk their discovery. Yet, since she longs to know, he will
tell her.
“Noi trattiam di trarre
Di sotto al giogo Roma, e di riporla
Nello stato, ond’ altrui spietata, e ingorda
Voglia di dominar la trasse a forza.”—Ces., p. 31.
He asks her to aid the cause with her prayers. This is not much to her
liking; she would rather draw a sword against the tyrant. Cassius
assures her that the prayers of woman have often had greater force than
that of arms. Her reply is one of Pescetti’s unconscious gems of humor:
“Io dunque, poich’ à me stringer non lice
Contra il Tiranno il ferro, con la lingua
Gli farò cruda, e dispietata guerra.”—P. 32.
Towards the end of the scene Brutus indulges in an exultant outburst. He
seems already to hear the paeans of joy resounding throughout Rome at
the news of the Dictator’s death. The scene concludes as Portia invokes
Heaven’s blessing on the conspirators’ enterprise. She announces her
readiness to die, if failure attend their efforts, for the love she
bears her husband is such that she cannot live without him.
We get a nearer approach to Shakespeare’s treatment in Portia’s dialogue
with Brutus. This is opened by Brutus, who perceiving that Portia has
wounded herself, and thinking that she had sustained the injury in the
discharge of some household duty, reproves her for turning her hands to
the lowly tools of the housewife. She replies:
“Hò voluto far prova, s’in me tanto
Regni animo, et ardir, che darmi possa
Di mia man morte, occasion venendo,
Ch’il morir bello, ò necessario sia.”—P. 49.
Brutus admires her courage, and inquires the reason for her fears. She
assures him that often fortune opposes merit, and she fears for his
safety. He loftily replies that fortune can no more prevail against the
virtue of his enterprise than the raging sea against the immovable
rocks. At this, Portia, in spite of her martial bearing heretofore,
begins to exhibit the same vacillation as Shakespeare’s Portia. Fears
for her husband now dominate; the Amazon is lost in the wife. She
replies:
“Tuttavia, benche lei[124] non vinca mai,
Impedisce sovente i suoi disegni;
Et io, s’avvien (che no ’l consenta il cielo)
Che ciò, che tenti, abbia infelice effetto,
E dove pensi dar, riceva morte,
Hò stabilito di tenerti dietro.”—Pp. 49–50.
_Bru._— “Lodo, Porzia, et ammiro la grandezza,
E generosità della tua mente
Sprezzatrice del fato, e della morte,
E sopra modo pregiomi, et altiero
Vò di consorte tal.”
Yet he does not approve of her design, and conjures her, by the love she
bears him, to refrain from all thoughts of self-destruction. Portia
replies that she cannot live if he die;
“Porzia di Bruto moglie, e di Catone
Figlia? soffrir il volto del Tiranno,
Onde sia giunto a crudel morte il padre
Et il marito, potrà Porzia? O Bruto
Quanto più ti stimava accorto, e saggio?
Dunque in tant’ anni, che vissuto hai meco
Non hai l’animo mio compreso appieno?
Dell’ amor, ch’io ti porto, ancor potuto
Non ho farti ben chiaro? E tu mi stimi
Si poco amante, ch’io potessi senza
Tè star un’ ora in vita? _Bru._ Io sò, che m’ami:
Ma sò dall’ altra parte, che non meno
Saggia, che amante se’.”—P. 50.
The scene is now spun out to include a series of mutual protestations of
love. It concludes as Calpurnia is seen coming out of the temple,
whereupon Brutus and Portia descend from amatory dialogue to vulgar
eavesdropping.
Plutarch relates that when Portia showed Brutus the wound in her thigh,
“he was amazed to hear what she said to him, and lifting up his hands to
heaven, he besought the gods to give him the grace he might bring his
enterprise in so good pass, that he might be found a husband worthy of
so noble a wife as Portia: so then he did comfort her the best he
could.”[125] Pescetti does not rest Brutus’ appreciation of his wife on
this basis; he rejoices in the possession of a wife so spirited.
Shakespeare idealizes the situation in Brutus’ exclamation:
“O ye gods!
Render me worthy of this noble wife.”
Near the end of the third scene in which Portia figures, and wherein she
and her husband overhear Calpurnia’s determination to prevent her
husband from attending the session of the Senate, Brutus advises her to
go home while he goes to join the conspirators. The scene concludes as
she speeds him with her blessing.
Throughout these scenes Pescetti utilizes many of the motifs derived
from Plutarch, which Shakespeare afterwards included in his treatment.
But the emphasis upon several of them has been shifted; the similarity
in parts between the two authors is due mainly to this common source.
There are but two points of importance wherein distinctly individual
resemblance is noticeable. Both in Pescetti and in Shakespeare, as has
previously been pointed out, Portia enters the scene under practically
the same attendant circumstances. In both dramas she appears immediately
after the completion of the details of the assassination. Brutus says to
Cassius:
“Ma giamo ad informar del tutto gli altri,
Acciò gli spirti destino, e le forze,
Et apparecchin l’arme all’ alta impresa.
_Cas._— Aspetta, ch’esce fuor di casa Porzia.”—P. 28.
Hereupon Portia enters.
Shakespeare has:
_Cas._— The morning comes upon’s. We’ll leave you Brutus,
And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember
What you have said and show yourselves true Romans.
_Bru._— And, 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. Brutus remains._ Act II., 1.
