If you'll stand 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-hardinefs, not I.

2 Sol. Nor I.

1 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.

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 fenfeless sword, (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 waft a soldier (7)

(6) Who fenfibly outdares his fenfeless Sword, And when it bows, stands up.]

Even

The fine and easy Emendation of this Paffage, which I have inferted in the Text, is owing to the ingenious Dr. Thirlby.

(7) Thou waft a Soldier

Even to Calvus' Wish ;]

T. Lartius is here fumming up his Friend's Character, as a Warrior that was terrible in his Strokes, in the Tone of his Voice, and the Grimness of his Countenance. But who was this Calvus, that wish'd these three Characteristicks in a Soldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman Hiftory will be at a Lofs to account for fuch a Man ani fuch Circumftances join'd to fignalize him. I formerly amended the Paffage, and prov'd that the Poet must have wrote,

Even to Cato's Wish;

The Error probably arofe from the Similitude in the Manuscript 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 Co

riolanus

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

Thou mad'ft thine enemies fhake, as if the world
Were feaverous, and did tremble.

Enter Marcius bleeding, affaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Look, Sir.

Lart. O, 'tis Marcius.

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

[They fight, and all enter the City.

Enter certain Romans with Spoils.

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

[Alarum continues ftill afar off.

Enter Marcius and Titus Lartius, with a Trumpet.

Mar. See here these Movers, that do prize their ho

nours

At a crack'd drachm: cushions, leaden fpoons,

Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base flaves,

riolanus, speaking 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 his Hand and Stroke; 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 CATO the Cenfor. In Engagements (fays He;) he would use to strike luftily, with a fierce Countenance ftare upon his Enemies, and with a harsh threatning Voice accoft them. Nor was he out in his Opinion, whilft he taught, that such rugged kind of Behaviour fometimes does ftrike the Enemy more than the Sword it felf. 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 Anachronifm 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, whofe 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. Ere

C 3

Ere yet the fight be done, pack up; down with them;
And hark, what noife the General makes!-to him ;--
There is the man of my foul's hate, Aufidius,
Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take
Convenient numbers to make good the City;
Whilft I, with those that have the spirit, will hafte
To help Cominius.

Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleed'ft;

Thy exercise hath been too violent
For a fecond course of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not :

My work hath yet not warm'd me. Fare you well: The blood, I drop, is rather physical

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 lefs,

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

Go found thy trumpet in the market-place,

Call thither all the officers o'th' town,

Where they shall know our mind. Away. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Roman Camp.

Com.

Enter Cominius retreating, with Soldiers.

Reathe you, my friends; well fought; we are come off

Breathe

Like Romans, neither foolish in our Stands,
Nor cowardly in retire: Believe me, Sirs,
We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have ftruck,
By interims and conveying gufts, we have heard
The Charges of our friends. The Roman Gods
Lead their fucceffes, as we wish our own;
That both our Powers, with fmiling fronts encountring,
May give you thankful facrifice! Thy news?

Enter

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. The citizens of Corioli have issued, And given to Lartius and to Marcius battel. I faw our Party to their trenches driven, And then I came away.

Com. Tho' thou speak'st truth,

Methinks, thou speak'ft not well. How long is't fince? Mef. Above an hour, my lord.

Com. 'Tis not a mile: briefly, we heard their drums. How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour,

And bring the news so late?

Mef. Spies of the Volfcians

Held me in chafe, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, Sir,
Half an hour fince brought my report.

Enter Marcius.

Com. Who's yonder,

That does appear as he were flea'd? O Gods!
He has the ftamp of Marcius, and I have
Before time feen him thus.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. The fhepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, (8)

More than I know the found of Marcius' tongue
From every meaner man.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.

(8) The Shepherd knows not Thunder from a Tabor,

More than I know the Sound of Marcius' Tongue

From ev'ry meaner_Man.]

This has the Air of an Imitation, whether Shakespeare really borrow'd it, or no, from the Original: I mean, what Ulyffes fays in the Greek Poet of being able to diftinguish Minerva's Voice, tho' he did not fee her.

Ως ευμαθές Σου, κἂν ἄποπλος ἧς, ὅμως

Φώνημ' ακέω, καὶ ξυναρπάζω φρενί
Χαλκος με κώδωνος ὡς Τυρσηνικής.

C 4

Sophoc. in Ajace.

Mar.

Mar. Oh! let me clip ye (9)

In arms as found, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burnt to bedward.

Com. Flower of Warriors,
How is't with Titus Lartius?

Mar. As with a man bufied about Decrees;
Condemning fome to death, and some to exile,
Ranfoming him, or pitying, threatning th' other
Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning grey-hound in the leash,
To let him flip at will.

Com. Where is that flave,

9

Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Where is he? call him hither.

Mar. Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: but, for our gentlemen, The common file, (a plague! Tribunes for them!) The mouse ne'er fhunn'd the cat, as they did budge From rafcals worse than they.

Com. But how prevail'd you?

Mar. Will the time ferve to tell? I do not thinkWhere is the enemy? are you lords o'th' field? If not, why ceafe you till you are fo?

Com. Marcius, we have at difadvantage fought,

And did retire to win our purpose.

Mar. How lies their battel? know you on what fide They have plac'd their men of truft?

Com. As I guefs, Marcius,

Their bands i'th' vaward are the Antiates

Of their best truft: o'er them Aufidius,

Their very heart of hope.

Mar. I do befeech you,

By all the battels wherein we have fought,

(9) Oh! let me clip ye

In Arms as found, as when I woo'd in heart;]

Dr. Thirlby advised the different Regulation in the Pointing of this Paffage; which I have embraced, as I think it much improves the Senfe and Spirit, and conveys too the Poet's Thought, that Marcius was as found in Limb, as when he went a Wooing; and as merry in Heart, as when going to Bed to his Bride.

By