Pescetti wrote his tragedy with the evident intention of flattering the Duke of Ferrara, yet never was fulfillment further from promise. “Cesare” could hardly have furnished agreeable reading to a prince, who, lauded on one page as the greatest descendant of the mightiest Julius, finds throughout the succeeding pages this same ancestor denounced as an odious tyrant, and displayed in action as a weak, vacillating braggart. Nor would his appreciation of Pescetti’s efforts have been increased by a consideration of the treatment accorded Brutus. Far from presenting the assassin of Caesar in a manner which might have been regarded as acceptable to the Duke, the Italian dramatist considers him throughout with the highest favor and never wearies of his praises.

Pescetti’s dedication renders it rather difficult to account satisfactorily for his Brutus. Possibly he harbored liberal sympathies of which he found it hard to rid himself; possibly he was here too greatly under Plutarch’s influence; perhaps he was simply following in the footsteps of Muretus and GrÉvin. Plutarch certainly wrote the life “con amore,” and both Pescetti and Shakespeare continue the idealization of the character begun by the biographer. To both dramatists, as to Muretus and GrÉvin, Brutus was the “last of the Romans,” in whom the old regime found its final and noblest champion. Under the circumstances it is difficult to seize upon any phase of the character peculiar alone to Shakespeare and Pescetti. Both went to the same, or nearly the same source for their material; both followed their source faithfully. Yet it is this very similarity in the conception of the character which is especially significant for our purpose, for Shakespeare could have found in the Italian dramatist nothing to weaken, but much to confirm the favorable impression he gathered from the varied pages of Plutarch.

Pescetti’s pronounced bias is discernible from the very beginning. In his dedication^[89] his fulsome flattery of Alfonso does not prevent him hinting that Caesar was no lawful ruler, nor from glancing at his excessive ambition, even though he afterward, in his drama, makes little mention of the one and none of the other. But perhaps most significant of his own feelings are the words he puts into the mouth of the Chorus of Citizens in his last act. The chorus sings the praises of Brutus in a manner which makes the immediately following praise of Caesar by the soldiers pale in comparison:

It is difficult to consider these utterances as impersonal. Such is Pescetti’s admiration for the assassin of Caesar that he speaks in his own person, apparently forgetting in his enthusiasm that he has assigned the words to the Chorus of Citizens.^[90] A further remove from Dante’s conception of Brutus can hardly be imagined.

Such an exhibition of partiality could not have been lost on Shakespeare. Such an emphasis of Plutarch’s attitude could not have failed to confirm the favorable impression which he gathered from the biographer. Nor could Shakespeare, in those scenes in “Cesare” wherein Pescetti attempts to exhibit Brutus in action, have gathered any hints to shake the final opinion in his own play:

Like Shakespeare, Pescetti very carefully eliminates from his characterization anything which might reflect unfavorably upon the moral character of the protagonist. We hear nothing of his positive moral defects; of his divorce, of his rivalry with Cassius for offices within the gift of the Dictator, nor of his many obligations to Caesar. All is discreetly passed over. Whatever Pescetti’s intentions, he probably found it a dramatic necessity to exclude them, much for the same reason that Shakespeare, in all likelihood influenced by his example, was led to ignore them. Possibly it was the Italian’s purpose to portray the fruitless struggle of a hopeless, though noble and virtuous Republicanism against a condition of affairs whose existence had been preordained by the gods, and against which all the forces of an outraged idealism could not prevail. The mortal embodiment of this power might fall; a place was ready for him with the gods, while Tartarus enlarged its bounds to compass his foes.^[91]

If we are to accept the opinion of some critics, Shakespeare was influenced in his treatment of the subject by the recent failure of the Duke of Essex’ rebellion. It showed plainly and forcibly the folly of opposition to the monarchial power. The same idea can be discovered in Pescetti. Much as he lauds Brutus, the practical considerations of authorship compel him at times to a consideration of contemporary conditions. Possibly he realized that he was going too far in his denunciation of Caesar, for we find the Nurse engaging in a defense of monarchs, and declaring,

At the end of the play, the author is careful to emphasize the futility of fighting against the established order:

But it is quite possible that neither Pescetti nor Shakespeare had the faintest idea of introducing any such problem into their tragedy. Possibly both dramatized history as they conceived it, without any attempt to invest their work with a larger significance. Yet consciously or unconsciously, by thus representing their hero as morally immaculate, actuated solely by the highest and most unselfish motives, while the representative of monarchy is depicted as weak, vacillating, and tyrannous, both Pescetti and Shakespeare have secured for the problem its most elemental and most emphatic statement.