Immediately after the few lines to Lucius, Portia enters. While it may
be simply a coincidence, it is worth remarking that in both dramas
Portia arises in the early morning to seek her husband. There is no
warrant for this in Plutarch. That Pescetti should have the conspirators
perfecting their plans in the early morning may be regarded as a
necessity of his dramatic form. Plutarch does not suggest this touch.
Possibly Shakespeare considered it a gain in dramatic effectiveness to
have the conspiracy confirmed during the tempestuous night. Perhaps
Pescetti’s treatment influenced him. In both dramas the interrogator
comments upon Portia’s early rising.
_Cassius_— Molto per tempo esci di casa, ò Porzia.—Ces., p. 29.
_Brutus_— Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
It is not for your health thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw, cold morning.
Portia in soliloquy says:
Non senza gran cagion stamane uscito
Si per tempo di casa è il mio consorte.—Ces., p. 28.
In Shakespeare we read:
_Portia_— ... You’ve ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed.
Plutarch says: “So when the day was come, Brutus went out of his house
with a dagger by his side under his long gown, that nobody saw nor knew
but his wife only.” (Marcus Brutus, p. 116.) Thus, according to the
biographer, the conspiracy had been perfected days before and Portia by
this time evidently knew of it.
Neither is there any warrant in the histories for Portia’s prayer for
Brutus:
“O Brutus,
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!”—Act II., Sc.
IV.
Similarly, in Pescetti, Portia’s last words are a blessing on Brutus:
“Và, che ti scorga, e ti difenda Giove.”—P. 58.
Even closer is her prayer at the conclusion of Brutus’ rapturous
outburst in her scene with Cassius:
“Ite, ò forti, ite ò saggi, ite ò de gli alti
Legnaggi, onde scendete, degni; il Cielo
Secondi i desir vostri.”—P. 33.
These coincidences may be simply accidental, but taken in connection
with many other points of contact between the two dramas, they assume
greater significance, and lend strength to the hypothesis herein
advanced: that Shakespeare was influenced by Pescetti’s treatment to
include the Brutus-Portia scenes in his own drama.
IV
Pescetti’s other principal feminine character is the conventional lay
figure of the drama of his time: a lifeless automaton who seems to exist
solely for the purpose of indulging in intolerably wordy
lamentations.[126] Yet Pescetti has put in the mouth of this lachrymose
puppet a few lines which form the closest parallel to be found between
the two plays.
D. Brutus thus replies to Caesar’s depreciation of his flattery:
_D. B._— “Non è lingua mortal per pronta, e scaltra
Che sia, non è di dir si ricca vena,
Nè si divino ingegno, che, non dico
Degnamente lodar, ma narrar possa
Le sopr’umane eroiche tue prove.
E se vivesse il grande Omero, altrove
Certo non volgeria l’alto suo stile,
Che a cantar i tuoi fatti eccelsi, e magni,
E tema vil reputaria lo sdegno
D’Achille, e i lunghi error del saggio Ulisse.”
Hereupon Calpurnia exclaims:
“Ahi pur, ch’anzi a gli Euripidi non porga
Materia, onde risuonino i teatri
Ne’secoli avvenir le sue sventure.”
This outburst is entirely lost on Caesar, who says:
“A parlar d’altro omai volgiamo i nostri
Ragionamenti;” . . . .—Ces., pp. 105–106.
Calpurnia’s prophetic doubt is placed in such a setting that its
dramatic effect is lost. This, it seems, was too tempting a morsel for
Shakespeare’s keen sense of dramatic fitness to overlook, and at the
moment when the conspirators have reached the climax of their success,
we find him assigning Calpurnia’s speech to the exultant Cassius, to
stir the audience with its theatrical effect and to bewilder generations
of future critics.
_Cas._— “How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over,
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!”
_Bru._— “How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey’s basis lies along
No worthier than the dust.”[127] (III, 1, 112.)
I regard this as the most remarkable parallel between the work of
Pescetti and that of Shakespeare. It is entirely too close in word and
content to be fortuitous. The dramatic effect of Cassius’ outburst is
undeniable; yet its dramatic truth is questionable. All the more so
since the speech of Cassius immediately following,
“. . . . . . . So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call’d
The men that gave their country liberty,”
has always impressed me as an anticlimax. This, both in word and in
thought, coming so soon after his noble speech, produces the same
unpleasant effect as,
“O world, thou wast the forest to this hart,
And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee,”
which, intruded into Antony’s lament, has caused many critics to regard
these lines as interpolations. Nor does Cassius’ first exalted outburst
seem in keeping with his character. Of all the conspirators he is the
last whom we would expect to find indulging in raptures at such a
critical moment. Far more in keeping are his next words,
“Ay, every man away:
Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.”
This indeed is Cassius; every man on the alert, and every energy bent to
insure the successful conclusion of their enterprise.
But, whatever its fitness to the character, Shakespeare, from the point
of view of effect, certainly could have found no better place for its
introduction. Doubtless, in his day the gentry clenched their pipes,
while the gaping groundlings clutched their greasy jerkins, both
animated by the same feeling that oversways the modern audience at these
ringing prophetic phrases. And then the simple stage direction, “Enter a
servant:” the beginning of the end! For sheer dramatic effect few
passages in Shakespeare surpass it.
V
The other persons in “Cesare” may be dismissed in a few words. The Nurse
and the Priest are simply the conventional lay figures of the drama of
the time, while Decimus Brutus seems to have been included because he
happened to be in the histories. Neither he nor Lenate possesses any
individuality, and considered solely in themselves, contribute nothing
of value to this investigation.
