Be fingly counter-pois'd. At fixteen years, (17) And, in the brunt of feventeen battels fince, (17) And in the Brunt of fev'nteen Battles fince.] I cannot help making a Remark upon this Circumftance of our Author's Conduct, whether cafual or defignedly. It is faid, and the Fact is true, that he has follow'd Plutarch very closely in this Story; but he deviates from him in one Point, by which he feems to decline a strange Abfurdity in the Calculation of Time. Shakespeare tells us, that, at fixteen Years old, Coriolanus began his Soldiership, when Tarquin made Head to regain his Kingdom; and that in feventeen Battles he diftinguifh'd himself with exemplary Bravery and Succefs. Plutarch likewife fays, that our Hero fet out in Arms a Youth, that his first Expedition was when Tarquin made this Push, and that he fignaliz'd himself in War for seventeen Years fucceffively. Now it happens a little unluckily for Plutarch's Account that this Attempt of Tarquin was made Anno U. C. 258, and Coriolanus was banish'd, nay and kill'd within the Period of eight Years after his first Campaign, Anno U. C. 266. There is fomething again lies cross on the other Side, that if Coriolanus was fo young when he commenced Soldier, and if the Interval was fo fhort betwixt That and his Banishment, he was too young to have been admitted a Candidate for the Confulfhip. The Compliment of that Office fo early to any Man was a Proftitution of Dignity, that, I think, was never made 'till the Times of the Emperours, when Servitude had debafed the very Spirits of the Ro"Tis certain, there is fome Miltake in the Computation of this Great Man's Years. I fhould conjecture (were there any Proofs to fecond it) that he started into Notice as a Soldier, when Tarquin was expell'd Rome, Anno U. C. 245; and allowing him only to be eighteen Years of Age then, at the time of his own Banishment (U. C. 264) we fhall find him 37 Years old; a Period of Life, at which the City could fcarcely have refus'd One of his extraordinary Merit the Confulfbip. — But This is no more than an Attempt to reconcile Improbabilities by Guefs. mans. I I cannot speak him home: he ftopt the fliers, And fell below his ftern: his fword, (death's ftamp) Men. Worthy Man! 1 Sen. He cannot but with measure fit the Honours, Which we devise him. Com. Our spoils he kick'd at, And look'd upon things precious, as they were Men. He's right noble, Let him be called for. Sen. Call Coriolanus. Off. He doth appear. Enter Coriolanus. Men. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd To make thee Conful. Cor. I do owe them still My life, and fervices. Men. Men. It then remains That you do speak to th' People. Cor. I beseech you, Let me o'er-leap that Cuftom; for I cannot Put on the Gown, ftand naked, and entreat them, Sic. Sir, the People must have their voices, Men. Put them not to't: pray, fit you to the Custom, And take t'ye, as your Predeceffors have, Your Honour with your form. Cor. It is a Part That I fhall blush in acting, and might well Be taken from the People. Bru. Mark you That? Cor. To brag unto them, thus I did, -and thus, Shew them th' unaking scars, which I would hide, Of their breath only Men. Do not ftand upon't: We recommend t'ye, Tribunes of the People, Sen. (18) To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! Manent Sicinius and Brutus. Bru. You fee, how he intends to use the People. Sic. May they perceive's intent! he will require them, As if he did contemn what he requested Should be in them to give. Bru. (19) Come, we'll inform them Of our proceedings here: on th' market place, I know, they do attend us. [Exeunt. (18) Sic. To Coriolanus come all Joy and Honour!] How Mr. Pope came to put this kindly Wish in the Mouth of the Tribune, I can't say. We will fuppofe it to be Chance-medley. I have reftor'd it to the Body of the Senate, with all the preceding Editions. (19) Come, we'll inform them Of our Proceedings here on th' Market place, I know they do attend us.] But the Tribunes were not now on the Market SCENE changes to the Forum. Enter feven or eight Citizens. 1 Cit. (20) ONCE, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. 2 Cit. We may, Sir, if we will. 3 Cit. We have Power in our felves to do it, but it is a Power that we have no Power to do; for if he fhew us his wounds, and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into thofe wounds, and fpeak for them: fo, if he tells us his noble deeds, we must also tell him our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is monstrous; and for the multitude to be ingrateful, were to make a monster of the multitude; of the which, we being Members, fhould bring our felves to be monftrous Members. 1 Cit. And to make us no better thought of, a little help will ferve for once when We ftood up about the Corn, he himself ftuck not to call us the manyheaded multitude. Market place, but in the Capitol. The Pointing only wants to be rectified, and we fhall know what this Magiftrate would fay; viz.. Come, I know, the People attend us in the Forum; we'll go and inform them what Proceedings have been here in the Senate. (20) Oons! if he do require our Voices, we ought not to deny him.] What more Anachronisms, and more than ever the Poet either defign'd or flipt into! But this, like the boil'd Pig and Colliflower in the Farce, is of Squire Somebody's own befpeaking; and 'twill be but kind to let him have the Dish to himself. Mr. Pope, I prefume, hardly thinks that Blood and Wounds ever came into an Oath, 'till after the Crucifixion of our Saviour. But, to fet that Question apart, our Citizens here are no fuch bluftering Blades. They fay honeftly, in all the other Editions, no Once, if he do require our Voices, &c. i, e. In a word, once for all, I've faid it once and I'll stand to it. more than This: So in Much Ado about Nothing. 'Tis once, thou lov'ft: So in Anthonio and Cleopatra. Men. Wilt thou be Lord of all the World? Pomp. What fay'ft Thou? Men. Wilt thou be Lord of all the World? that's twice. And in a number more of Inftances. 3 Git. We have been call'd fo of many; not that our heads are fome brown, fome black, fome auburn, fome bald; but that our wits are fo diverfly colour'd; and truly, I think, if all our wits were to iffue out of one fcull, they would fly Eaft, Weft, North, South, and their confent of one direct way would be at once to all Points o'th' Compass. 2 Cit. Think you fo? which way, do you judge, my wit would fly? 3 Cit. Nay, your wit will not fo foon out as another man's will, 'tis ftrongly wedg'd up in a blockhead: but if it were at liberty, 'twould, fure, fouthward. 2 Cit. Why that way? 3 Cit. To lofe it felf in a fog; where being three parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for confcience fake, to help to get thee a Wife. 2 Cit. You are never without your tricks may, you may — you 3 Cit. Are you all refolved to give your voices? but that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I say, if he would incline to the People, there was never a worthier Man. Enter Coriolanus in a Gown, with Menenius. Here he comes, and in the Gown of Humility, mark his behaviour: we are not to stay all together, but to came by him where he ftands, by one's, by two's, and by three's. He's to make his requefts by particulars, wherein every one of us has a fingle honour, in giving him our own voices with our own tongues: therefore follow me, and I'll direct you how you fhall go by him. All. Content, content. Men. Oh, Sir, you are not right; have you not known, The worthiest Men have done't? . Cor. What must I say? I pray, Sir, plague upon't, I cannot bring -my wounds- My tongue to fuch a pace! Look, Sir, E Some |