Both dramatists, therefore, approached the subject in the same spirit. Both excluded from their portrait of Brutus whatever seemed to reflect unfavorably upon his character; both included whatever might add to his moral elevation. It is this peculiar insistence upon certain traits of Brutus’ character to the exclusion of others, that furnishes a close parallel between the two plays.^[92]

The Brutus of “Cesare”, at his first appearance, curiously resembles the Brutus of “Julius Caesar” after the famous soliloquy. He is torn by no doubts as to the moral excellence of his plans: his whole soul is bent upon the destruction of the tyrant. Thus, in his opening speech^[92] he exclaims,

This, in style, sentiment, and wording is closely parallel to the exclamation of Brutus on reading the notes:

The exclamatory style is particularly noteworthy, as it occurs frequently in the parallels.

A peculiar difference in treatment, but a striking parallel in content, is to be found in a portion of the Brutus-Cassius scene.^[93] In Pescetti, Brutus enters the action fully resolved, and though Cassius is already in the plot, that cautious conspirator has his doubts as to Caesar’s vulnerability. Brutus thereupon indulges in an argument curiously similar to that used later by Cassius in Shakespeare’s play when he is striving to arouse Brutus. In Pescetti, Cassius says of Caesar:

Brutus replies:

Shakespeare has:

Cassius—

“I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Caesar; so were you.
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter’s cold as well as he.”^[96]

It is remarkable that in both dramas the authors found it necessary to convince one of their conspirators that Caesar was physically the same as other men.

The Brutus of Pescetti is accorded the same high estimate by his countrymen as the Brutus of Shakespeare. Cassius refers to him as “Il mio Bruto” and lauds him as

A little further on he continues:

This speech follows Brutus’ revelation of his determination to kill the tyrant. In Shakespeare, after Cassius has succeeded in moving Brutus, he says,

The shade of Pompey says to Brutus:

Here we find many characteristics enumerated, garnered from Plutarch and Appian, which, in addition to those already quoted, could have enabled Shakespeare without Plutarch’s scattered hints, to build a considerable part of his characterization of Brutus. In Shakespeare, Cassius says to Brutus:

Here, as in Pescetti, all animosity between them is forgotten.

Further on Cassius exclaims, as Brutus assures him that he loves the name of honor more than he fears death:

Just before this, he says:

Casca refers to Brutus as follows:

Cassius again:

Ligarius hails him as,

The same confidence in Brutus is manifested by the Cassius of “Cesare.” As Brutus and he come out of the temple, Cassius says:

Like Shakespeare, Pescetti lays great stress upon Brutus’ lack of foresight. As is evident from the discussion regarding Antony, he utterly fails to see the fatal mistake he makes in sparing that subtle opportunist. That it is a mistake, Pescetti shows, when, near the end of the drama, the Messenger announced that Antony and Lepidus are about to avenge Caesar’s death. Brutus’ whole argument is characteristic of the closet philosopher; books, not men, have been the object of his studies. He can dissect sagely the motives of his own actions, but he is helpless to penetrate the purposes of other men. In glaring contrast to the Brutus of the famous soliloquy, yet akin in his impracticability, here is a Brutus who speaks thus, when a cautious, worldly Cassius reminds him (in regard to Antony),

He would spare Antony because he is a reveller and given to the pleasures of the flesh. How could such a man, he asks, triumph over those who have devoted their lives to study and toil? He fatuously believes that Caesar’s death will so intimidate Antony as to drive all desire of domination out of the head of that wily schemer.

And to all of this, Cassius very appropriately replies:

Yet this Brutus, just like Shakespeare’s Brutus, is so carried away by the conviction of the irresistible justice of his cause that he abruptly terminates this vital discussion by the lofty statement:

This overpowering sense of the righteousness of his cause is strong throughout. In his opening speech he exclaims, as he addresses Jove:

He considers himself the unworthy instrument of Jove’s vengeance. He feels that the act itself is impious,^[105] but his lofty motives must plead his excuse.

