Page images
PDF
EPUB

Mar. 'Tis done.

Lart. Agreed.

Mar. Say, has our General met the enemy?
Mef. They ly in view; but have not spoke as yet.
Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

Mar. I'll buy him of you.

Lart. No, I'll not fell, nor give him: Fend him
you I will,

For half an hundred years. Summon the town.
Mar. How far off ly these armies ?
Mef. Within a mile and half.

[ours.

Mar. Then fhall we hear their 'larum, and they Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work: That we with fmoaking, fwords may march from

hence,

1

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 rufhes; They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off.

[Alarum far of

Lift, what work he makes

There is Aufidius.
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 issue 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.

[Alarum; the Romans beat back to their Trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS.

you,

Mar. (5) All the contagion of the fouth light on [plagues You fhames of Rome, you !---herds of boils and Plaister you o'er, that you may be abhorred Farther than feen, and one infect another' Against the wind a mile. !---you fouls of geefe, That bear the fhapes 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 Or by the fires of Heaven, I'll leave the foe, [home, 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.

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

You fhames of Rome; you herds of boils and plagues

Plaifter you d'er, &c.] Thus miferably did the old editors give us this paffage mangled by bad pointing; and Mr Pope would not indulge his private fenfe, by any alte ration to make it intelligible. The meanest 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 fenie or fyntax is there in the paflage, as it here ftands? 1 reformed the pointing in the Appendix to my Shakespeare Reftored, and Mr Pope has vouchsafed to embrace my correction in his laft edition.

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-hardinefs! not I.

2 Sol. Nor I.

Sol. See, they have shut him in.

[Alarum continues.

All. To th' pot, I warrant him.

Enter TITUS LARTIUS.

Lart. What is become of Marcius?

All. Slain, Sir, doubtless.

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, A carbuncle intire, as big as thou art, [Marcius.--Were not fo rich a jewel. Thou waft a foldier (7)

(6) Who fenfibly outdares his fenfelefs fword, And when it bows, ftands up]

The fine and eafy emendation of this paffage, which I hate inferted in the text, is owing to the ingenious Dr Thirlby. (7) Thou waft a foldier

Even 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 wished thefe three characteristics in a foldier? I'm afraid Greek and Roman hiftory will be at a lofs to account for such a man and fuch circumstances joined

Even to Cato's wifh, not fierce and terrible
Only in ftrokes, but with thy grim looks, and
The thunder-like percuffion of thy founds,

Thou madeft thine enemies fhake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.

Enter MARCIUS bleeding, affaulted by the Enemy.

1 Sol. Look, Sirs.

Lart. O, 'tis Marcius.

Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the City.

to fignalize him. I formerly amended the paffage, and proved that the Poet must have wrote,

Even to Cato's with.

The error probably arofe from the fimilitude in the manufcript 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 required in a war"rior) not only dreadful to meet with in the field, by rea"fon of his 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 confirmed by the hiftorian, in the life of Marcus Cato the Cenfor.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

"In

engagements (fays he) he would ufe to ftrike luftily, with "a fierce countenance ftare upon his enemies, and with a "harth threatening voice accott them. Nor was he out in

his opinion, whilft he taught, that fuch rugged kind of "behaviour fometimes does strike the enemy more than "the fword itfelf." Mr Pope owns, I have clearly proved this point but he feems inclined to think, the blunder fhould rather have continued, than I should have discovered 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 passage, talks of Alexander the Great; though that Prince was not born till 130 years after Coriolanus's death; náy, and in another he mentions Galen, whofe birth was above 420 years later than that of Alexander. And there are certain other anachronifms, that ly blended together, which I fhall have occafion to inform Mr Pope of, before I have done with the fecond act of this Tragedy.

[ocr errors]

Enter certain Romans with Spoils

1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome.

2 Rom. And I this.

3 Rom. A murrain on't, I took this for filver.

[Alarm continues ftill afar off.

Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUs, with a

Trumpet.

Mar. See here thefe movers, that do prize their honours

At a cracked drachm: cufhions, leaden fpoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them, these base flaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up; down with them; And hark, what noise the General makes !--to him;-There is the man of my foul's hate, Aufidius, Fiercing our Romans; then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city;

Whilft I, with those that have the fpirit, will haste To help Cominius.

Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleedeft;

Thy exercife hath been too violent
For a fecond courfe of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not:

My work hath yet not warmed me. Fare you well: The blood I drop is rather phyfical

Than dangerous to me.

T' Aufidius thus I will appear and fight.

Lart. Now the fair goddess Fortune

Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms Mifguide thy oppofers fwords! bold gentleman! Profperity be thy page!

Mar. Thy friend no less

Than thofe the placeth higheft! fo, farewel.
Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius,

« PreviousContinue »