-----
Footnote 120:
In regard to Antony and the Popilius Lena episode.
Footnote 121:
In Muretus she has no place in the action. Brutus refers to her in his
soliloquy: Act II., lines 107 ff.
_Brutus_— “. . . Haec parum si te movent,
Tua jam, vir ut sis, te satis conjux monet,
Fidem cruore quae tibi obstrinxit suam,
Testata sic se avunculi prolem tui.
Si ab exequendis te avocat coeptis timor,
Animusque pigro torpet ignavus gelu,
Ex femina perdisce, quid deceat virum.”
This is the only reference to Portia throughout the drama. Grévin
makes no mention of her, while Garnier, in his “Porcie” (1568) treats
of events following the death of Caesar.
Footnote 122:
I know of but two notices of these scenes, neither being much more
than a mere mention. Neri says: “Su tutte ancora primeggia il Cesare
d’Orlando Pescetti, che per il rilievo della figura di Bruto, tratta
da Plutarco—vedi la bella scena di Porzia nel secondo atto, etc.” (La
Tragedia italiana nel Cinquecento, Ferdinando Neri, Firenze, 1904, p.
158.) It is also referred to by Emilio Bertana in “La tragedia,”
Milano, 1904, p. 75 ff.
Footnote 123:
Plutarch notes that she was of a “noble courage.”
Footnote 124:
That is, Fortune.
Footnote 125:
Marcus Brutus, p. 116. Skeat.
In the “Julius Caesar” of Sir William Alexander, (Earl of Stirling)
written a few years after Shakespeare’s play, there is a decided
similarity between some portions of the Brutus-Portia scenes and those
in Pescetti. The prologue seems an echo of Pescetti’s. Nor do these
portions have anything verbally in common with Seneca, the model of
both tragedies. See Conclusion, page 121.
Footnote 126:
Many of the motifs of the Calpurnia-Nurse scene in Pescetti are
derived from Muretus. Others are reminiscent of Grévin.
Footnote 127:
Malone long ago suggested that this scene probably refers to the
popularity of the play on the stage, and that it points to other
contemporary dramas on the same subject. Prolegomena, II, ff. 448–9.
Ed. 1823. Prof. Sykes sees in it a dramatic device to emphasize the
reality of the presentation. “Julius Caesar” note, page 142.
“CESARE” IN ENGLAND
Pescetti’s work, tedious as it is to the modern reader, was not without
its attractions to the Elizabethan. An age which could produce
“Polyolbions” could very well tolerate a “Cesare.” It was cast in the
popular dramatic form, dealt with a popular theme, and above all, came
from a land inseparably connected in the public mind with romance and
tragedy. To the Elizabethan, “Ex Italia, semper aliquid novi.” That the
work was probably known to English authors receives additional support
from the use seemingly made of it by Sir William Alexander (Earl of
Stirling) in his own “Tragedy of Julius Caesar.”
Alexander’s work was issued about 1604–7. Of it, Dr. T. A. Lester says:
“In general it may be said that Alexander follows Grévin, availing
himself not only of Grévin’s original scenes, but also of Grévin’s
non-Plutarchian order.... There can be little doubt that Alexander’s
‘Julius Caesar’ is nothing but Grévin’s ‘Cesar’ rewritten and
enlarged.”[128] Alexander followed Grévin, but he did so with an
admixture of Pescetti.
Prof. H. M. Ayres claims that Alexander got his Prologue from the
Hercules Furens of Seneca, substituting Caesar for Hercules as the
object of Juno’s wrath. Pescetti’s Prologue is one of the curious things
about his drama. Such an introduction is lacking in both Muretus and
Grévin.[129] Possibly both Alexander and Pescetti got their idea from
Seneca, but there are parallels in content between the two which are
only faintly adumbrated in the Latin author. Juno’s censure of Jove’s
amours in the Scotchman’s work bears a very close resemblance to the
denunciations of Venus as recorded by the Italian. The threat of civil
strife and discord are found in each. But more important is the fact
that in certain scenes lacking in Grévin, there is a close parallel
between Alexander and Pescetti.
Thus, in the dialogue concerning Antony, Pescetti has:
_Cas._— Parmi d’avere scorto in Marcantonio
Disio di dominar: perciò s’in tutto
Vogliam la patria assicurar, spegniamo
Anco lui col Tiranno, e fuor degli occhi
Tragghiamci questo stecco, che potrebbe,
Quando che sia, non poca briga darne.
Che tu sai ben, quanto li siano amici
I veterani, e quanto acconcio ei sia
Gli animi a concitar del volgo insano.
_Bru._— S’ad altri, oltre al Tiranno, darem morte,
Si stimerà dal volgo, che le cose
Sempre stravolge, e falsamente espone,
Che non disio di liberar la patria,
Ma privato odio, e brama di vendetta
A ciò sospinti n’abbia, e di quell’opra,
Onde da noi s’attende eterna fama,
N’acquisterem vergogna, e biasmo eterno:
E dove nome di pietà cerchiamo,
Sarem del titol d’empietà notati;
Nè perciò a noi gran fatto avrem giovato:
. . . . . . . . . . .
In somma e’ non si deve
Punir, chi non hà errato, e a me non basta
L’animo di dar morte a chi nocciuto
Non m’hà, nè fatto ingiuria.
