His remedies are tame i' th' present
And quietness o' th' people, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here we make his friends
Bluth, that the world goes well; who rather had,
Though they themselves did fuffer by't, beheld
Diffentious numbers peftering freets, than fee
Our tradesmen finging in their fhops, and going
About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENIUS.

Bru. We ftood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?

Sic. Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. Hail, Sir !

Men. Hail to you both!

Sic. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd, but with his friends; the commonwealth doth ftand, and fo would do, were he more angry at it.

Men. All's well, and might have been much better, if he could have temporized.

Sic. Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing:

His mother and his wife hear nothing from him. Enter three or four Citizens.

All. The gods preferve you both!

Sic. Good-e'en, neighbours.

Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all. Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on [our knees,

Are bound to pray for you both.

Sic. Live and thrive.

peace abroad, and the quietnefs of the populace at home, are called Marcius's remedies; whereas, in truth, these were the impediments of his revenge. In the next place, the latter branch of the fentence is imperfect and ungrammatical. My regulation prevents both thefe inconveniencies.

Bru. Farewel, kind neighbours:

We with Coriolanus had loved you as we did.
All. Now the gods keep you !

Both Tri. Farewel, farewel. [Exeunt Citizens. Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,. Than when thefe fellows ran about the streets, Crying confufion.

Bru. Caius Marcius was..

A worthy officer i' th' war; but infolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious paft all thinking, Self-loving.

Sic. And affecting one fole throne, Without affiftance.

Men. Nay, I think not fo.

Sic. We had by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth Conful, found it so.

Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits fafe and ftill without him.

Enter Edile.

Edile. Worthy tribunes,

There is a flave whom we have put in prifon
Reports, the Volfcians with two leveral powers
Are entered in the Romon territories;

And with the deepeft malice of the war:
Deftroy what lyes before 'em.

Men. 'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, Thrufts forth his horns again into the world; Which were infhelled when Marcius ftood for Rome, And durft not once peep out.

Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius!

Bru. Go fee this rumourer whipt. It cannot be, The Volfcians dare break with us."

Men. Cannot be !

We have record that very well it can:

And three examples of the like have been

Within my age.

But reafon with the fellow

Before you punish him, where he heard this;

Left you fhall chance to whip your information,
And beat the meffenger who bids beware
Of what is to be dreaded.

Sic. Tell not me:
I know this cannot be.
Bru. Not poffible.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. The nobles in great earneftnefs are going. All to the Senate-houfe; fome news is come, That turns their countenances.

Sic. 'Tis this flave:

Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes: his raifing! Nothing but his report!

Mef. Yes, worthy Sir,

The flave's report is feconded, and more,,
More fearful is delivered.

Sic: What more fearful?

Mef. It is fpoke freely out of many mouths, How probable I do not know, that Marcius, Joined with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome; And vows revenge as fpacious, as between The youngest and oldeft thing.

Sic. This is most likely!

Bru. Raifed only, that the weaker fort may wifh

Good Marcius home again.

Sic. The very trick on't..

Men. This is unlikely.

He and Aufidius can no more atone, (34)

Than violenteft contrariety.

(34) He and Aufidius can no more be one

Than violenteft contrariety.]

This is only Mr Pope's fophiftication. I have restored the

Enter Meffenger.

Mef. You are fent for to the Senate:
A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,
Affociated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories; and have already
O'er-born their way, confumed with fire, and took
What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. Oh, you have made good work.
Men. What news? what news?

Com. You have holp to ravish your own daugh-
To melt the city leads upon your pates, [ters, and
To fee your wives difhonoured to your noses.
Men. What's the news? what's the news?
Com. Your temples burned in their cement, and
Your franchifes, whereon you stood, confined
Into an augre's bore.

Men. Pray now, the news?

You've made fair work, I fear me: pray, your news?
If Marcius fhould be joined with the Volfcians,---
Com. If? he is their god; he leads them like a thing
Made by fome other deity than nature,

That fhapes men better; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no lefs confidence,
Than boys pursuing fummer butterflies,
Or butchers killing flies.

Men. You've made good work,

reading of the genuine copies,- -can no more atone, i. e, be reconciled, agree; for in this fenfe the word is as frequently ufed, as in the active one, to pacify, to reconcile, So, in As you like it;

Then is there mirth in heaven,

When earthly things, made even,
Atone together.

And in many other passages of our Author,

You and your apron-men; that stood fo much
Upon the voice of occupation, and

The breath of garlic-eaters.

Com. He'll thake your Rome about your ears. Men. As Hercules did fhake down mellow fruit: You have made fair work!

Bru. But is this true, Sir?

Com. Ay, and you'll look pale
Before you find it other. All the regions
Do milingly revolt; and who refifts

Are mocked for valiant ignorance,

And perish constant fools: who is't can blame him?
Your enemies and his find something in him.
Men. We're all undone, unless

The noble man have mercy.

Com. Who fhall afk it?

The tribunes cannot do't for fhame; the people
Deferve fuch pity of him, as the wolf

Does of the shepherds: his best friends, if they
Shou'd fay, be good to Rome, they charge him even
As thofe fhould do that had deserved his hate,
And therein fhewed like enemies.

Men. 'Tis true.

If he were putting to my house the brand
That would confume it, I have not the face
To fay, befeech you, ceafe. You've made fair hands,
You and your crafts! you've crafted fair.

Com. You've brought

A trembling upon Rome, fuch as was never
So incapable of help.

Tri. Say not, we brought it.

Men. How? was it we? we loved him; but like

beats,

And coward nobles, gave way to your clusters,

Who did hoot him out o' th' city.

Com. But I fear,