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.