. . . . . . . . . . .
_Cas._— Bruto, tu se’ troppo pietoso; voglia
Il Ciel, che questa tua pietà non sia
Un giorno a noi crudel. Nel risanare
Dall’ ulcere nascenti i corpi il ferro,
E ’l fuoco oprar convien, che tu ben sai,
Che’l medico pietoso infistolisce
La piaga, e spesso tutto il corpo infetta.
In the “Tragedy of Julius Caesar” we read:
_Cass._— . . . . .
There is Antonius, Caesars greatest friend,
A man whose nature tyranny affects,
Whom all the soldiers daily do attend,
As one who nought but to command respects;
. . . . .
And in my judgment I would thinke it best,
When sacrific’d the proud usurper lyes,
That this seditious enemy of rest
Should fall with him, with whom he first did rise:
Thus, of our liberty we now may lay
A solid ground, which can be shak’t by none;
. . . . .
_Brut._— I cannot, Cassius, condescend to kill,
(Thus from the path of justice to decline)
One faultlesse yet, lest after he prove ill,
So to prevent his guiltinesse by mine;
No, no, that neither honest were, nor just,
Which rigorous forme would but the world affright,
Men by this meane, our meaning might mistrust,
And for a little wrong damne all that’s right:
If we do only kill the common foe,
Our countries zeale must then acquire due praise
But if (like tyrants) fiercely raging so,
We will be thought that which we raze to raise;
And where we but intend to aide the state,
Though by endangering what we hold most deare,
If slaying him (as arm’d by private hate)
We to the world all partiall will appeare.
. . . . .
_Cass._— Well Brutus, I protest against my will,
From this black cloud, whatever tempest fall,
That mercy but most cruelly doth kill,
Which thus saves one, who once may plague us all.
Page 279 et seq., Glasgow ed., 1872.
This is not in Grévin, neither is the Brutus-Portia scene. Here again,
there are significant points of contact. Alexander’s whole handling of
the scene resembles Pescetti’s treatment, while in individual sections
the parallels are almost verbal. Portia’s attitude throughout is
reminiscent of Pescetti’s delineation. In both dramas the conspiracy is
revealed to her; in both she proffers her help; in both she falls back
on prayer as her best aid; in both the failure of the plot means her
self-destruction.[130] She says:
“Though nature, sexe, and education breed
No power in me, with such a purpose even,
I must lend help to this intended deed,
If vows and pray’rs may penetrate the heaven;
But difficulties huge my fancie findes,
Nought, save the successe, can defray my feare:
‘Ah! fortune alwayes frownes on worthy mindes
As hating all who trust in ought save her.’
Yet I despaire not but thou may’st prevaile,
And by this course to ease my present grones,
I this advantage have which cannot faile:
I’ll be a free-man’s wife, or else be nones:
For, if all prosper not as we pretend
And that the heavens Romes bondage to decree,
Straight with thy liberty my life shall end,
Who have no comfort but what comes from thee;
My father hath me taught what way to dye,
By which if hindred from encountring death,
Some other meanes, I (though more strange) must try;
For after Brutus, none shall see me breathe.”
(Tragedy of Julius Caesar, pp. 268–69, Vol. 2, Glasgow edition, 1872.)
In Pescetti Portia says:
“Più volentier la man di ferro contra
Il Tiranno armerei, che di preghiere
La lingua, e’l cuor: ma poichè ciò mi niega
Il sesso mio, con quel, ch’a me conviensi
E lice, aiuterò la santa impresa.”—Ces., p. 32.
“Ite, ò forti, ite ò saggi, ite ò de gli alti
Legnaggi, onde scendete, degni; il Cielo
Secondi i desir vostri: Scorga, e regga
Benigno i piedi, e le man vostre Giove,
Tu vedi, ò Porzia, in che periglio posta
Del tuo consorte la salute sia.
Or di mestier t’è preparar il petto
A colpi della morte, s’egli avviene,
Che’l Ciel (sia lunge ogni sinistro augurio)
Contrasti a generosi suoi disegni.
O libera convien, che viva, ò chiugga
Con glorioso fin degno del padre,
E del marito tuo la vita: In questa
Luce di padre libero venisti,
Et a marito libero congiunta
Vivesti, ch’ambo altieramente amaro
Di più tosto morir, che viver servi:
Si che di spirti generosi, e maschi
Arma il femminil petto, e’l cuor rinforza;
Onde con fin del nascimento degno,
E della vita tua la vita chiuda.”—Pp. 33–34.
She says to Brutus:
“Dell’ amor, ch’io ti porto, ancor potuto
Non ho farti ben chiaro? E tu mi stimi
Si poco amante, ch’io potessi senza
Tè star un ora in vita?”—P. 50.
“Or tu non sai
Quanto sovente a generosi sforzi
Soglia fortuna ingiuriosa opporsi?”—P. 49.
Following his lofty response she says:
“Tuttavia, benche lei[131] non vinca mai,
Impedisce sovente i suoi disegni.”—P. 49.
There is no historical warrant for Portia’s contemplated suicide at this
time. In both dramas Brutus’ reply is the same in content:
“Do not defraud the world of thy rare worth,
But of thy Brutus the remembrance love;
From this fair prison strive not to breake forth,
Till first the fates have forc’d thee to remove.”—P. 269.
In Pescetti, Brutus says:
“Ma che accidente pensi tu, che possa
Addivenir, ch’armar contra te stessa
Le man ti stringa, e innanzi tempo l’alma
Spigner del caro albergo?”—P. 49.
