NORTH.
You have me—you are sure. Now suppose that, instead of the solemn, ceremonious, and stately robes in which Horatio attires the Glorious Rome, he had said simply, "in Rome," or "at Rome," where then his ψυχαγωγια—his leading of their spirits? Where his own scholar-enthusiasm, and love, and joy, and wonder? All gone! And where, Talboys, are they who, by here understanding "state" for "condition"—which every man alive does—
TALBOYS.
Every man alive?
NORTH.
Yes, you did—confess you did. Where are they, I ask, who thus oblige Horatio to introduce his nomination of Rome—thus nakedly—and prosaically? Every hackneyer of this phrase—state—as every man alive hackneys it—is a nine-fold Murderer. He murders the Phrase—he murders the Speech—he murders Horatio—he murders the Ghost—he murders the Scene—he murders the Play—he murders Rome—he murders Shakspeare—and he murders Me.
TALBOYS.
I am innocent.
NORTH.
Why, suppose Horatio to mean—"in the most glorious and victorious condition of Rome, on the Eve of Cæsar's death, the graves stood tenantless"—You ask—Where? See where you have got. A story told with two determinations of Time, and none of Place! Is that the way that Shakspeare, the intelligent and intelligible, recites a fact? No. But my explanation shows the Congruity or Parallelism. "In the most high and palmy State,"—that is, City of Rome—ceremonious determination of Place—"a little ere the mightiest Julius fell,"—ceremonious determination of Time.