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for his place. He receiv'd in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i'th' body. (13)

Men. One i' th’neck, and one too i'th'thigh ; there's ! nine, that I know.

Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twenty five wounds upon him.

Men. Now 'tis twenty seven ; every gash was enemy's grave. Hark, the trumpets.

A fhout and fourille.
Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius ; before him
he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears :
Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie;
Which being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.
Trumpets found. Enter Cominius the General, and Titus

Lartius; between them Coriolanus, crown'd with an
oaken garland, 'with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald.
Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli gates, where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!

Sound. Flourish.
All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus !

Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart'; Pray now, no more.

Com. Look, Sir, your mother,

Cor. Oh!
You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity.

Vol. Nay, my good foldier, up:
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
By deed-atchieving honour newly nam’d,

(13) He receiv'd, in the repulse of Tarquin, seven burts i tb' bedy.
Men. One i'th' neck, and two i ib' ibigb: tbere's nine, that

, I know.] Seven,---one,--

---and two, and these make but nipe? surely, we may with safety affist Menenius in his arithmetick. This is a ftupid blunder; but wherever we can account by a probable reason for the cause of it, that directs the emendation. Here it was easy for a negligent, transcriber to omit the second one as a needless repetition of the first, and to make a numeral word of too.

Mr. Warburtor,


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What is it, Coriolanus, muft I call thee :-
But oh, thy wife

Cor. My gracious filence, hail!
Would'ft thou have laugh’d, had I come coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph ? ah, my dear,

the widows in Corioli wear, And mothers that lack fons.

Men. Now the gods crown thee !
Cor. And live you yet? O my sweet Lady, pardon.

[To Valeria. Vol. I know not where to turn. O welcome home; And welcome, General! y'are welcome all.

Men. A hundred thoufand welcomes : I could weep,
And I could laugh, I'm light and heavy;-welcome!
A curse begin at very root on's heart,
That is not glad to see thee.—You are three,
That Rome should doat on: yet, by the faith of men,
We've some old crab-trees here at home, that will not
Be grafted to your relish. Welcome, warriors !
We call a nettle, but a nettle; and
The faults of fools, but folly.

Com. Ever right.
Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.
Her. Give way there, and go on.

Cor. Your hand, and yours.
Ere in our own house I do made my head,
The good patricians must be visited ;
(14) From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,


(14) From whom I bave receiv'd not only greetings,

But, with them, change of honours.] Change of honours is a very poor expression, and communicates but a very poor idea. I have ventur'd to substitute, charge; i. e. a fresh charge or commission, These words are frequently mistaken for each other. So, afterwards, in this play;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt,

That should but rive an oak.
For here we must likewise correct, cbarge;
And so in Antb. and Cleopat,



But, with them, charge of honours.

Vol. I have lived,
To see inherited my very wishes,
And buildings of my fancy; only one thing
Is wanting, which, I doubt not, but our Rome
Will cast upon thee.

Cor. Know, good mother, I
Had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.
Com. On, to the capitol. (Flourish. Cornets.

[Exeunt in State, as before. Brutus, and Sicinius, come forward. Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared fights Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry, While the chats him: the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clambring the walls to eye him; ftalls, bulks, windows, Are smother'd up, leads fills, and ridges hors'd With variable complexions; all agreeing In earneftness to see him: seld-shown Flamins Do press among the popular throngs, and puff To win a vulgar station; our veild dames Commit the war of white and damask, in Their nicely-gauded cheeks, to th’wanton spoil Of Phæbus burning kisses; such a pother, As if that whatsoever god, who leads him, Were fily crept into his human powers, And gave him graceful posture.

Sic. On the sudden, I warrant him conful.

Oh, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must change his horns with garlands ! Here likewise we must read, charge, i. e. put garlands upon his horns. In the Maid's Tragedy, (by Beaumont and Fletcher) cbarge is vice versa printed in all the editions instead of change.

For we were wont to charge our souls in talk. This, 'tis evident, is nonsense; but friends, by the communication of their thoughts to each other, are finely said to fouls in talk,


Bru. Then our office may, During his power, go fleep.

Sic. He cannot temp’rately transport his honours, From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won.

Bru. In that there's comfort.

Sic. Doubt not,
The commoners, for whom we ftand, but they
Upon their ancient malice, will forget,
With the least cause, these his new honours; which
That he will give, make I as little question
As he is proud to do't.

Bru. I heard him swear,
Were he to stand for consul, never would he
Appear i' th' market-place, nor on him put
The napless vesture of humility;
Nor shewing, as the manner is, his wounds
To th' people, beg their stinking breaths.

Sic. 'Tis right.

Bru. It was his word : oh, he would miss it, rather
Than carry it, but by the suit o'th' gentry,
And the defire o'th' nobles.

Sic. I wish no better,
Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
In execution.

Bru. 'Tis most like, he will.

Sic. It shall be to him then, as our good wills, A sure destruction.

Bru, So it muft fall out To him, or our authorities. For an end, We must suggest the people, in what hatred He still hath held them; that to's power he would Have made them mules, filenc'd their pleaders, and Disproperty'd their freedoms : holding them, In human action and capacity, Of no more soul nor fitness for the world, Than camels in their war, who have their provender Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For finking under them.

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Sic. (15) This, as you say, foggefted At some time, when his soaring insolence Shall reach the people, (which time shall not want, If he be put upon't; and that's as easy, As to set dogs on sheep) will be the fire To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.

Enter a Messenger. Bru. What's the matter?

Mef. You're sent for to the capitol : 'tis thought,
That Marcius shall be consul: I have seen
The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind
To hear him fpeak; the matrons Aung their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass’d; the nobles bended
As to Jove’s statue, and the commons made

This, as you say, suggested
At some time, when his foaring insolence
Shall teach the people, which, (time shall not want,
If he be put upon't, and that's as easy,
As to set dags on sheep) will be the fire
To kindle their dry słubble; and their blaze

Shall darken bim for ever. ] As nominatives are sometimes wanting to the verb, fo, on the other hand, as this passage has been all along pointed, we have a redundance : for two relative pronouns, this and which, stand as nominatives to will be. -There is, besides, one word ftill in this sentence, which, notwithstanding the concurrence of the printed copies, I suspect to have admitted a small corruption. Why should it be imputed as a crime ro Coriolanus, that he was prompt to teach the people ? Or how was it any foaring infolence in a patrician to attempt this? The poet must certainly have

-When bis foaring infolence Shall reach the people; i. €. When it shall extend to impeach the conduct, or touch the character of the people. A like mistake, upon this word, bas possess'd the Maid's Tragedy in all the copies.

If thy hot soul had substance with thy blood,
I would kill that too; which, being past my feel,

My tongue shall teacá.
For here too we must correct, réach. - I regulated and amended this
passage in the appendix to my SHAKESPEARE reftcr’d; and Mr.
Pope has reform'd it, with me, in his last edition.



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