With his accustomed consummate judgment in his opening scenes, Shakspere throws us at once into the centre of the contending classes of early Rome. We have no description of the nature of the factions; we behold them : With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high As I could pick my lance." Till Caius Marcius has become Coriolanus, and we see that the popular violence is under the direction of demagogues-the same "1 Cit. You are all resolved rather to die never-varying result of the same circumthan to famish. Cit. Resolved, resolved! stances-we feel no love for him. It is under oppression and ingratitude that his But he has pre 1 Cit. First, you know, Caius Marcius is chief pride becomes sublime. enemy to the people. Cit. We know 't, we know 't. 1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Cit. No more talking on 't: let it be done.” The foundation of the violence is misery; its great stimulant is ignorance. The people are famishing for want of corn ;—they will kill one man, and that will give them corn at their own price: the murder will turn scarcity into plenty. Hazlitt says that Shakspere “spared no occasion of baiting the rabble." If to show that misery acting upon ignorance produces the same effects in all ages be "baiting the rabble," he has baited them. But he has not painted the "mutinous citizens" with an undiscriminating contempt. One that displays a higher power than his fellows of reasoning or remonstrance, and yet is zealous enough to resist what he thinks injustice, says of Caius Marcius, "Consider you what services he has done for his country." The people are sometimes ungrateful; but Shakspere chose to show that some amongst them could be just. The people have their favourites. "Worthy Menenius Agrippa" has the good word of the mutinous citizens. Shakspere gave them no unworthy favourite. His rough humour, his true kindliness, his noble constancy, form a character that the people have always loved, even whilst they are rebuked and chastened. But, if the poet has exhibited the democratic ignorance in pretty strong colours, has he shrunk from presenting us a full-length portrait of patrician haughtiness? Caius Marcius in the first scene claims no sympathies :"Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry viously deserved our homage, and in some sort our affection. The poet gradually wins us to an admiration of the hero, by the most skilful management. First, through his mother. What a glorious picture of an antique matron, from whom her son equally derived his pride and his heroism, is presented in the exquisite scene where Volumnia and Valeria talk of him they loved, according to their several natures! Who but Shakspere could have seized upon the spirit of a Roman woman of the highest courage and mental power bursting out in words such as these?— "Vol. His bloody brow With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes; Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow Or all, or lose his hire. Vir. His bloody brow! Oh, Jupiter, no blood! Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man Than gilt his trophy: The breasts of Hecuba, When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian swords' contending. This is a noble preparation for the scenic exhibition of the deeds of Caius Marcius. Amidst the physical strength, and the mental energy, that make the triumphant warrior, the poet, by a few of his magical touches, has shown us the ever-present loftiness of mind that denotes qualities far beyond those which belong to mere animal courage. contempt of the Romans who are "beaten back," and the "Romans with spoils," is equally withering. It is not sufficient for him to win one battle. The force of character through which he thinks that nothing His "Where is the enemy? Are you lords o' the field? If not, why cease you till you are so?" is done whilst anything remains to do, shows | It puts the individual for the species, the that Shakspere understood the stuff of which one above the infinite many, might before a great general is made. His remonstrance right." Now we apprehend that Shakspere to Cominiushas not treated the subject of Coriolanus after this right royal fashion of poetry. He has dealt fairly with the vices as well as the virtues of his hero. The scene in the second act, in which Coriolanus stands for the examples of Shakspere's insight into chaconsulship, is amongst the most remarkable related without any comment:racter. In Plutarch he found a simple fact Marcius, following this custom, showed many Now, had received in seventeen years' service at wounds and cuts upon his body, which he the wars, and in many sundry battles, being * is not in Plutarch. It is supplied to us by a higher authority,—by the instinct by which Shakspere knew the great secret of success in every enterprise—the determination to be successful. One example more of the skill with which Shakspere makes Caius Marcius gradually obtain the uncontrolled homage of our hearts. The proud conqueror who rejects all gifts and honours, who has said, "I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remember'd," asks a gift of his superior officer : "Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli, you 66 ever the foremost man that did set out feet to fight; so that there was not a man among the people but was ashamed of himself to refuse so valiant a man; and one of them said to another, We must needs choose him consul, there is no remedy." But in his representation of this fact Shakspere had to create a character, and to make that character act and re-act