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turn thy Solemnnefs out o' door, and go along with us. Vir. No: at a word, Madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Walls of Corioli.

Enter Marcius, Titus Lartius, with Captains and Soldiers: To them a Messenger.

Mar.

Onder

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comes news: a wager, they have met. Lart. My horfe to yours, no.

Mar. 'Tis done.

Lart. Agreed.

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

Mar. I'll buy him of you.

Lart. No, I'll not sell, nor give him: lend him you,
I will,

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

Mar. Then fhall we hear their larum, and they ours.
Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work;
That we with fmoaking fwords may march from hence,
To help our fielded Friends! Come, blow thy blaft.
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 less 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 off.

There is Aufidius. Lift, what work he makes.
Among your cloven army.

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Mar.

Mar. Oh, they are at it!

Lart. Their noise be our inftruction. Ladders, ho!

Enter the Volfcians.

Mar. They fear us not, but iffue 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.

Mar. (4) All the Contagion of the South light on

you,

You fhames of Rome, you!-herds of boils and plagues Plaifter you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd

Farther than feen, and one infect another

Against the wind a mile!

you fouls of geefe,

That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From Slaves, that apes would beat? Pluto and Hell!
All hurt behind, backs red, and faces pale,

With flight, and agued fear! mend, and charge home,
Or, by the fires of Heaven, I'll leave the Foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't, come on;

(4) All the Contagion of the South light on You,

You Shames of Rome; you Herds; of Boils and Plagues Plaifter you o'er, &c.] Thus miferably did the old Editors give us this Paffage mangled by bad Pointing; and Mr. Pope would not indulge bis private Senfe, by any Alteration to make it intelligible. The meaneft Judges of English must be aware, that no Member of any Sentence 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 Senfe or Syntax is there in the Paffage as it here stands?

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-hardiness, 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.

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, (5)
And, when it bows, ftands up: thou art left, Marcius
A carbuncle intire, as big as thou art,

Were not so rich a jewel. Thou waft a foldier (6)

(5) Who fenfibly outdares bis fenfeless Sword,

And when it bows, ftands up.]

Even

The fine and eafy Emendation of this Paffage, which I have inferted in the Text, is owing to the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. (6) 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 Grimnefs of his Countenance. But who was this Calvus, that wifh'd these three Characteristicks in a Soldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman History will be at a lofs to account for fuch a Man and fuch Circumstances join'd to fignalize him. I formerly amended the Paffage, and prov'd that the Poet must have wrote,

Even to Cato's Wish;

Q 3

The

Mar. Oh, they are at it!

Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!

Enter the Volfcians.

Mar. They fear us not, but iffue 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.

fellows;

Come on, my

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volfcian,
And he shall feel mine edge.

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

Mar. (4) All the Contagion of the South light on you,

You fhames of Rome, you!- herds of boils and plagues Plaifter you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd

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 Slaves, that apes would beat? Pluto and Hell!
All hurt behind, backs red, and faces pale,

With flight, and agued fear! mend, and charge home,
Or, by the fires of Heaven, I'll leave the Foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't, come on;

(4) All the Contagion of the South light on You,

You Shames of Rome; you Herds; of Boils and Plagues Plaifter you o'er, &c.] Thus miferably did the old Editors give us this Paffage mangled by bad Pointing; and Mr. Pope would not indulge bis private Senfe, by any Alteration to make it intelligible. The meaneft Judges of English muft be aware, that no Member of any Sentence 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 Senfe of Syntax is there in the Paffage as it here stands?

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If you'll ftand 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 seconds; '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-hardiness, 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.

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, (5)
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 foldier (6)

(5) Who fenfibly outdares bis fenfelefs Sword,

And when it bows, ftands up.]

Even

The fine and eafy Emendation of this Paffage, which I have inferted in the Text, is owing to the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. (6) 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 wifh'd these three Characteristicks in a Soldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman History will be at a lofs to account for fuch a Man and 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 Wifß ;·

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