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Mar.

I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long Flourish. They all cry, MARCIUS! MARCIUS! cast up their Caps and Lances : COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare.

Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane,

Never sound more, when drums and trumpets shall
I' the field prove flatterers: let courts and cities be
Made all of false-fac'd soothing,

When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk:
Let them be made an overture for the wars"!
No more, I say. For that I have not wash'd
My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch,
Which without note here's many else have done,
You shout me forth

In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I loved my little should be dieted
In praises sauc'd with lies.

Too modest are you:

Com.
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,

7 Let THEM be made an overture for the wars !] This and the five preceding lines have occasioned comment, but we do not think that any of the modern explanations have quite arrived at the full sense of the poet. We regulate the passage as in the first folio, and, adhering, with a slight exception, to the words of the original, we only adopt a different punctuation. The meaning of Coriolanus seems to be, "Let drums and trumpets never sound more, if they are to be profaned by you into flatterers: leave it to courts and cities to be made of false-fac'd soothing, when steel grows as soft as the parasite's silk; but let them (drums and trumpets) be made a prelude to the wars." We do not see the necessity for any change, but of him to "them," in which we follow Mr. Knight. Tyrwhitt would alter ❝ him," in the last line, to this, and " overture" to coverture; but in all cases, when sense can be made of it, we prefer to give the poet's language, as far as the folio, 1623, will enable us to ascertain it.

66

Then reason safely 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' applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.-

Bear the addition nobly ever!

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums.

All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !

Cor. I will go wash 8;

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no: howbeit, I thank you.—
I mean to stride your steed; and, at all times,
To undercrest your good addition

To the fairness of my power.

So, to our tent;

Com.
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write

To Rome of our success.-You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome

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

Lart.

I shall, my lord.

Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg

Of my lord general.

Com.

Take it 'tis yours.-What is't?

Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli,

At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;

But then Aufidius was within my view,

8 Cor. I will go wash ;] In the prefixes of the folio he is nevertheless still called Marcius. Lartius also afterwards says, "Marcius, his name?" as it were, forgetting" the addition" just before made by Cominius.

9 The BEST, with whom we may articulate,] i. e. The principal persons of Corioli, with whom we may enter into articles. For a similar use of "articulate," see Vol. iv. p. 319.

And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity. I request you
To give my poor host freedom.

Com.

O, well begg'd!

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

Cor.

By Jupiter, forgot:

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

Com.

Go we to our tent.

Come.

[Exeunt.

The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time

It should be look'd to.

SCENE X.

The Camp of the Volsces.

A Flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. Twill be deliver❜d back on good condition. Auf. Condition!—

I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,

Being a Volsce, be that I am.-Condition!

What good condition can a treaty find

I' the part that is at mercy?-Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me;
And would'st do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat.-By the elements,

If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He is 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 some way,
Or wrath, or craft, may get him.

1 Sol.

He's the devil.

My valour's

Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle.

poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself'. Nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick; nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury2, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I

Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city:
Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must
Be hostages for Rome.

1 Sol.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray

you,

(Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it

I may spur on my journey.

1 Sol.

I shall, sir.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Rome. A Public Place.

Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.

Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news tonight.

1 Shall fly out of itself:] So the old copies: we might read, "My valour, poison'd with only suffering stain by him, shall fly out of itself."

2 EMBARQUEMENTS all of fury,] "Embarquement" is to be taken here in the sense of embargoes or impediments. Coleridge (Lit. Rem. vol. ii. p. 135.) was disposed to think this speech out of nature.

Bru. Good, or bad?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. Pray you, whom does the wolf love?

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.

Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both Trib. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. Sic. Especially, in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

Men. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the right-hand file? Do you?

Both Trib. Why, how are we censured?

Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry?

Both Trib. Well, well, sir; well.

Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?

Bru. We do it not alone, sir.

Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O! that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, and

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