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Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart,
Com. Should they not,
Mar. I thank you, General :
caft up their caps and launces : Cominius and Lar
tius ftand bare. Mar. May these famę Instruments, which you proq fane, (10)
(10) May these fame Inftruments, which you profane,
Never found more : when Drums and Trumpets shall
You shout me fortb in Acclamations hyperbolical, &c.]
Never found more! when drums and trumpets shall
Com. Too modest are you :
shall now subjoin his Comment, in Proof of the Emendations. “ The
Meaning, that Sense requires in the Antithesis evidently design'd “ here, is This. If One change its usual Nature to a Thing most
opposite, then let the Other do so too. But Courts and Cities, being “ made all of smooth-fac'd Soothing, remain in their proper Na
ture. In the second part of the Sentence, the Antithesis between “ Steel and the Parasite's Silk does not indeed labour with this Ab
surdity: but it labours with another equally bad, and That is, Non“ sense in the Expression. The Poet's whole Thought seems to be “ This. If Drums and Trumpets change their Nature preposterously, “ let Camps do so too: And in the latter part of the Sentence, the E“ mendation seems to give a particular Beauty to the Expression. He “ had said before, If Drums and Trumpets prove Flatterers ; now here,
alluding to the fame Thought, he says, Then let Hymns, Soft “Mufick dejtin'd to the praises of Gods and Heroes, be an Overture for “ the Wars: Where the Overture is used with great technical Pro
priety. I should observe one Thing, that the Members of " these two Antitheses are confounded One with Another, which is a “ Practice common with the best Authors: and it is a Figure the “ Rhetoricians have found a Name for,
Caius Marcius Coriolanus. Bear th' Addition nobly ever.
[Flourish. Trumpets found and drums. Omnes. Caius Marcius Coriolanus ! Mar. I will
Howbeit, I thank you.
Lart. I shall, my lord.
Mar. The Gods begin to mock me:
Com. Take't, 'tis youts: what is’t?
Mar. I sometime lay here in Corioli,
Com. O, well begg'd!
Lart. Marcius, his name?
Mar. By Jupiter, forgot :
Com. Go we to our tent;
SCENE changes to the Camp of the Volsci. 4 flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Aufidius bloody,
with two or three soldiers. Auf. TH
. Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condiAuf. Condition ! I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot, Being a Volscian, 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, so often haft thou beat me: And would'ít do so, I think, should 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 some way, Or wrath, or craft may get him.
Sol. He's the Deyil. Auf. Bolder, tho' not so subtle: my valour (poison'd, With only suffering stain by him) for him Shall flie out of it self: not sleep, nor sanctuary, Being naked, fick, nor fane, nor Capitol, The prayers of priests, nor times of facrifice, Embarkments all of fury, shall lift up Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were ic At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, Against the hospitable Canon, would I Walh my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' city; Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must Be hostages for Rome. 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 journcy. Sol. I fhall, Sir.
A CT II.
Enter Menenius, with Sicinius and Brutus.
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. 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
Both. Well, Sir;
you two have not in abundance?
Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stor'd with all.
Men. This is strange now; do you two know how you are censur'd here in the city, I mean of us o'thi' right hand file, do you? Bru. Why, how are we censur'd?
Men. Because you talk of pride now, will you not be angry?
Both. 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 pa