And we must mark how finely the dramatist represents the victors at Philippi testifying to the virtues of their foe (l. 68),— “_Antony._ This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. * * * * * * _Octavius._[113] According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order’d honourably.” The mode of the catastrophe differs slightly in the two writers; and undoubtedly, in this as in most other instances, there is a very wide difference between the life and spiritedness of the dramatist, and the comparative lameness of the Emblem writers,—the former instinct with the fire of genius, the latter seldom rising above an earth-bound mediocrity; yet the references or allusions by the later poet to the earlier can scarcely be questioned; they are too decided to be the results of pure accident. In one instance Whitney (p. 110, l. 32) hits off the characteristics of Brutus and Cassius in a single line,— “With _Brutus_ boulde, and _Cassius_, pale and wan.” It is remarkable how Shakespeare amplifies these two epithets, “pale and wan” into a full description of the personal manner and appearance of Cassius. Cæsar and his train have re-entered upon the scene, and (act. i. sc. 2, l. 192, vol. vii. p. 329) the dictator haughtily and satirically gives order,— “_Cæs._ Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o’ nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. _Ant._ Fear him not, Cæsar; he’s not dangerous; He is a noble Roman, and well given. _Cæs._ Would he were fatter! but I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock’d himself and scorn’d his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart’s ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.” “Pale and wan,”—two most fruitful words, certainly, to bring forth so graphic a description of men that are “very dangerous.” Of names historic the Emblem writers give a great many examples, but only a few, within the prescribed boundaries of our subject, that are at the same time historic and Shakespearean.