Just before this he says:

Since the shade of Pompey appeared to him, Pescetti’s Brutus exclaims that his thoughts, like those of the Greek Milthiades,

When Portia reminds him that fortune often opposes merit he replies:

This is the same spirit that prompts Shakespeare’s Brutus to reject the oath:

In “Cesare,” Brutus has such a hold over the conspirators that they gladly, as in Shakespeare, accept his leadership and decision on all points. To him are left all the details of the murder. When the fateful moment comes, he stands, after the first shock, unmoved by the fears of his fellows, and calms their panic when Lenate speaks to Caesar.

The Brutus of Pescetti, who can find time to study faces at such a critical moment, never forgets the respect due to himself. Just like Shakespeare’s Brutus, as long as a fighting chance exists, he would fight to the last, but he would sooner die by his own hand than grace the triumph of his enemy. To Cassius, who rouses him to the danger in Lenate’s talk to Caesar, he replies:

“T’intendo; ahi che valor, dove fortuna
S’opponga, nulla val. Stiam preparati,
Per proveder, se fia bisogno, al nostro
Scampo, e alla libertÀ farci la strada,
Se non possiam con altro, col passarci
Co’ pugnali l’un l’altro il fianco, o ’l petto.”—P. 107.

Cas.—

“Then, if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome?

Bru.—

No, Cassius, no. Think not, thou noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the Ides of March begun.
And whether we shall meet again I know not;
Therefore, our everlasting farewell take.
Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile,
If not, why then this parting was well made.”^[111]

One of the curious things in Shakespeare’s drama is the rather vague causes of resentment which the conspirators have towards Caesar. As Professor MacCallum says, “Cassius, the moving spirit of the opposition, is, at his noblest, actuated by jealousy of greatness. And he is not always at his noblest. He confesses that had he been in Caesar’s good graces, he would have been on Caesar’s side. This strain of servility is more apparent in the flatteries and officiousness of Decius and Casca. And what is the motive? Cassius seeks to win Antony by promising him an equal voice in disposing of the dignities; and he presently uses his position for extortion, and the patronage of corruption. Envy, ambition, cupidity, are the principles of the governing classes; and their enthusiasm for freedom means nothing more than an enthusiasm for prestige and influence, for the privilege of parcelling out the authority and dividing the spoils. What care have these against the Man of Destiny, whose glories have given compass, peace and security to the Roman world? But their plea of liberty misleads the impractical student, the worshipper of dreams, memories, and ideals, behind whose virtue they shelter their selfish aims, and whose countenance alone can make their conspiracy respectable. And this very Brutus enters the conspiracy, not because of what Caesar did, or what he is, but because of what he may become! I need not here recount such causes of resentment which may be gleaned from the play. They all tend to the conclusions advanced above. The only serious charge urged against Caesar is that he was ambitious;—surely a sorry charge upon which to justify to the Roman populace the murder of a benefactor.”^[112]

The same lack of definiteness in the charges against Caesar is to be found in Pescetti. The latter, like Shakespeare, could have found enough material in Appian and in Plutarch upon which to ground the conspiracy, but we look in vain for some decisive accusation. There is much talk of tyranny, much about the hard yoke under which Romans groan, but very little in the way of elucidation. Caesar is not accused of ambition; no mention whatever is made of the attempts to crown him. Envy does not seem to be a motive; at least we gain no such idea from the conduct of the conspirators, although Mark Antony directly hints at this in his warning to Caesar.

As far as most of the conspirators in “Julius Caesar” are concerned, this seems to fit them; but, strange to say, it is difficult to see where it applies in “Cesare.” Of the many offenses of which Caesar is held responsible we get very little beyond this bare statement.

As far as Brutus is concerned, he evidently blames Caesar for Pompey’s death and burns to avenge it. Just why, is nowhere apparent. He longs to restore the ancient liberties, but in what degree they have been destroyed, and above all, just what part Caesar played^[113] in their destruction is not very clear. In the very first scene, Brutus apostrophises the shade of Pompey, who had appeared to him during the night, and had said,

He recounts the hopes entertained by the bright promise of Brutus’ youth, and exhorts him to prove to the world that these hopes may yet be realized.

