Which were in-fhell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,

And durft not once peep out.

Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius!

Bru. Go fee this rumourer whipt. It cannot be, The Volfcians dare break with us.

Men. Cannot be!

We have Record, that very well it can:
And three examples of the like have been
Within my age. But reafon with the fellow
Before you punish him, where he heard this;
Left you fhall chance to whip your information,
And beat the meffenger, who bids beware
Of what is to be dreaded.

Sic. Tell not me :
I know, this cannot be.

Bru. Not poffible.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mell. The Nobles in great carneftness are going All to the Senate-houfe; fome news is come, That turns their countenances.

Sic. 'Tis this flave:

Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes: his raifing!
Nothing but his report!

Mef. Yes, worthy Sir,

The flave's report is feconded, and more,
More fearful is delivered.

Sic. What more fearful?

Mef. It is fpoke freely out of many mouths,
How probable I do not know, that Marcius,
Join'd with Aufidius, leads a Power 'gainst Rome ;
And vows Revenge as fpacious, as between
The young'ft and oldeft thing.

Sic. This is most likely !

Bru. Rais'd only, that the weaker fort

Good Marcius home again.

may wifh

Sic. The very trick on't.

Men. This is unlikely.

He

He and Aufidius can no more attone, (34)
Than violenteft contrariety.

Enter Meffenger.

Mef. You are fent for to the Senate:
A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,
Affociated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories; and have already
O'er-born their way, confum'd with fire, and took
What lay before them.

Enter Cominius.

Com. Oh, you have made good Work.
Men. What news? what news?

Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and

To melt the city-leads upon your pates,

To see your Wives difhonour'd to your nofes.
Men. What's the news? what's the news?
Com. Your Temples burned in their cement, and
Your franchises, whereon you food, confin'd
Into an augre's bore.

Men. Pray now, the news?

You've made fair work, I fear me: pray, your news? If Marcius fhould be joyned with the Volfcians,

Com. If? he is their God; he leads them like a thing

Made by fome other Deity than Nature,

That fhapes man better; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no lefs confidence,
Than boys pursuing fummer butter-flies,

(34) He and Aufidius can no more be one

Than violentest Contrariety.]

This is only Mr. Pope's Sophiftication. I have reftor'd the Reading of the genuine Copies;

-can no more atone, i. e. be reconcil'd, agree ; for in this Sente the Word is as frequently used, as in the active one, to pacify, to reconcile.

So in As you like it;

Then is there Mirth in Heav'n,

When earthly Things, made ev'n,
Atone together.

And in many other Paffages of our Author.

Or

Or butchers killing flies.

Men. You've made good work,

You and your apron-men; that stood fo much
Upon the voice of occupation, and

The breath of garlick-eaters.

Com. He'll shake your Rome about your ears. Men. As Hercules did shake down mellow fruit i You have made fair work!

Bru. But is this true, Sir?

Com. Ay, and you'll look pale

Before you find it other. All the Regions
Do fmilingly revolt; and, who refifts,

Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,

And perish constant fools: who is't can blame him?
Your enemies and his find fomething in him.
Men. We're all undone, unless

The noble man have mercy.

Com. Who fhall ask it?

The Tribunes cannot do't for fhamé; the people
Deferve fuch pity of him, as the wolf

Does of the fhepherds: his best friends, if they Shou'd fay, be good to Rome, they charge him even As those thould do that had deferv'd his hate,

And therein fhew'd like enemies.

Men. 'Tis true.

If he were putting to my houfe the brand
That would confume it, I have not the face

To fay, befeech you, ceafe. You've made fair hands,
You and your crafts! you've crafted fair!

Com. You've brought

A trembling upon Rome, fuch as was never
So incapable of help.

Tri. Say not, we brought it.

Men. How? was it we? we lov'd him; but, like beafts,

And coward Nobles, gave way to your clusters,

Who did hoot him out o'th' city.

Com. But I fear,

They'll roar him in again.
The fecond name of men,
VOL VI.

Tullus Aufidius,

obeys his points

H

As

As if he were his officer: Defperation
Is all the policy, ftrength, and defence,
That Rome can make against them.

Enter a Troop of Citizens.

Men. Here come the clufters.

And is Aufidius with him?

You are they,

That made the air unwholfome, when you caft
Your ftinking, greafie caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus' Exile. Now he's coming,

And not a hair upon a foldier's head,

Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs,
As you threw caps up, will he tumble down,
And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter,
If he should burn us all into one coal,

We have deferv'd it.

Omnes. Faith, we hear fearful news,

I Cit. For mine own part,

When I faid, banish him; I faid, 'twas pity. 2 Cit. And fo did I.

3 Cit. And fo did I; and to fay the truth, fo did very many of us; that we did, we did for the beft: and tho' we willingly confented to his Banishment, yet it was against our will.

Com. Y'are goodly things; you, voices!
Men. You have made good work,

You and your cry. Shall's to the Capitol?
Com. Oh, ay, what else?

[Exeunt.

Sic. Go, mafters, get you home, be not difmay'd. Thefe are a Side, that would be glad to have This true, which they fo feem to fear. Go home, And fhew no fign of fear,

1 Cit. The Gods be good to us: come, mafters, let's home. I ever faid, we were i'th' wrong, when we banish'd him.

2 Cit. So did we all; but come, let's home.

Bru. I do not like this news.

Sic. Nor I.

[Ex. Cit.

Bru. Let's to the Capitol, would, half my wealth

Would buy this for a lie!

Sic. Pray, let us go,

[Exeunt Tribunes.

SCENE

SCENE, a Camp; at a small Distance from Rome.

Enter Aufidius, with his Lieutenant.

O they still flie to th' Roman?

Auf. Do
D°

Lieu. I do not know what witchcraft's in
him; but

Your foldiers ufe him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end:
And you are darken'd in this action, Sir,
Even by your own.

Auf. I cannot help it now.

Unless, by using means, I lame the foot

Of our defign. He bears himself more proudly
Even to my perfon, than, I thought, he would
When firft I did embrace him. Yet his nature
In that's no changling, and I must excuse
What cannot be amended.

Lieu. Yet I wish, Sir.

(I mean for your particular) you had not
Join'd in Commiffion with him; but had borne
The action of your felf, or elfe to him

Had left it folely.

Auf. I understand thee well; and be thou fure,
When he shall come to his account, he knows not,
What I can urge against him; though it feems;
And fo he thinks, and is no less apparent
To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly's
And fhews good husbandry for the Volfcian State,
Fights dragon-like, and does atchieve as foon
As draw his fword: yet he hath left undone
That which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
When e'er we come to our account.

Lieu. Sir, I befeech, think you, he'll carry Rome?
Auf. All places yield to him ere he fits down,

And the Nobility of Rome are his;

The Senators and Patricians love him too:
The Tribunes are no foldiers; and their people

H 2

Will