“Ma non approvo
Già il tuo consiglio, e pregoti, per quanto
Amor mi porti, ch’ à sì fiera voglia
Dij del tuo petto bando, e l’ora aspetti
Prefissa al tuo partir da questa vita.”—P. 50.
Her “rare worth” is emphasized by Brutus:
“Ma non consentirà Giove, che donna
Sì valorosa, e bella, a dar salute
A mille altri atta, se medesma uccida.”—P. 52.
Alexander also makes Cassius mention that Laena had accosted him, and
expressed the wish that his desires might prosper, thus making Cassius
suspect the conspiracy was discovered. This parallels Brutus’ experience
in Pescetti. Decius refers to the banquet at the house of Lepidus and
Caesar’s opinions on death. This is also mentioned in Pescetti.
Alexander’s recital of Caesar’s perturbation, as he describes it in
soliloquy, is too long to quote, but it is simply an echo of Calpurnia’s
state of mind as revealed in Pescetti.
If we can assume that Alexander was acquainted with Pescetti’s drama, as
these parallels seem to indicate, we have no reason for supposing that
it was unknown to the literati of his time. “Cesare” was popular enough
to go through two editions in Italy. Alexander was a man of wide
reading, but no more so than was Ben Jonson. Possibly Alexander was
indebted to the latter for his knowledge of Pescetti’s work.[132]
Alexander’s drama followed that of Shakespeare. If he knew Pescetti’s
work some few years after the composition of Shakespeare’s drama, there
is no reason to deny to Jonson, the most learned author of his day, a
prior acquaintance.
In this connection, the hypothesis advanced by Frederick Gard
Fleay,[133] regarding the two-part nature of Shakespeare’s play, assumes
new significance. According to him, “Julius Caesar” was originally
written in two parts, “Caesar’s Tragedy” and “Caesar’s Revenge,”
following a custom of the time, and that through some exigency the two
were later merged into the play as we now have it. This is not the place
to enter this controversy. Fleay presents his reasons, and among them
the fact that in “Julius Caesar” the name Antony occurs without the h,
contrary to Shakespeare’s custom in his other plays wherein the name
occurs. It may be well to suggest here that the prevalent fondness for
Italian names probably prompted the use of the name as found in
Pescetti: Antonio or Marcantonio. But especially significant is Fleay’s
surmise that it was Jonson who performed the merging of the two plays,
and who is, therefore, responsible for the present form. If this be the
case, it may well be that Jonson introduced “Cesare” to Shakespeare’s
notice, for notwithstanding its tediousness, it was cast in a form which
appealed to Ben’s classic taste. The hypothetical “Tragedy of Julius
Caesar” could well have been inspired by Pescetti’s drama, for the first
three acts of “Julius Caesar” as we have it now, form a satisfactory
dramatic whole, and all of Shakespeare’s assumed indebtedness to the
Italian is contained in these three acts.
Jonson’s “Sejanus,” whose composition was probably prompted by the
popularity of Shakespeare’s work in the same field, followed “Julius
Caesar” in 1603. The friendly relations existing at this time between
the two great dramatists is sufficiently attested by the fact that
Shakespeare was one of the actors in Jonson’s tragedy. “Julius Caesar”
as we now have it appears first in the 1623 folio; what alterations were
made in the preceding twenty years are matters of speculation. Jonson
was sufficiently interested in its success is strive to rival it along
purely classic lines, while about the only criticism of a Shakespearean
play that we possess from Ben deals with a speech in “Julius
Caesar.”[134] It seems, therefore, within the bounds of probability that
Jonson may have introduced “Cesare” to Shakespeare’s notice.
There were, however, other means whereby Shakespeare may have become
acquainted with “Cesare.” Much as we know of his wonderful age, we do
not even now realize its vast and all-embracing activities, especially
in literature. Translations by the score were made from the
Italian.[135] Plagiarism, especially from foreign sources, was rampant;
nor was such plagiarism decried.[136] Shakespeare may not have known
Italian, yet the evidence to the contrary is steadily growing stronger.
Italian was the fashion in his day; many of his colleagues had travelled
in Italy; many knew the language. His patron, Southampton, spoke Italian
fluently, while among his guests Italian scholars were conspicuous. Amid
such surroundings it is well-nigh inconceivable that Shakespeare failed
to come into intimate contact with the Italian literature of the day.
Recent research renders it almost positive that he not only did, but
that he was sufficiently versed in the language to read the literature
in the original tongue. We marvel at his intimate descriptions of
Italian life, explicable, apparently, only on the supposition that he
was an eye-witness of the scenes he describes. We wonder at the
familiarity with Italian authors evident upon a close examination of his
work. Brandes, in his study of Othello[137] calls attention to several
portions of that drama, which both in content and expression, form too
close a parallel to the Italian of Ariosto and Berni to be accidental.
More recently, Professor Carlo Segré[138] has pointed to places in
Othello explicable only upon the supposition that Shakespeare was
intimately acquainted with the Italian version of Cinthio.
“Segré disagrees with Sidney Lee, who avers that Shakespeare borrowed
from Italian sources, only bare outlines and general ideas which lent
themselves to his scheme, and that these in his masterly hands were so
arranged and reconstructed as to be almost unrecognizable. In Segré’s
opinion, Shakespeare studied the Italian literature, not only with the
analysis of a man of letters, but also with the careful attention and
open mind of a poet, for the benefit he drew from these sources was
chosen with consummate art and critical skill, according to what seemed
most useful to him in the exercise of his marvellous gifts.”[139] As we
have seen, Shakespeare’s procedure with “Cesare” differed in no
essentials from his usual method.
