Page:Star Film Catalogue 1908.pdf/139



A woodcutter is seen at work in the woods chopping trees, and after he has gathered a goodly load of wood he turns his steps homeward. A hunting party is now seen, called together from the chase by the buglers, and they all seat themselves on the grass to partake of refreshment. The scene now changes and shows the woodcutter, who had fallen asleep on a log from fatigue. Through the snow flakes the Angel of Death suddenly appears to him, bearing his scythe of destruction; the old man falls prostrate before the vision, but in a moment it vanishes and is replaced by the kindly form of St. Hubert, patron saint of the hunt. The saint tells him to arise, and that soon, very soon, unheard-of riches will come to comfort his old bones. And sure enough, there now appears a retinue of servants in gold and lace livery, bearing a royal litter. The old man is ushered into this, and to his amazement two men lift him and proceed to carry him off, while the others follow in a correct military style. They take him to a beautiful palace, where he is seated at a sumptuously laden table. Many servants gather with dishes, and his every little move is waited upon. But he becomes disgusted with the pamperings of these coddling courtiers and servants and flies into a rage. He dashes up from his seat and hurls defiance at them all. It is apparent that he now detests their formality and splendor, wishing only to be back in the forest once more. He takes his ragged old hat and coat and prepares to depart. On seeing this the courtiers load him with edibles, which he accepts thankfully, but bowing himself out, he intimates clearly that not wealth and riches, but the peace brought by the hard-earned morsel of bread constitutes happiness for him.

The idea of the film is a novel one. It shows the bard of Avon seated in his study, trying to devise the scene in which Cæsar is murdered by the conspirators. He makes several attempts, but apparently his results are unsatisfactory to him. He reads them over and over and then begins to pace the room impatiently. At his wits' end, he sits down in an armchair, crosses his legs, and leaning on his hand prepares for a good, long think. Suddenly his thoughts take life, and right before him appears an old Roman forum. Shakespeare is still seated in his armchair and now watches all that occurs. Several classical female figures appear and one of them burns incense; after stepping around the small flame, they take their leave. Now the conspirators—Brutus, Cassius, Casca and others enter, debating hotly on what action to take against their dictator. After an argument, they draw swords and pointing them to the ground together they swear that Julius Cæsar shall die. While this is going on Shakespeare is an interested spectator—it seems to be just what he had been striving for. Now Cæsar enters with two consuls, and all three seat themselves. Now the conspirators one at a time lay their grievances before the dictator. The first two do naught but speak violently, but the third, in his frenzy, raises his dirk. Cæsar,