Cor. Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, And the moft noble mother of the world And An old corruption must have poffefs'd this paffage, for two reafons. In the first place, whoever confults this fpeech, will find, that he is talking fondly to his wife, and not praying to the gods at all. Secondly, if he were employ'd in his devotions, no apology would be wanting for leaving his mother unfaluted. The poet's intention was certainly this. Coriolanus, having been lavish in his tenderneffes and raptures to his wife, bethinks himself on the fudden, that his fondnefs to her had made him guilty of ill manners in the neglect of his mother; and, therefore correcting himself upon reflection, cries; -You gods! I prate; Prate, tis true, is a term now ill-founding to us, because it is taken only, as the grammarians call it, in malam partem. Our language was not fo refin'd, tho' more mafculine, in Shakespeare's days; and therefore (notwithstanding the prefent fuppos'd nanoparía,) when he is most serious, he frequently makes ufe of the word. A little after, in this very scene, Volumnia fays; yet here he lets me prate, Like one i' th' ftocks. K. Jobn. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy. Hamlet. And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us. Nor is it infrequent with him to employ the diminutive of this term. But I prattle Something too wildly, and my father's precepts I do forget. Silence that fellow ;---I would, he had fome Caufe to prattle for himself. O my fweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I doat In mine own comfort. Tempest. Meaf. for Meaf. Othello And the moft noble mother of the world Leave unfaluted: fink, my knee, i'th earth; [kneels. Vol. O ftand up bleft! Whilft with no fofter cushion than the flint I kneel before thee, and unproperly Shew duty as mistaken all the while, Cor. What is this? Your knees to me? to your corrected son ? Vol. Thou art my warrior, I holp to frame thee. Do you know this Lady The moon of Rome; chafte as the ificle, [kneels. hewing young Marcius. Which by th' interpretation of full time Cor. The god of foldiers, With the consent of fupreme Jove, inform Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou may'ft prove To fhame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars Like a great fea-mark, ftanding every flaw, And faving those that eye thee! Val. Your knee, firrah. Cor. That's my brave boy. Vol. Even he, your wife, this Lady, and myself, Are fuitors to you. Cor. I beseech you, peace: I amended the paffage in question, in the appendix to my SHAKESPEARE reflor'd; and Mr. Pope has thought fit to correct it from. thence, in his last edition, Or, Or, if you'd afk, remember this before; Again with Rome's mechanicks. Tell me not, Vol. Oh, no more; no more: You've faid, you will not grant us any thing: Are we come hither; fince thy fight, which fhould Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Conftrains them weep, and shake with fear and forrow; Our wish, which fide fhou'd win. For either thou With manacles along our streets; or else Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, Thefe wars determine: if I can't perfuade thee (Truft to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb, That brought thee to this world. Virg. Ay, and mine too, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time. Boy. He fhall not tread on me: I'll run away till I'm bigger, but then I'll fight. Vol. Nay, go not from us thus: If it were fo, that our requeft did tend The Volfcians whom you ferve, you might condemn us, Is, that you reconcile them: while the Voicians Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, be bleft To th' enfuing age, abhorr'd.' Speak to me, fon: Thou haft affected the firft ftrains of honour, To imitate the graces of the gods; To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air, And And yet to charge thy fulphur with a bolt, (40) Still to remember wrongs? daughter, fpeak you : When the, (poor hen) fond of no fecond brood, Thou art not honeft, and the gods will plague thee, (40) And yet to change thy fulphur with a bolt, All the printed copies concur in this reading, but I have certainly His wife is in Corioli; and his child Like him by chance;---] But tho' his wife was in Corioli, might not his child, nevertheless, be like him? the minute alteration I have made, I am perfuaded, reftures the true reading. Polumnia would hint, that Coriolanus by his ftern behaviour had lost all familyregards, and did not remember that he had any child. I am not his mother, (fays fhe) his wife is in Corioli, and this child, whom we bring with us, (young Marcius) is not his child, but only bears his refemblance by chance. |