Even if Shakespeare knew no Italian, it was still possible for him to
become fairly familiar with “Cesare.” Shakespeare was a dramatist
because the drama was profitable. Like a keen playwright, he studied the
taste of his public. The story of Caesar was no new one to
theatre-goers. Other plays on the subject had met with success. The
chronicle history had had its day, and with its waning popularity
Shakespeare turned to that hazy, romantic epoch in history when Rome was
mistress of the world; for in his day Rome’s name still loomed large in
the imagination of mankind. The great dramatist never scrupled to
appropriate the efforts of others, when, by the transforming power of
his genius, he might use them to further the success of his own work.
The more we know of the Elizabethan world, the more modern it seems to
us. No doubt, in those days as in these, theatrical managers were ever
on the lookout for promising material. Perhaps Jonson did not introduce
“Cesare” to his notice, yet what was to prevent Shakespeare’s employing
lowly but learned hacks to investigate plays or other works, both native
and foreign, which promised to provide adequate material for his own
dramas? There is nothing startlingly novel in this assumption, although
it seems to have been overlooked in the discussions concerning the
poet’s linguistic knowledge. It had been done before; it was done
afterwards. Association and collaboration were common. What one man
lacked another supplied. Why did Henslowe, in 1602, commission Munday,
Drayton, Webster, Middleton, and “the rest,” to write a “sesers falle”?
Why so many to write one play? No doubt many an old drama was ransacked
for material, many an ancient source laid under contribution, many a
verbal jewel or entire scene torn from its setting to grace the new
production. Shakespeare, employing scholarly searchers, who brought to
his notice whatever they considered valuable in the material they
investigated, had no need of knowing various languages. He wanted the
ideas; his imagination provided the rest.
There was no lack of books. The late Professor J. Churton Collins, in
his consideration of Shakespeare as a classical scholar, says: “The
collection of books was not only the fashion, but the passion of the
age. His friend Ben Jonson had one of the finest private libraries in
England, so had Camden and Cotton, and their liberality in lending books
was proverbial. He could have had books from the library of Southampton
and through Southampton from the libraries of others of the nobility.
The magnificent collection of Parker at Lambeth would have been open to
him, as well as the collection at Gresham College. There was the Queen’s
library at Whitehall, well stored according to Hentzner, who visited it
in 1598, with Greek, Latin, Italian, and French books. What afterwards
formed the nucleus of the Bodleian at Oxford, which contains, by the
way, an Aldine Ovid, with his name in autograph, to all appearances
genuine, on the title-page, was during the last decade of the sixteenth
century almost within a stone’s throw of the Black Friars Theatre.”[140]
-----
Footnote 128:
“Connections between the Drama of France and Great Britain,
particularly in the Elizabethan Period.” Harvard Dissertation, 1900
(unpublished), quoted by Ayres.
Footnote 129:
Alexander’s Prologue is the first act of the drama. Juno delivers a
long monologue and the chorus closes the act. In Muretus, Caesar and
the chorus occupy the first act. In Grévin, it is Caesar, Antony and
the Chorus of Soldiers. In Pescetti, the Prologue is separate, but
like in Alexander the actors therein do not appear in the drama
proper.
Footnote 130:
Of the above only the fact that the conspiracy was revealed to her is
recorded by Plutarch in this connection.
Footnote 131:
Fortune.
Footnote 132:
Alexander, in his younger days, travelled in France, Spain and Italy.
He was high in the favor of James VI. of Scotland and accompanied him
to London in 1603, where he became an intimate of Prince Henry. That
he was well and favorably known to the authors of the day may be
inferred from the dedication of a sonnet to him by Michael Drayton.
Footnote 133:
In Shakespeare Soc. Pub., 1874, p. 357. Also his Life of Shakespeare,
1886, p. 215–6.
Footnote 134:
The allusion to the phrase Act III, Sc. 1.
“Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied.”
This originally stood:
“Caesar did never wrong but with just cause” and is ridiculed by
Jonson in his “Discoveries.” It is quite likely that the Caesar in the
play as originally written was an even more self-important individual
than he is at present. Possibly Shakespeare saw no absurdity in the
line when he first penned it. Caesar, in his own estimation, is
semi-divine. The cause of things is in his will. What might seem wrong
to the mob was not so to Caesar, for he felt that the cause was just,
no matter what the world thought. That was sufficient. The apparent
contradiction in terms thus seems capable of explanation.
Footnote 135:
Appendix to Vol. IV of the Cambridge History of English Literature.
Also M. A. Scott, Elizabethan Translations from the Italian. Mod.
Lang. Assoc. Pub., X. to XIV., 1895–99.
Footnote 136:
Sidney Lee, The French Renaissance in England, 1910. Phoebe Sheavyn,
The Literary Profession in the Elizabethan Age, 1909.
Footnote 137:
Shakespeare: A Critical Study, George Brandes—London, William
Heineman, 1902, p. 444–45.
Footnote 138:
“Relazioni Litterarie fra Italia e Inghilterra,” Florence, 1911.
Reviewed in article, “The Italian Sources of Othello,” by Ethel M. de
Fonblanque, Fortnightly Review, Nov., 1911, p. 907.
