“he is superstitious grown of late,
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.”
And in the next scene Calpurnia adds:
“Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me.”
Charms. These, as Mr. Pettigrew[940] has pointed out, differ little from amulets, the difference consisting in the manner in which they are used rather than in their nature. Thus, whereas the amulet was to be suspended on the person when employed, the charm was not necessarily subjected to such a method of application. In days gone by, and even at the present day, in country districts, so universal has been the use of this source of supposed magical power that there is scarcely a disease for which a charm has not been given. It is not only to diseases of body and mind that the superstitious practice has been directed; having been in popular request to avert evil, and to counteract supposed malignant influences. As might be expected, Shakespeare has given various allusions to this usage, as, for example, in “Cymbeline” (v. 3), where Posthumus says:
“To day, how many would have given their honours
To have sav’d their carcases! took heel to do’t,
And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm’d,
Could not find death where I did hear him groan,
Nor feel him where he struck”
—this passage referring to the notion of certain charms being powerful enough to keep men unhurt in battle.
Othello (iii. 4), speaking of the handkerchief which he had given to Desdemona, relates:
“That handkerchief
Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
She was a charmer, and could almost read
The thoughts of people.”
And in the same play (i. 1), Brabantio asks:
“Is there not charms,
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abus’d?”