Shakespeare's Roman plays and their background — Text and Context

A Comparative Method Grounded in Plutarch

MacCallum's analysis proceeds by constant, detailed comparison between Shakespeare's plays and their Plutarchan sources. He does not merely note where Shakespeare follows the Lives, but where he departs from them. In the excerpt on Octavia, for instance, he observes that Plutarch presents her as far more intimately involved in Antony's affairs: she is the mother of his children, actively seeks to mediate between Antony and Octavius, and even brings him troops and supplies. Shakespeare, by contrast, reduces her role to a passive, almost symbolic figure of domestic virtue. MacCallum points out that the petition Octavia makes to Antony in the play—echoing speeches from King John and anticipating Volumnia's in Coriolanus—is actually addressed to her brother in Plutarch. This shift, he argues, serves to emphasize Antony's unwavering commitment to Cleopatra.

Character Construction Through Omission and Emphasis

MacCallum's method reveals how Shakespeare builds character not only through what is shown, but through what is left out. In the case of Octavia, he notes that Shakespeare omits all the active, politically engaged aspects of her Plutarchan counterpart: her peacemaking mission, her care for Antony's children, her continued residence in his house after being ordered to leave. Instead, the play constructs her through the perceptions of other characters. Enobarbus speaks of her “holy, cold, and still conversation”; Cleopatra imagines her “modest eyes / And still conclusion” and “sober eye.” MacCallum draws attention to the repetition of “still” (meaning quiet, constant) across these descriptions, building a consistent portrait of a woman defined by passivity. He concludes that Shakespeare's Octavia embodies an old-fashioned ideal of womanhood, subordinate and domestic, whereas Plutarch's Octavia is a more active, sympathetic figure whose loyalty to Antony ultimately harms his reputation.

Pace and the Shaping of Narrative Focus

MacCallum's analysis also attends to the pacing of dramatic events. He notes that in Plutarch, Octavia's peacemaking efforts occur early in the deteriorating relationship between Antony and Octavius, while Shakespeare postpones her intervention until just before the final breach. This compression heightens the sense of inevitability and focuses attention on Antony's internal conflict. Similarly, MacCallum observes that Shakespeare omits the later episode in which Octavia cares for all of Antony's children after his death, an act that in Plutarch underscores her magnanimity. By cutting this material, Shakespeare keeps the dramatic spotlight on the central passion of Antony and Cleopatra, allowing no rival sympathy to dilute it. The critic's attention to such structural choices reveals a playwright deliberately controlling the tempo of revelation and the distribution of audience sympathy.

MacCallum's study rewards readers who are willing to move slowly, comparing his quotations with the plays and with Plutarch. His method is cumulative: each observation builds on the last, and his prose, though scholarly, is never dry. For those interested in how Shakespeare transformed his sources, this book offers a model of attentive, evidence-based criticism that remains valuable more than a century after its first publication.

I finished MacCallum's study of Shakespeare's Romans last week, and something about how he traces their quiet, deliberate cruelty stayed with me. It reminded me of wandering through Chapman’s world afterward—where ambition feels just as heavy, just as inevitable. Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois — Text and Context carries that same strange weight, like watching a candle burn from both ends. I keep thinking about it.