Footnote 139:
Ethel M. de Fonblanque in Fortnightly Review, Nov., 1911.
Footnote 140:
“Studies in Shakespeare.”
CONCLUSION
To claim that Pescetti’s drama possesses any intrinsic attraction for
the modern reader would be straining truth in the interest of zeal. It
is doubtful whether it ever attained the dignity of a stage
representation; the least regard for the patience of humanity prompts
the hope that it never was inflicted upon an audience. Too often,
throughout its toilsome progress, “Declamation roars while Passion
sleeps.” Pescetti attempted to individualize his major characters, yet
we miss the life which throbs in Shakespeare’s pages; all too frequently
the passionate utterances of real men and women are sunk in the frigid
rhetoric of book-born puppets. Still while it was not given to Pescetti
to scale Olympus, he at least glimpsed the path. His drama is true to
the traditions of its type; in some ways it marks an advance over its
predecessors. While the English drama, freed from the shackles of
convention, buoyed by the exuberant spirit of a conscious nationalism,
followed the Zeitgeist to the highest pinnacle of achievement, Italian
tragedy, misled by the ignis fatuus of a false classicism, floundered
ever more helplessly and hopelessly in the depths of the Senecan morass.
Pescetti has most of the faults of his contemporaries, but in a few
respects he rises superior to many of his predecessors. His work is free
from their revolting horrors; he shows a true perception of the dramatic
possibilities of his material; he arranges his subject matter with a
proper regard for dramatic effect, even though he well-nigh stifles his
plot under an avalanche of words. He dares attempt what Symonds[141]
scarcely believed possible; to portray upon the Italian stage the
patriotism of a Brutus and the downfall of a tyrant.
But what renders this long-forgotten work of special interest to the
modern reader is the probability of its relation to “Julius Caesar”; a
probability which the preceding investigation has sought to confirm. It
seems that “Cesare” furnished the greatest dramatist of the age with
hints which he did not hesitate to employ. It deserves recognition
because here, for the first time, we find individual scenes which appear
later in “Julius Caesar.” Here for the first time in any extant drama on
this subject, we find the debate (in its extended form) concerning the
contemplated murder of Antony. In “Cesare,” Portia for the first time
enters the action, while Brutus is shown in his domestic relations in a
manner suggestive of Shakespeare’s treatment. Here, for the first time,
the omens and prodigies find a prominent place in the drama, while the
significance of the Caesar-Lena episode receives its first recognition.
All these scenes appear later in “Julius Caesar,” accompanied by
individual touches peculiar alone to the Italian dramatist.
Muretus and Grévin both include in their dramas the debate concerning
Antony. But Pescetti seems to have had a better idea of its dramatic
value, for not only is his treatment of this significant episode far
more comprehensive, but he includes matter purely his own, which, both
in form and content, is so similar to its dramatic counterpart in
“Julius Caesar” as to render the supposition of accidental coincidence
highly improbable.
In his delineation of Brutus, Pescetti continued the exaltation of the
character, begun by Plutarch and introduced into the Renaissance drama
by Muretus. In view of the fact that the Italian dramatist openly
courted the favor of the ruler of Ferrara, his treatment of the assassin
of the Duke’s great ancestor is surprising. Pescetti could have found
many things in his sources which would have detracted from the moral
excellence of his Brutus, but he ignores them, and portrays his
protagonist along the same lines as his great contemporary. Therefore
Shakespeare found nothing in Pescetti to induce him to change his
conception of the character.
The Brutus-Portia scenes in “Cesare” mark the first introduction of this
material in any drama on the same subject. Pescetti portrays Brutus in
his domestic relations along the lines later adopted by Shakespeare, and
adds touches not traceable to Plutarch, yet included in “Julius Caesar.”
Inasmuch as Pescetti dedicated his tragedy to Alfonso D’Este, whom he
hails in his preface as Caesar’s reincarnation, we naturally would
expect a delineation of the titular character cast in the most heroic
mould. Yet, whatever the intention, the fulfillment seems the very
antipode of the promise. The Caesar of Pescetti appears the same weak,
vacillating, boastful figure that in Shakespeare has so puzzled his
critics, and who occupies in the drama the same position of relative
inferiority assigned to him in “Julius Caesar.”
Pescetti was the first dramatist of Caesar’s fortunes to realize the
dramatic value of a supernatural background. He presents the ghost of
Pompey as the exciting force on his Brutus; Shakespeare introduced the
ghost of Caesar to herald his doom. In his attempted distribution of the
omens and prodigies, the Italian seems to have anticipated Shakespeare’s
similar but vastly superior treatment. With a single puzzling exception,
he mentions all the portents later used by Shakespeare, and adds many
more culled from the classic authors. Shakespeare includes among the
omens several not mentioned by Plutarch; to obtain these he had no
occasion to go beyond Pescetti.
The Italian seemed to realize the dramatic value of suspense, and uses
this device twice in a manner almost exactly parallel to that of
Shakespeare. Like the Cassius of Shakespeare, the Decimus Brutus of
Pescetti raises a doubt as to Caesar’s attending the session of the
Senate, and the introduction of this element of suspense paves the way
for his ultimate persuasion of the Dictator. In Shakespeare’s play the
episode performs the same office. But more significant is Pescetti’s
employment of the Caesar-Lena scene, which in word and thought
constitute a very close parallel to the same scene as it stands in
“Julius Caesar.”