The shade does not demand vengeance on his own account; he deplores Brutus’ fealty to a tyrant, and states certain conditions, but nothing specifically tyrannical. In his opening apostrophe to the shade, Brutus indulges in the same generalities. I will quote this entire speech, partly for its bearing on the matter under discussion, and partly for the light it sheds on Pescetti’s conception of Brutus’ character.

Here is a man ready to kill Caesar because of a dream! The Brutus of Shakespeare would kill him not because of what he is, but for what he might become. The same statement regarding tyranny, ancient liberties, etc., occurs again and again throughout “Cesare.” Cassius repeats them in the very next speech; but all is very vague, very indefinite. Brutus and Cassius later indulge in a lofty dialogue concerning liberty, and Brutus says that the only thing which has kept him alive is the hope that some day he may be able to help Rome regain her ancient liberties. That alone, he feels sure, has also kept Cassius from desiring to outlive the dead Republic.^[115]

Perhaps the strongest statement is contained in Brutus’ speech at the beginning of the fifth act.^[116]

Yet there is nothing stronger in all this than in Shakespeare. There Caesar comes in triumph over Pompey’s sons; not alone the parent, but the offspring have fallen. Brutus says,

Nor can I, despite all this talk concerning ancient liberties, this vehement denunciation of tyranny, discern any definite republican tendencies in “Cesare.” As has already been pointed out, Pescetti’s treatment of Caesar aroused the resentment of the partisans of Alfonso d’Este, yet the author takes pains to have it understood that princes rule by divine right as God’s vicars on earth. In the fourth act, Brutus and Cassius indulge in a dialogue, entirely superfluous, regarding liberty, and Cassius advances what, to a Roman at least, must have seemed rather a novel view of this much discussed subject.

Cas.—

“La libertÀ null’altro
È, ch’imperio, e dominio di se stesso.”—P. 89.

The interjection of this philosophical conception, seemingly so at variance with classical traditions, serves only further to complicate an already sufficiently complicated issue. In short, the motives of the conspirators are not expressed with sufficient clearness to enable us to indicate their exact nature.

Yet, in spite of his impracticability, in spite of the haziness of his motives, the Brutus of Pescetti, like that of Shakespeare, leaves us in no doubt as to the sincerity of his purpose. Whatever base motives may actuate his follows (and in Pescetti none are discernible), he seems to deserve the same eulogy accorded the Brutus of Shakespeare. The salvation of the common weal alone, even at the expense of his own life, seems to animate him. Thus, he says to Decimus Brutus:

It is certainly significant, that with a wealth of material to draw upon, both Pescetti and Shakespeare should, in regard to Brutus, treat the available sources in a manner so similar. Pescetti excludes much historical matter which he might have employed; Shakespeare makes practically the same exclusions. Thus the histories contained sufficient data upon which to found a formidable indictment against Caesar, but both chose to overlook them and to found the conspirators’ cause on comparatively insignificant accusations. In both dramas, certain phases of Brutus’ character are emphasized to the exclusion of others. Much is said of his virtues: nothing, not even by his enemies, of his vices. In their inclusions, a similar parallelism exists between the two dramatists. Pescetti, with a keen perception of the dramatic value of that phase of Brutus’ character, assigns to his mistaken idealism in sparing Antony, a far more significant position in the development of his tragedy than did his predecessors.^[117] Here we get an individual treatment of this dramatic crux which has a striking similarity to that in Shakespeare. It leaves us with the same conception of Brutus’ practical failings, with the same misgivings which we experience in the work of his great contemporary.^[118] Unlike Muretus and GrÉvin, Pescetti does not overlook the importance of the Popilius Lena incident, and by his treatment he introduces an element of suspense which Shakespeare could well use to advantage. Though both dramatists used practically the same source, Pescetti’s individual touches seem reflected in Shakespeare’s handling of this episode. Again, unlike his predecessors, Pescetti was fully alive to the value of the Brutus-Portia scenes, and reveals Brutus in his domestic relations very much as Shakespeare does some ten years later.^[119] Finally, in both dramas the protagonist is but a pawn moved by invisible powers, pursuing his fated way against an ominous and supernatural background. In both tragedies, destiny has its ghostly precursors; in the one to arouse the hero to action, in the other, to herald his doom.