upon the character of the people. Coriolanus was essentially and necessarily proud. His education, his social position, his individual supremacy made him so. He lives in a city of factions, and he dislikes, of course, the faction opposed to his order. The people represent the opinions that he dislikes, and he therefore dislikes the people. That he has pity and love for humanity, however humble, we have already seen. Coming into contact with the Roman populace for their suffrages, his uppermost thought is “bid them wash their faces and despises that vanity of the people which will keep their teeth clean." He outwardly with solicitation. He betrays his contempt not reward desert unless it go hand in hand for the canvassed, even whilst he is canvassing: "I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them; the wisdom of their choice is rather to have my 't is a condition they account gentle : and, since hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod, and be off to them most counterfeitly: of some popular man, and give it bountifully that is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, I may be consul." The satire is not obsolete. The desperation with which he at last roars out his demand for their voices, as if he were a chorus mocking himself and the people with the most bitter irony, is the climax of this wonderful exhibition : "Your voices for your voices I have fought; Watch'd for your voices; for your voices, bear Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six I have seen and heard of; for your voices Have done many things, some less, some more your voices: Indeed, I would be consul." The people have justice enough to elect the man for his deeds: but they have not strength enough to abide by their own election. When they are told by the Tribunes that they have been treated scornfully, they can bear to be rebuked by their demagogues-to have their "ignorant election" revoked-to suffer falsehoods to be put in their mouth,—to be the mere tools of their weak though crafty leaders. It is Shakspere's praise, in his representation of this plebeian and patrician conflict, that he, for the most part, shows the people as they always are,-just, generous, up to a certain point. But put that thing called a demagogue amongst them, that cold, grovelling, selfish thing, without sympathies for the people, the real despiser of the people, because he uses them as tools,—and then there is no limit to their unjust violence. In the subsequent scenes we see not the people at all in the exercise of their own wills. We see only Brutus and Sicinius speaking the voice, not of the people, but of their individual selfishness. In the first scene of the third act the Tribunes insult Coriolanus; and from that moment the lion lashes himself up into a fury which will be deadly. The catastrophe is only deferred when the popular clamour for the Tarpeian Rock subsides into the demand that he should answer to them once again in the market-place. The mother of Coriolanus abates something of her high nature when she counsels her son to a dissembling submission: He lowered by the instruction. But the poet knew that a real contempt for the people, allied to a strong desire for the honours which the people have to bestow, must produce this lip-service. Coriolanus does not heed the instructions of his mother. approaches temperately to his questioners; he puts up vows for the safety of Rome from the depths of his full heart; he is in earnest to smother his pride and his resentment, but the coarse Tribune calls him "traitor." There can be but one issue; he is banished. Some of the historians say that, although Coriolanus joined the enemies of his country, he provoked no jealousies amongst the native leaders of those enemies; that he died honoured and rewarded; that his memory was even reverenced at Rome. Shakspere probably knew not this version of the legend of Coriolanus. If he had known it, he would not have adopted it. He had to show the false step which Coriolanus took. He had to teach that his proud resentment hurried him upon a course which brought evils worse than the Tarpeian Rock. And yet we are compelled to admire him; we can scarcely blame him. It has not been our good fortune to see John Kemble in this his greatest character: if we had, we probably should have received into our minds an embodied image of the moral grandeur of that scene when Coriolanus stands upon the hearth of Tullus Aufidius, and says— "My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly, and to all the Volsces, Great hurt and mischief." The words are almost literally copied from Plutarch; but the wondrous art of the poet is shown in the perfect agreement of these words with the minutest traits of the man's character which had preceded them. The answer of Aufidius is not in Plutarch; and here Shakspere invests the rival of Coriolanus with a majesty of language which has for its main object to call us back to the real greatness of the banished man: "Know thou first, I loved the maid I married; never man Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold." Brief and rapid is their agreement to make war upon Rome. In the great city herself "Coriolanus is not much missed but with his friends," according to the Tribune; no harm can come to Rome; the popular authority will whip the slave that speaks of evil news. Shakspere again "baits the rabble," according to Hazlitt; though he reluctantly adds, "what he says of them is very true:” "Cit. 'Faith, we hear fearful news. 1 Cit. For mine own part, When I said banish him, I said 't was pity. 2 Cit. And so did I. 3 Cit. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us: That we did we did for the best; and though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our will." When Shakspere made Coriolanus ask the freedom of the poor man that had used him kindly, he showed the tenderness that was at the bottom of that proud heart. When Rome is beleaguered, Cominius reports thus of his unsuccessful mission to her banished son: "Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard For his private friends: His answer to me was, He could not stay to pick them in a pile Of noisome musty chaff: He said, 't was folly For one poor grain or two to leave unburnt, And still to nose the offence." His old general and companion in arms touched nothing but his pride. Menenius, his "beloved in Rome," undertakes a similar mission. The answer of Coriolanus is"Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are servanted to others." At the moment that Coriolanus has declared to Aufidius "Fresh embassies, and suits, Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter Will I lend ear to," his mother, his wife, his child appear. But he will stand "As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin." What a scene follows! The warrior is externally calm, as if he were a god, above all passions and affections. The wondrous poetry in which he speaks seems in its full harmony as if it held the man's inmost soul in a profound consistency. But the passion is coming. "I have sat too long" is the prelude to "O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene Volumnia speaks no other word. The mother and the son, the wife and the husband, the child and the father, have parted for ever. The death of Coriolanus in the "goodly city" of Antium is inevitable: "Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 't is there, conquered. He had presented his throat to Tullus Aufidius, “Which not to cut would show thee but a fool." 'Julius Cæsar,' has marked very distinctly But Aufidius would first use him who said he Of all the under fiends." The retribution is a fearful one. Hazlitt observes, "What Shakspere says of them [the rabble] is very true; what he says of their betters is also very true, though he dwells less upon it." Shakspere teaches by action as well as by words. The silly rabble escape with a terrible fright: Coriolanus loses his home, his glory, his life, for his pride and his revenge. They are in They would wars would eat them up. In 'Julius Cæsar,' on the contrary, they are "mechanical"-the carpenter or the cobbler. They "make holiday to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph." The speech of Marullus, the Tribune, brings the Rome of the hour vividly before us. It is the Rome of mighty conquests and terrible factions. Pompey has had his triumphs, and now the men of Rome "Strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood." But the triumphant man himself appears. When he speaks, the music and the shouts are silent. When he speaks not, the air is again filled with sounds of greeting. There is a voice in the crowd, "shriller than the music." The Soothsayer cries, “Beware the Ides of March;" but "he is a dreamer.” The procession passes on; two men remain who are to make the dream a reality. Of all Shakespere's characters none require to be studied with more patient attention than those of Brutus and Cassius, that we may understand the resemblances and the differences of each. The leading distinctions between these two remarkable men, as drawn by Shakspere, appear to us to be these : Brutus acts wholly upon principle; Cassius partly upon impulse. Brutus acts only when he has reconciled the contemplation of action with his speculative opinions; Cassius allows the necessity of some action to run before and govern his opinions. Brutus is a philosopher; Cassius is a partisan. Brutus therefore deliberates and spares; Cassius precipitates and denounces. Brutus is the nobler instructor; Cassius the better politician. Shakspere, in the first great scene between them, brings out these distinctions of character upon which future events so mainly depend. Cassius does not, like a merely crafty man, use only the arguments Years, perhaps centuries, had rolled on. Rome had seen a constitution which had reconciled the differences of the patricians and the plebeians. The two orders had built a temple to Concord. Her power had increased; her territory had extended. In compounding their differences the patricians and the plebeians had appropriated to themselves all the wealth and honours of the state. There was a neglected class that the social system appeared to reject as well as to despise. The aristocratic party was again brought into a more terrible conflict with the impoverished and the destitute. Civil war was the natural result. Sulla established a short-lived constitution. The dissolution of the Republic was at hand: the struggle was henceforth to be, not between classes, but individuals. The death of Julius Cæsar was soon followed by the final termination of the contest between the republican and the monarchical principle. Shakspere saw the grandeur of the crisis; and he seized upon it for one of his lofty expositions of political philosophy. He has treated it as no other poet would have treated it, because he saw the exact relations of the contending principle to the future great history of mankind. The death of Cæsar was not his catastrophe: it was the death of the Roman Republic at Philippi. Shakspere, in the opening scene of his to conspiracy which will most touch Brutus ; |