“Cesare” seems to shed new light upon the much discussed question of
Shakespeare’s indebtedness to Appian, for the historical matter
supposedly derived by the great poet from the English translation of the
history can be found in the Italian drama, and reappears later in
“Julius Caesar,” accompanied by touches peculiar alone to Pescetti’s
treatment. The resemblance between these portions of the Italian’s work
and the corresponding parts in the English drama, is far stronger than
their similarity to their hitherto supposed source.
Pescetti’s minor figures are hardly suggestive of Shakespeare’s vivid
portraits, but, as has been pointed out, the significant speech which he
assigns to Calpurnia furnishes the most striking parallel between the
two plays.
When Cicero said:
“But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves,”
he uttered a truism which might well serve us a warning to all critics,
especially those of Shakespeare. But the great poet often builded better
than he knew. Shakespeare to us is what we can get from him. Because
Pescetti was no Shakespeare is no reason for interpreting his efforts in
an unkindlier spirit. His critics have, however, judged him by his
fellows; often, apparently, without reading him. We cannot attempt to
measure his influence in his own day by our modern standards. What is
tedious to us was not necessarily so to the Elizabethans. It may be well
to remember that even among Shakespeare’s contemporaries the Senecan
drama had its advocates.[142] There are few purple patches in “Cesare”
to catch the eye of the romantic dramatist; probably as a tragedy,
Pescetti’s drama had as little attraction for Shakespeare as it has for
us. But to a dramatist who never scrupled to appropriate suitable
material wherever he could find it, “Cesare” must have appeared well
worth investigation. It presented, in convenient dramatic form, material
which served to supplement his own selections from the scattered pages
of Plutarch. With the sure perception of genius the great poet took from
the Italian the matter best suited to his purpose and discarded the
rest.
It is for this reason that “Cesare” is worthy of notice. It is for this
reason that the obscure pedagogue of Verona, whose pedantic personality
lay buried beneath the controversial debris of three centuries, deserves
to stand to-day among that humbler brotherhood whom association with our
greatest dramatist has preserved for the curious admiration of the
literary world.
-----
Footnote 141:
In his discussion of the state of the Italian drama during the
sixteenth century, Symonds says: “At the same time, we may question
whether the Despots would have welcomed tragic shows which dramatized
their deeds of violence; whether they would have suffered the
patriotism of a Brutus, the vengeance of Virginius, the plots of
Catiline, or the downfall of Sejanus to be displayed with
spirit-stirring pomp in the theatres of Milan and Ferrara, when
conspiracies like that of Olgaiti were frequent.” John Addington
Symonds, “The Renaissance in Italy, Italian Literature,” Vol. II., p.
119. Henry Holt & Co., 1888.
Footnote 142:
“The Monarchicke Tragedies” of Alexander by 1617 had gone through
three editions, besides several single quartos.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Retained the blanks that the original Italian text often had before
apostrophes.
2. Inserted a blank before the apostrophe in front of the letter l,
whenever the apostrophed ’l stands for il.
3. Changed “προσέττατεν” to “προσέταττεν” in footnote 12.
4. Added anchor after “—II., i, ll. 154–191.” for the first
footnote[60] on p. 46.
5. Changed “cosi” to “così” on p. 67.
6. Changed “angurio” to “augurio” on p. 84.
7. Silently corrected typographical errors.
8. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
9. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
The following corrections to obvious Italian misspellings in Boecker's
text made by comparing excerpts with Pescetti's original at
http://www.opal.unito.it/psixsite/Teatro italiano del XVI e XVII
secolo/Elenco opere/image589.pdf.
1. Changed “Secundo” to “secondo” on p. 1.
2. Changed “ricchezze” to “ricchezze” on p. 16.
3. Changed “Più che d’Orso, e de Tigre Ircana crudo” to “Più che
d’Orso, e di Tigre Ircana crudo” on p. 17.
4. Changed “E fù si grande del ferir la voglia Ricandosi” to “E fu sì
grande del ferir la voglia Recandosi” on p. 24.
5. Changed “Immenso regno, e sì gonfiato ha l’onde,” to “Immenso regno,
e sì gonfiato hà l’onde,” on p. 30.
6. Changed “Altri temer gran fatto, un’huom al ventre” to “Altri temer
gran fatto, un’huomo al ventre” on p. 43.
7. Changed “Sciogliam noi l’alma de’ corporei lacci.” to “Sciogliam noi
l’alma da corporei lacci.” on p. 53.
8. Changed “Ben t’esort’ io guardati de’ nemici.” to “Ben t’esort’ io
guardarti de’ nemici.” on p. 61.
9. Changed “Quest’ alta impresa il cielo, acciochè nulla” to “Quest’
alta impresa il cielo, acciocchè nulla” on p. 63.
10. Changed “Non può salir, che del terreno incarco” to “Non può salir,
chi del terreno incarco” on p. 66.
11. Changed “Et ei conforme al merto suo nel propio” to “Et ei conforme
al merto suo nel proprio” on p. 92.
12. Changed “Non senza gran cagion stamane uscito” to “Non senza gran
cagion stamane uscito” on p. 101.
13. Changed “Ite, ò forti, ite ò saggi, te ò de gli alti” to “Ite, ò
forti, ite ò saggi, ite ò de gli alti” on p. 107.
14. Changed “te ò de gli alti Lenaggi,” to “ite ò de gli alti Legnaggi,”
on p. 114.