birthright, nor death, when
it came, undo what they had already enjoyed. Folly on so superhuman a
scale becomes, in the highest sense of the word, dramatic.

{192}

+Date+.--In May, 1608, there was entered in the Stationers' Register 'A
Book called Antony and Cleopatra'; and this was probably the play under
discussion. The internal evidence agrees with this; hence the date is
usually set at 1607-8. In spite of the above entry, the book does not
appear to have been printed at that time; and the first copy which has
come down to us is that in the 1623 Folio.

+Sources+.--Shakespeare's one source appears to have been the _Life of
Marcus Antonius_ in North's _Plutarch_; and he followed that very
closely. The chief changes in the play consist in the omission of
certain events which would have clogged the dramatic action.

+Coriolanus+.--Here follows the tragedy of overweening pride. The
trouble with Coriolanus is not ambition, as is the case with Macbeth.
He cares little for crowns, office, or any outward honor.
Self-centered, self-sufficient, contemptuous of all mankind outside of
his own immediate circle of friends, he dies at last because he refuses
to recognize those ties of sympathy which should bind all men and all
classes of men together. He leads his countrymen to battle, and shows
great courage at the siege of Corioli. On his return he becomes a
candidate for consul. But to win this office, he must conciliate the
common people whom he holds in contempt; and instead of conciliating
them, he so exasperates them by his overbearing scorn that he is driven
out of Rome. With the savage vindictiveness characteristic of insulted
pride, he joins the enemies of his country, brings Rome to the edge of
ruin, and spares her at last only at the entreaties of his mother.
Then he returns to Corioli to be killed there by treachery.

Men like Coriolanus are not lovable, either in real life or fiction;
but, despite his faults, he commands {193} our admiration in his
success, and our sympathy in his death. We must remember that ancient
Rome had never heard our new doctrine of the freedom and equality of
man; that the common people, as drawn by Shakespeare, were objects of
contempt and just cause for exasperation. Again, we must remember that
if Coriolanus had a high opinion of himself, he also labored hard to
deserve it. He was full of the French spirit of _noblesse oblige_.
Cruel, arrogant, harsh, he might be; bu