Imatges de pàgina
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The Beauties of SHAKESPEAR. Where he should find you lions, finds

you

hares :
Where foxes, geese: you are no furer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hail-stone in the sun. Your virtue is,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves

your
hate; and

your

affections are A fick man's appetite, who desires most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead, And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye trust ye ! With every

do change a mind, And call him noble, that was now your hate; Him vile, that was your garland.

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SCENE V. Aufidius's Hatred to Coriolanus.

-Nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, fick, nor fame, nor capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of facrifice,
Embarments of all fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it

At

Of whom to be disprais'd, were no small praise,
His lot who dares be fingularly good ?
Th' intelligent among them and the wise

Are few, and glory scarce of few is rais’d.
In the second line of the text, the meaning seems plain to any

vulgar reader ; but Mr. Warburton imagining something more
than his author intended, alters it to

That likes not peace nor war. The author is describing the fickleness of the mob, whom nothing pleases ; uneasy, murmuring and rebellious in time of peace; fearful, discontented and cowardly in time of war; affrighted and rendered clamorous by the one ; saucy and' wavering, being made proud, by the other. The reader may see the humour of this set of people, in the 4th Act, and 8th Scene of the play, which (if there wants any) may cast some light on the passage.

At home upon any brother's guard, ev’n there,
Against the hospitable canon, wou'd I
Wash

my

fierce hand in's heart,

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SCENE VI. An imaginary Defcription of Corio

lanus warring.
(2) Methinks, I hither hear your husband's drum :
I see him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair :
As children from a bear, the Volsci shunning him:
Methinks, I see him stamp thus--and call thus-
Come on ye cowards, ye were got in fear,
Though ye were born in Rome :" his bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes
Like to a harvest man, that's talk'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

Virg. His bloody brow! Oh, Yupiter, no blood !
Vol. Away, you fool; it more becomes a man,
Than gilt his trophy. The breast of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hcelor, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood
At Grecian swords contending.
SCENE XI. Doing our Duty merits not Praise.

Pray, now no more : my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she 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.

ACT

(2) Mcthinks, &c.] This martial speech is spoken by Volumnia, the mother of Coriolanus, to his wife Virgilia. I cannot approve the third line: the word children is frequently made three fylla. bles by Shakespear, and other old poets; so that we might read, as children a bear, or rather, as children do a bear. It may indeed do as it now stands, spunning being taken in the sense of flying, but still, hunning from, is harsh.

ACT II. SCENE IV.

Popularity.
All tongues speak of him, and the bleared fights
Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse
Into a (3) raptare lets her baby cry,

While

(3) Rapture.] i. c. A taking away, a fit. Seld-Shown Flamins, is particular,meaning, seldom shewn or seen. The war of white and damask means only the firuggle, or contention between thein for fuperiority: and tho', as Mr. Warburton observes, “it is the agreement and union of the colours that make the beauty ;' yet these two may be well said to war or contenid with each other for superior beauty : so that I think, there is no need of altering the passage, as he would have it, to ware. The expression, that whatfocver god who leads him, is particular too, and is to be understood as if he had said, as if that god, whatever god it be, who leads bim, &c.

When I made the remark above on Mr. Wartuston's criticism of ware, I did not know Mr. Edwards had taken any notice of it : however, I find in the 94th page of his Carons of Criticifm, he observes, “ Perhaps some other professed critic, difiking Mr. Warburton's Commodity, and being offended with the idea of venality which the word merchandise gives in this place, (for the reader must know, he explains ware, by commodity and merchandije) may tell us we should read, commit the wear, i. e. hazard the wearing out-commit, from commettre, an old French word, which is no small recommendation to it; but a poor poetical reader would let this figure pass; and not be alarmed (except for his own heart) on account of this innocent war between the roses and lillies in a lady's cheek ; remembering that beautiful tho' simple description of it, in the old ballad of Faig Rofamond.

The blood within her crystal cheeks

Did such a colour drive,
As though the lilly and the rose

For mastership did strive.
If Mr. Warburton should object to the authority of this unknown
poet, I hope he will allow that of Shakespear himself, who in his
Tarquin and Lucrece, has these lines,

While se chats him : the kitchin malkin pins
Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
Clamb'ring the walls to eye him; talls, bulks, windows
Are smother'd up, leads filld, and ridges hors'd
With variable complexions: all agreeing
In earnestness to see him : feld-shown flamins
Do press among the popular throngs, and puff
To win a vulgar station; our veil'd dames
Commit the war of white and damask, in
Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to th’ wanton spoil
Of Pbæbus' burning kifes: such a pother,
As if that whatsoever god, who leads him,
Were flily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.

SCENE VI.

Cominius' Speech in the Senatea
I shall lack voice : the deeds of Coriolanus
Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
That valour is the chiefeít virtue, and
Most dignifies the haver: if it be,
The man I speak of cannot in the world
Be singly counterpois’d. At fixteen years,
When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,
Whom with all praise I point at, faw him fight,
When with his Amazonian chin he drove
The bristled lips before him : he bestrid
An o'er-preft Roman, and i'th' consul's view
Slew three opposers; Tarquin's self he met,
And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the scene,

He

This silent war of lillies and of roses,
Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field.

p. 103. Sewel's de See too the foregoing stanza in the same poem.

He prov'd best man i'th' field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil-age
Man enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea,
And in the brunt of seventeen battles since
He lurch'd all swords o'th' garland. For this last
Before, and in Corioli, let me fay
I cannot speak him home: he ftopt the flyers,
And by his rare example made the coward
Turn terror into sport. As waves before
A vessel under fail, so men obey'd,
And fell below his stern: his sword (death's stamp)
Where it did mark, it took from face to foot :
He was a thing of blood, whose every

motion
Was trimm'd with dying cries : alone he enter'd
The mortal gate o’th' city, which he painted
With shunless destiny : aidless came off,
And with a sudden re-inforcement struck
Corioli, like a planet. Nor all's this ;
For by and by the din of war 'gan pierce
His ready sense, when straight his doubled spirit
Requicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,
And to the battle came he; where he did
Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if
'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'a
Both field and city ours, he never stood
To ease his breast with panting.

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The Mischief of Anarchy.

My soul akes
To know, when two authorities are up,
Neither supreme, how soon confusion
May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take
The one by th' other.

SCENE

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