Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

Enter Valeria with an Usher, and a Gentlewoman.

Val. My Ladies both, good day to you.

Fol. Sweet Madam

l'ir. I am glad to fee your Ladyfhip

Fal. How do you both? you are manifeft housekeepers. What are you fowing here? a fine spot, in good faith. How does your little fon?

Vir. I thank your Ladyfhip: well, good madam. Vol. He had rather fee the fwords, and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmafter.

Val. O' my word, the father's fon: I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. O' my troth, I look'd on him o' Wednesday half an hour together-h'as fuch a confirm'd countenance. I faw him run after a gilded butterfly, and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; and caught it again; or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did fo fet his teeth, and did tear it, oh, I warrant, how he mammockt it!

l'ol. One of's father's moods.

Tal. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child,

Vir. A crack, madam,

Val. Come, lay afide your ftitchery; I must have you play the idle hufwife with me this afternoon. Vir. No, good madam, I will not out of doors. Val. Not out of doors!

Vol. She fhall, fhe fhall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshold, 'till my Lord return from the wars.

Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably : Come, you must go vifit the good Lady that lies in. Vir. I will with her fpeedy ftrength, and vifit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither,

Vol. Why, I pray you?

Vir. "Tis not to fave labour, nor that I want love. Val. You would be another Penelope; yet they fay, all the yarn, the fpun in Ulyffes's abfence, did but fill

Ithaca full of moths. Come, I would your cambrick were fenfible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you fhall go with us.

Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me, and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

Vir. Oh, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jeft with you; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, madam

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a Senator fpeak it. Thus it is the Volfcians have an army forth, against whom Cominius the General is gone, with one part of our Roman power. Your Lord and Titus Lar tius are fet down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on my honour; and fo, I pray, go Vir. Give me excufe, good madam, I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

with us.

Vol. Let her alone, Lady; as fhe is now, fhe will but disease our better mirth.

Val. In troth, I think, fhe would: fare you well, then. Come, good fweet Lady. Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy folemnefs out o' door, and go along with us. Vir. No: at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Walls of Corioli.

Enter Marcius, Titus Lartius, with Captains and
Soldiers: To them a Messenger.

Mar.

Yond

'Onder comes news: a wager they have met. Lart. My horfe to yours, no.

Mar. 'Tis done.

Lart. Agreed.

Mar. Say, has our General met the enemy?
Mef. They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.

VOL. VI.

R

Lart.

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.
Mar. How far off lie thefe armies ?

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 fhall pound us up; our gates, Which yet feem fhut, we have but pinn'd with rushes ; They'll open of themfelves. 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 fhields 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 feen, 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 ftand 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.

1 Sol. See, they have fhut him in. [Alarum continues. All. To th' pot, I warrant him.

Enter Titus Lartius.

Lart. What is become of Marcius.
All. Slain, Sir, doubtless.

(5) All the contagion of the fouth light on you,

You fhames of Rome; you herds; of boils and plagues

Plaifter you e'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 must 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 teftor'd, and Mr. Pope has vouchfafed to embrace my correction in his laft edition.

R 2

I Sol.

1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,
With them he enters; who, upon the fudden,
Clapt to their gates; he is himself alone,
To answer all the City.

Lart. Oh, noble fellow!'

Who, fenfible, out-does his fenfelefs fword, (6)
And when it bows, ftands up: thou art left, Marcius.-
A carbuncle intire, as big as thou art,

Were not fo rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier (7)
(6) Who fenfibly outdares bis fenfelefs fword,

And when it bows, ftands up.]

The fine and eafy emendation of this paffage, which I have inferted in the text, is owing to the ingenious Dr. Thirlby.

(7) Thou waft a foldier

Eu'n to Calvus' wish ;]

T. 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 grimnefs of his countenance. But who was this Calvus, that wish'd thefe three characteristicks in a foldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman hiftory 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 manufcript of to to : 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 infupportable 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 C A T o the Cenfor. In engagements (fays he;) be would use to ftrike luftily, with a fierce countenance fare upon his enemies, and with a harsh threatning voice accost them Nor was be out in his opi nion, whilft he taught, that fuch rugged kind of behaviour fometimes does frike the en my more than the fword itself. 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, whole 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.