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Enter Titus Lartius, with his Power, from the purfuit.

Lart. O General,

Here is the steed, we the caparifon.

Hadft thou beheld-

Cor. Pray now, no more. My Mother, Who has a charter to extol her blood, When fhe does praise me, grieves me.

I have done as you have done; that's, what I can ; Induc'd, as you have been; that's for my Country, He, that has but effected his good will,

Hath overta'en mine act.

Com. You fhall not be

The Grave of your deferving. Rome must know
The value of her own; 'twere a concealment
Worfe than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your Doings; and to filence that,
Which, to the fpire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would feem but modeft. Therefore, I befeech you,
In fign of what you are, not to reward

What you have done, before our army hear me.
Cor. I have fome wounds upon me, and they fmart
To hear themselves remembred.

Ccm. * Should they not,

Well might they fefter 'gainst ingratitude,

And tent themfelves with death. Of all the horses,
Whereof we have ta'en good, and good ftore, of all
The treasure in the field atchiev'd, and city,
We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth,
Before the common diftribution, at

Your only choice.

Cor. I thank you, General,

But cannot make my heart confent to take

3 Here is the feed, we the caparifon.] This is an odd encomium. The meaning is, this man performed the action, and ave only filled up the shor.

4-a charter to extol-1 A privilege to praife her own fon.

Should they not,] That is, not be remembered.

A bribe, to pay my fword. I do refufe it,
And ftand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long flour fb. They all cry, Marcius, Marcius!
caft up their caps and launces: Cominius and Lar-
tius ftand bare.

Cor. May these fame inftruments, which you pro-
fane,

Never found more! When drums and trumpets fhall
I' th' field prove flatterers, let camps, as cities,
Be made of falfe-fac'd foothing! When fteel grows
Soft as the parafite's filk, let Hymns be made
An overture for the wars!-No more, I fay;
For that I have not wafh'd my note that bled,
Or foil'd fome debile wretch, which, without note
Here's many elfe have done; you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I lov'd, my little fhould be dieted
In praifes fauc'd with lies.

Com. Tco modeft are you;

5 In the old copy:
—when drums and trumpets fhall,
I' th' fuld, prove flatterers, et

COURTS AND cities

Be made ALL of falfe-fac'd footbing. When feel grorus foft as the parefie's filk, Let him be made an overture for thavars: All here is miferably corrupt and disjointed. We should read the whole thus, -when drums and trumpets fball,

I' th' field, prove flatterers, let

CAMPS, AS cities,
Be made of falje-fac'd foothing!

When jieel grows
Soft as the parafite's filk, let
HYMNS be made

An overture for the wars!

The thought is this, If one thing changes its usual nature to a thing mofl oppofite, there is no reafon but that all the reft which depend on it fhould do fo too. [If drums and trumpets prove flatterers, let the camp bear the falfe face of the city.] And if another changes its ufual nature, that its oppofite fhould do fo too. [When feel foftens to the condition of the parafite's filk, the peaceful hymns of devotion should be employed to excite to the charge.] Now, in the first inftance, the thought, in the common reading, was entirely loft by putting in courts for camps: and the latter miferably involved in nonfenfe, by blundering Hymns WARBURTON. into him. More

More cruel to your good report, than grateful
To us, that give you truly. By your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you,
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
Then reafon fafely with you. Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland; in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,

With all th' applaufe and clamour of the Hoft,
Caius Marcius Coriolanus.

Bear th' addition nobly ever.

[Flourish. Trumpets found and drums.

Omnes. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!

Cor. I will go wash:

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to ftride your Steed, and at all time
To undercreft your good Addition,

7 To th' fairnefs of my Power.

Com. So. To our tent;

Where, ere we do repofe us, we will write
To Rome of our fucceffes. You, Titus Lartius,
Muft to Corioli back; fend us to Rome

* The Beft, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good, and ours.

Lart. I fhall, my lord.

Cor. The Gods begin to mock me,

I, that but now refus'd moft princely gifts,
Am bound to beg of my Lord General.
Com. Take it. 'Tis yours.

To undercreft your good Addition,] A phrafe from heraldry, fignifying, that he would endeavour to fupport his good opinion of him. WARBURTON.

7 To th' fairness of my Power.] Fairness, for utmoft, WARB.

What is't?

I know not how fairness can mean utmost. When two engage on equal terms, we fay it is fair; fairness may therefore be equality; in proportion equal to my power.

The Beft,-] The chief men of Corioli. L13

Cor.

Cor. I fometime lay here in Corioli,

At a poor man's houfe; he us'd me kindly.
He cry'd to me; I faw him prifoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity. I request you,
To give my poor Hoft Freedom.

Com. O well begg'd!

Were he the butcher of my fon, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?

Cer. By Jupiter, forgot.

I am weary; yea, my memory is tir’d.
Have we no wine here?

Com. Go we to our tent.

The blood upon your vifage dries; 'tis time

It fhould be look'd to.

Come.

SCEN E XII.

[Exeunt.

Changes to the Camp of the Volfci.

A Flourish. Cornet. Enter Tullus Aufidius bloody, with two or three foldiers.

Auf. HE town is ta'en!

THE

Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.

Auf. Condition!

I would, I were a Roman; for 1 cannot,
Being a Volfcian, be that I am. Condition?
What good condition can a treaty find

I' th' part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee, fo often haft thou beat me,

Being aVolfcian, &c.] It may be juft obferved, that Shakespeare calls the Velfei, Volfces, which the modern editors have changed to the modern termination. I

mention it here, because here the change has fpoiled the meafure. Bing a Volice, be that I am. Condition ?

And

And would't do fo, I think, fhould we encounter
As often as we eat. By th' Elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his. Mine emulation
Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
True Sword to Sword, I'll potch at him fome way,
Or wrath, or craft may get him.

Sol. He's the Devil.

Auf. Bolder, tho' not fo fubtle.
fon'd,

1

My valour poi

With only fuffering ftain by him, for him
Shall flie out of itfelf: Not fleep nor fanctuary,
Being naked, fick, nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of facrifice,
Embarrments all of fury, fhall lift up
Their rotten privilege and cuftom 'gainst

My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it

9

for him

Shall flie out of itflf:-] To mifchief him my valour thould deviate from its own native generonity.

1—not fleep, nor fan&tury, &c. EMBARKMENTS all of fury, &c.] The dramatick art of this fpeech is great. For after Aufidius had fo generously received Cariclanus in exile, nothing but the memory of this fpeech, which lets one fo well into Aufidius's nature, could make his after perfidy and bafenefs at all probable. Dat the fecond line of this impious rant is corrupt. For tho', indeed, he might call the affaulting Marcius at any of thofe facred feafons and places an embarkment of fury; yet he Could not call the feafons and places themselves, fo. We may

believe therefore that Shakespear

wrote,

EMBARRMENTS all of fury,

&c.

i. e. obftacles. Tho' thofe feafons and places are all obftacles to my fury, yet, &c. The Oxford Editor has, in his ufual way, refined upon this emendation, in order to make it his own; and fo reads, Embankments, not confidering how ill this metaphor agrees with what is faid just after of their LIFTING up their ROTTEN privilege, which evidently refers to a wooden bar, not to an earthen bank. Thefe two Generals are drawn equally covetous of glory: But the Volfcian not fcrupulous about the means. And his immediate repentance, after the affaffinate, well agrees with fuch a character. WARB.

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