18. It is no matter, etc.-The Second Folio goes, or stumbles, on "let on Images Be hung with the Caesars Trophees." Mr Collier does not state that this is corrected by his MS. annotator. 18. Will make him fly.—A modern sentence constructed in this fashion would constitute the him the antecedent to the who, and give it the meaning of the person generally who (in this instance) else would soar, etc., or whoever would. But it will be more accordant with the style of Shakespeare's day to leave the him unemphatic, and to regard Cæsar as being the antecedent to who. It was not then so unusual, or accounted so inelegant, as it would now be, in our more precise and straitened syntax, thus to separate the relative from its true antecedent by the interposition of another false or apparent one, or to tack on the relative clause to the completed statement as if it had been an afterthought. Thus, again in the present Play, we have, in 704, 66 Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched, and in 716, "O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early; SCENE II.-The same. A Public Place. Enter, in Procession with Music, CÆSAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA, a great crowd following, among them a SOOTHSAYER. Cæs. Calphurnia,— Casca. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. Cas. Calphurnia,— Cal. Here, my lord. [Music ceases. 76 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [ACT I. 23. Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.-Antonius. Ant. Cæsar, my lord. 25. Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, Ant. I shall remember : When Cæsar says, Do this, it is performed. Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. Sooth. Cæsar. Cæs. Ha! who calls? [Music. Casca. Bid every noise be still :-Peace yet again. [Music ceases. Cæs. Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cæsar. Speak; Cæsar is turned to hear. 32. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. What man is that? 34. Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March. Cæs. Set him before me; let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cæsar. Cas. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. 39. Cæs. He is a dreamer: let us leave him ;-pass. [Sennet. Exeunt all but BRUTUS and CASSIUS. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Cas. I pray you do. Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you. 44. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: And show of love, as I was wont to have : 45. Bru. Cassius, Be not deceived: if I have veiled my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance 78 PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY. [ACT I. What is it that you would impart to me? Set Honour in one eye, and Death i' the other, For, let the gods so speed me, as I love The name of Honour more than I fear Death. I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber Did I the tired Cæsar: And this man Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colour fly; And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world. Alas! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius, So get the start of the majestic world, 55. Bru. Another general shout! I do believe, that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish. For some new honours that are heaped on Cæsar. 56. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world. Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about Brutus and Cæsar: What should be in that Cæsar? Now, in the names of all the gods at once, [Shout. Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed: Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! O! you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would have brooked 57. Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; |