To claim that Pescetti’s drama possesses any intrinsic attraction for the modern reader would be straining truth in the interest of zeal. It is doubtful whether it ever attained the dignity of a stage representation; the least regard for the patience of humanity prompts the hope that it never was inflicted upon an audience. Too often, throughout its toilsome progress, “Declamation roars while Passion sleeps.” Pescetti attempted to individualize his major characters, yet we miss the life which throbs in Shakespeare’s pages; all too frequently the passionate utterances of real men and women are sunk in the frigid rhetoric of book-born puppets. Still while it was not given to Pescetti to scale Olympus, he at least glimpsed the path. His drama is true to the traditions of its type; in some ways it marks an advance over its predecessors. While the English drama, freed from the shackles of convention, buoyed by the exuberant spirit of a conscious nationalism, followed the Zeitgeist to the highest pinnacle of achievement, Italian tragedy, misled by the ignis fatuus of a false classicism, floundered ever more helplessly and hopelessly in the depths of the Senecan morass.

Pescetti has most of the faults of his contemporaries, but in a few respects he rises superior to many of his predecessors. His work is free from their revolting horrors; he shows a true perception of the dramatic possibilities of his material; he arranges his subject matter with a proper regard for dramatic effect, even though he well-nigh stifles his plot under an avalanche of words. He dares attempt what Symonds^[141] scarcely believed possible; to portray upon the Italian stage the patriotism of a Brutus and the downfall of a tyrant.

But what renders this long-forgotten work of special interest to the modern reader is the probability of its relation to “Julius Caesar”; a probability which the preceding investigation has sought to confirm. It seems that “Cesare” furnished the greatest dramatist of the age with hints which he did not hesitate to employ. It deserves recognition because here, for the first time, we find individual scenes which appear later in “Julius Caesar.” Here for the first time in any extant drama on this subject, we find the debate (in its extended form) concerning the contemplated murder of Antony. In “Cesare,” Portia for the first time enters the action, while Brutus is shown in his domestic relations in a manner suggestive of Shakespeare’s treatment. Here, for the first time, the omens and prodigies find a prominent place in the drama, while the significance of the Caesar-Lena episode receives its first recognition. All these scenes appear later in “Julius Caesar,” accompanied by individual touches peculiar alone to the Italian dramatist.

Muretus and GrÉvin both include in their dramas the debate concerning Antony. But Pescetti seems to have had a better idea of its dramatic value, for not only is his treatment of this significant episode far more comprehensive, but he includes matter purely his own, which, both in form and content, is so similar to its dramatic counterpart in “Julius Caesar” as to render the supposition of accidental coincidence highly improbable.

In his delineation of Brutus, Pescetti continued the exaltation of the character, begun by Plutarch and introduced into the Renaissance drama by Muretus. In view of the fact that the Italian dramatist openly courted the favor of the ruler of Ferrara, his treatment of the assassin of the Duke’s great ancestor is surprising. Pescetti could have found many things in his sources which would have detracted from the moral excellence of his Brutus, but he ignores them, and portrays his protagonist along the same lines as his great contemporary. Therefore Shakespeare found nothing in Pescetti to induce him to change his conception of the character.

The Brutus-Portia scenes in “Cesare” mark the first introduction of this material in any drama on the same subject. Pescetti portrays Brutus in his domestic relations along the lines later adopted by Shakespeare, and adds touches not traceable to Plutarch, yet included in “Julius Caesar.”

Inasmuch as Pescetti dedicated his tragedy to Alfonso D’Este, whom he hails in his preface as Caesar’s reincarnation, we naturally would expect a delineation of the titular character cast in the most heroic mould. Yet, whatever the intention, the fulfillment seems the very antipode of the promise. The Caesar of Pescetti appears the same weak, vacillating, boastful figure that in Shakespeare has so puzzled his critics, and who occupies in the drama the same position of relative inferiority assigned to him in “Julius Caesar.”

Pescetti was the first dramatist of Caesar’s fortunes to realize the dramatic value of a supernatural background. He presents the ghost of Pompey as the exciting force on his Brutus; Shakespeare introduced the ghost of Caesar to herald his doom. In his attempted distribution of the omens and prodigies, the Italian seems to have anticipated Shakespeare’s similar but vastly superior treatment. With a single puzzling exception, he mentions all the portents later used by Shakespeare, and adds many more culled from the classic authors. Shakespeare includes among the omens several not mentioned by Plutarch; to obtain these he had no occasion to go beyond Pescetti.

The Italian seemed to realize the dramatic value of suspense, and uses this device twice in a manner almost exactly parallel to that of Shakespeare. Like the Cassius of Shakespeare, the Decimus Brutus of Pescetti raises a doubt as to Caesar’s attending the session of the Senate, and the introduction of this element of suspense paves the way for his ultimate persuasion of the Dictator. In Shakespeare’s play the episode performs the same office. But more significant is Pescetti’s employment of the Caesar-Lena scene, which in word and thought constitute a very close parallel to the same scene as it stands in “Julius Caesar.”

“Cesare” seems to shed new light upon the much discussed question of Shakespeare’s indebtedness to Appian, for the historical matter supposedly derived by the great poet from the English translation of the history can be found in the Italian drama, and reappears later in “Julius Caesar,” accompanied by touches peculiar alone to Pescetti’s treatment. The resemblance between these portions of the Italian’s work and the corresponding parts in the English drama, is far stronger than their similarity to their hitherto supposed source.

Pescetti’s minor figures are hardly suggestive of Shakespeare’s vivid portraits, but, as has been pointed out, the significant speech which he assigns to Calpurnia furnishes the most striking parallel between the two plays.

When Cicero said:

he uttered a truism which might well serve us a warning to all critics, especially those of Shakespeare. But the great poet often builded better than he knew. Shakespeare to us is what we can get from him. Because Pescetti was no Shakespeare is no reason for interpreting his efforts in an unkindlier spirit. His critics have, however, judged him by his fellows; often, apparently, without reading him. We cannot attempt to measure his influence in his own day by our modern standards. What is tedious to us was not necessarily so to the Elizabethans. It may be well to remember that even among Shakespeare’s contemporaries the Senecan drama had its advocates.^[142] There are few purple patches in “Cesare” to catch the eye of the romantic dramatist; probably as a tragedy, Pescetti’s drama had as little attraction for Shakespeare as it has for us. But to a dramatist who never scrupled to appropriate suitable material wherever he could find it, “Cesare” must have appeared well worth investigation. It presented, in convenient dramatic form, material which served to supplement his own selections from the scattered pages of Plutarch. With the sure perception of genius the great poet took from the Italian the matter best suited to his purpose and discarded the rest.

It is for this reason that “Cesare” is worthy of notice. It is for this reason that the obscure pedagogue of Verona, whose pedantic personality lay buried beneath the controversial debris of three centuries, deserves to stand to-day among that humbler brotherhood whom association with our greatest dramatist has preserved for the curious admiration of the literary world.