Lart. So, the good horfe is mine. Mar. I'll buy him of you. Lart. No, I'll not fell, nor give him: lend him you, I will, For half an hundred years: Summon the town. Mef. Within a mile and half. Mar. Then fhall we hear their larum, and they ours. Now, Mars, 1 pr'ythee, make us quick in work; That we with fmoaking fwords may march from hence, To help our fielded Friends! Come, blow thy blast. They found a Parley. Enter two Senators with others on the Walls. Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? 1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you lefs than he, That's leffer than a little hark, our drums [Drum afar off. Are bringing forth our youth: we'll break our walls, Rather than they shall pound us up; our gates, Which yet feem fhut, we have but pinn'd with rushes; They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off. [Alarum far off. There is Aufidius. Lift, what work he makes Amongst your cloven army. Mar. Oh, they are at it! Lart. Their noise be our inftruction. Ladders, ho! Enter the Volfcians. Mar. They fear us not, but iffue forth their city. Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proof than fhields. Advance brave Titus, They do difdain us much beyond our thoughts; Which makes me fweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows; He that retires, I'll take him for a Volfcian, And he fhall feel mine edge. 4 Alarum; the Romans beat back to their Trenches. Re-enter Re-enter Marcius. Mar. (5) All the contagion of the fouth light on you, You fhames of Rome, you!-herds of boils and plagues Plaister you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Farther than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!-you fouls of geefe, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run From flaves, that apes would beat? Pluto and hell! All hurt behind, backs red, and faces pale, With flight, and agued fear! mend, and charge home, Or by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe, And make my wars on you; look to't, come on; If you'll stand faft, we'll beat them to their wives, As they us to our trenches followed. Another alarum, and Marcius follows them to the gates. So, now the gates are ope: now prove good feconds; 'Tis for the followers, fortune widens them; Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. [He enters the gates, and is shut in. 1 Sol. Fool-hardiness, not I. 2 Sol. Nor I, I Sal. See, they have shut him in. [Alarum continues. All. To th' pot, I warrant him. Enter Titus Lartius. Lart. What is become of Marcius. (5) All the contagion of the fouth light on you, You frames of Rome; you berds; of boils and plagues Plaifter you o'er, &c.] Thus miferably did the old editors give us this paffage mangled, by bad pointing; and Mr. Pope would not indulge bis private fenfe, by any alteration to make it intelligible. The. meaneft judges of English muft be aware, that no member of any fentence can begin with a genitive cafe, and a preceding nominative be wanting to govern that and the verb. Where, therefore, is the nominative to, of boils and plagues plaifter you o'er? or what fenfe or fyntax is there in the paffage, as it here ftands? I reform'd the pointing in the appendix to my SHAKESPEARE reftor'd, and Mr. Pope has vouchfafed to embrace my correction in his laft edition. R 2 1 Sol. 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, Lart. Oh, noble fellow ! Who, fenfible, out-does his fenfelefs fword, (6) Were not fo rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier (7) (6) Who fenfibly outdares bis fenfelefs fword, And when it borus, ftands up.] The fine and eafy emendation of this passage, which I have inserted in the text, is owing to the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. (7) Ibou waft a foldier Ev'n to Calvus' wish;] F. Lartius is here fumming up his friend's character, as a warrior that was terrible in his ftrokes, in the tone of his voice, and the grimness of his countenance. But who was this Calvus, that wish'd thefe three characteristicks in a foldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman history will be at a lofs to account for fuch a man and fuch circumftances join'd to fignalize him. I formerly amended the paffage, and prov'd that the poet muft have wrote, Even to Cato's wish; The error probably arose from the fimilitude in the manuscript of to to lv and fo this unknown wight Calvus fprung up. I come now to the authorities for my emendation. Plutarch, in the life of Coriolanus, fpeaking of this Hero, fays; He was a man (that which CATO requir'd in a warrior) not only dreadful to meet with in the field, by reafon of bis hand and ftroke; but insupportable to an enemy, for the very tone and accent of his voice; and the fole terror of his afpect. This again is confirm'd by the hiftorian, in the life of Marcus CATO the Cenfor. In engagements (fays he;) he would use to ftrike luftily, with a fierce countenance ftare upon bis enemies, and with a harsh threatning voice accoft them. Nor was be out in bis epinion, whilst he taught, that such rugged kind of behaviour sometimes does frike the enemy more than the fword itfelf. Mr. Pope owns, I have clearly prov'd this point: but he feems inclin'd to think, the blunder fhould rather have continued, than I fhould have discover'd the author guilty of fuch a terrible anachronism. But is Mr. Pope confcious of no other anachronism committed by our poet in this play? Menenius in one paffage talks of Alexander the Great; tho' that Prince was not born till 130 years after Coriolanus's death; nay, and in another he mentions Galen, whofe birth was above 420 years later than that of Alexander. And there are certain other anachronisms, that lie blended together, which I fhall have occafion to inform Mr. Pope of, before I have done with the 2d Act of this tragedy. Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible Thou mad'st thine enemies fhake, as if the world Enter Marcius bleeding, affaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Look, Sir. Lart. O, 'tis Marcius. Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [They fight, and all enter the city. Enter certain Romans with Spoils. Rom. This will I carry to Rome. 2 Rom. And I this. 3 Rom. A murrain on't, I took this for filver. [Alarum continues fill afar off. Enter Marcius and Titus Lartius, with a Trumpet. Mar. See here thefe movers, that do prize their honours At a crack'd drachm: cushions, leaden fpoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with thofe that wore them, these base flaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up; down with them; And hark, what noife the General makes!-to him;There is the man of my foul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans; then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city; Whilft I, with thofe that have the spirit, will hafte To help Cominius. Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleed'ft t; Thy exercife hath been too violent For a fecond courfe of fight. Mar. Sir, praise me not : My work hath yet not warm'd me. Than dangerous to me. Fare you well: T' Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight. Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms R 3 Mifguide Mifguide thy oppofers fwords! bold gentleman! Mar. Thy friend no lefs, Than thofe the placeth higheft! so, farewel. Go found thy trumpet in the market-place, [Exeunt. SCENE, changes to the Roman Camp. Enter Cotninius retreating, with Soldiers. Com. BR Reathe you, my friends; well fought; we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, Nor cowardly in retire: Believe me, Sirs, We fhall be charg'd again. Whiles we have ftruck, That both our powers, with fmiling fronts encountring, Mef. The citizens of Corioli have iffued, Com. Tho' thou speak'ft truth, Methinks, thou fpeak'ft not well. How long is't fince? Mef. Above an hour, my lord. Com. 'Tis not a mile : briefly, we heard their drums. How could't thou in a mile confound an hour, And bring the news fo late? Mef. Spies of the Volfcians Held me in chafe, that I was forc'd to wheel Three or four miles about; elfe had I, Sir, Enter |
