2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it. Auf. My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up: Help, three of the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.Beat thou the drum, than it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory.'Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead march sounded. VOL. II. (1) Memorial. The tragedy of Coriolanus is one of the most amusing of our author's performances. The old man's merriment in Menenius; the lofty lady's dignity in. Volumnia; the bridal modesty in Virgilia; the patrician and military haughtiness in Coriolanus; the plebeian malignity and tribunitian inso lence in Brutus and Sicinius, make a very pleasing and interesting variety; and the various revolutions of the hero's fortune, fill the mind with anxious curiosity. There is, perhaps, too much bustle in the first act, and too little in the last. 2 T JOHNSON. What tributaries follow him to Rome, HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? home; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou? Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cil. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soals. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow? 2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! Q, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude. Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, 2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the Assemble all the poor men of your sort ;' awl: I meddle with no tradesmen's matters, nor Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, Into the channel, till the lowest stream a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever See, whe'r' their basest metal be not mov'd; trod upon neat's-leather, have gone upon my handy-They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. work. [Exe. Cit. Go you down that way towards the Capitol; (3) Honorary ornaments; tokens of respect. Mar. May we do so? You know, it is the feast of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter; let no images [Exeunt. But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd; Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried SCENE II.-The same. A public place. Enter, Casca. Cas. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. Cal. Here, my lord. Cas. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, Ant. Sooth. Cæsar. Cas. Ha! who calls? [Music. Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet again. What man is that? Your hidden worthiness into your eye, Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, That you would have me seek into myself Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; That of yourself which you yet know not of. [Flourish and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of Choose Cæsar for their king. March. Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cas. I pray you, do. Cas. Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Well, honour is the subject of my story. Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: Bru. Cassius, I cannot tell, what you and other men I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: (4) The nature of your feelings. |