Enter Titus Lartius.

Lart. What is become of Marcius?
All. Slain, Sir, doubtless.

1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,
With them he enters; who, upon the fudden,
Clapt to their gates; he is himself alone,
To answer all the city.

Lart. Oh, noble fellow !

Who, fenfible, out-does his fenfeless sword, (5)
And, when it bows, ftands up: thou art left, Marcius
A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,

Were not fo rich a jewel.

Thou waft a foldier (6)

Even to Cato's with, not fierce and terrible

Only in ftrokes, but with thy grim looks, and
The thunder-like percuffion of thy founds,

(5) Who fenfibly outdares his fenelefs Savord,
And when it b.ws, ftands up.]

The fine and eafy emendation of this Paffage, which I have inferted in the Text, is owing to the ingenious Doctor Thirlby.

(6) Thou waft a Soldier

Even to Calvus' Wish;]

T. Lartius is here fumming up his Friend's Character, as a Warrior that was terrible in his Strokes, in the Tone of his Voice, and the Grimness of his Countenance. But who was this Calvus, that wifhed these three Cha:acteristicks in a Soldier? I am afraid, Greek and Roman Hiftory will be at a Lofs to account for fuch a Man and fuch Circumftances joined to fignalize him. 1 formerly amended the Paffage, and proved that the Poet must have wrote,

Even to Cato's Wish;

The Error probably arofe from the Similitude in the Manufcript of to to lv and fo this unknown Wight Calvus fprung up. I come now to the Authorities for my Emendation. Plutarch, in the Life of Coriolanus, speaking of this Hero, fays; He was a Man (that which CATO required in a Warrior) not only dreadful to meet with in the Field, by reafon of his Hand and Stroke; but insupportable to an Enemy, for the pery Tone and Accent of his Voice: and the fole Terror of bis Afpect.. -This again is confirmed by the Hiftorian, in the Life of Marcus C A To the Cenfor. In Engagements (fays he ;) be would ufe to ftrike luftily, with a fierce Countenance flare upon bis Enemies, and with a harsh threatning Voice acceft them. Nor was be out of bis Opinion, whilft he taught, that fuch rugged kind of Bebaviour fometimes does flrike the Enemy more than the Sword itself.

Thou

Thou mad'ft thine enemies fhake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.

Enter Marcius bleeding, affaulted by the Enemy.

1 Sol. Look, Sir

Lart. O, 'tis Marcius.

Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the City.

Enter certain Romans with Spoils.

1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome.

2 Rom. And I this.

3 Rom. A murrain on't, I took this for filver.

[Alarm continues ftill afar off.

Enter Marcius and Titus Lartius, with a Trumpet.

Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their honours
At a crack'd drachm: cushions, leaden fpoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with thofe that wore them, these base flaves,
Ere yet the fight be done, pack up; down with them;
And hark, what noise the General makes!-to him ;-
There is the man of my foul's hate, Aufidius,
Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take
Convenient numbers to make good the city;

Whilft I, with those that have the spirit, will hafte
To help Cominius.

Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleed'ft;
Thy exercife hath been too violent
For a fecond course of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not:

My work hath yet not warm'd me.
The blood, I drop, is rather phyfical
Than dangerous to me.

Fare you well:

'T' Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight.

Lart. Now the fair goddefs fortune

Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms
Mifguide thy oppofers' fwords! bold gentleman!
Profperity be thy page!

Mar. Thy friend no lefs,

Than

Than those she placeth higheft! fo, farewel.
Lart. Thou worthieft Marcius,

Go, found thy trumpet in the market-place,
Call thither all the officers o'th' town,

Where they shall know our mind. Away. [Exeunt.

Com.

SCENE changes to the Roman Camp.

Enter Cominius retreating, with Soldiers.

Beathe you, my friends; well fought; we are come off

Beathe

Like Romans, neither foolish in our ftands,

Nor cowardly in retire: Believe me, Sirs,
We fhall be charg'd again. Whiles we have ftruck,
By interims and conveying gufts, we have heard
The charges of our friends. The Roman Gods
Lead their fucceffes, as we wish our own;

That both our powers, with fmiling fronts encountring,
May give you thankful facrifice! Thy news?

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. The citizens of Corioli have iffued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle.
I faw our party to the trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com. Tho' thou speak'ft truth,

Methinks, thou speak'ft not well. How long is't fince ?Mef. Above an hour, my Lord.

Com. 'Tis not a mile: briefly, we heard their drums. How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,

And bring the news fo late?

Mef. Spies of the Volfcians

Held me in chafe, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, Sir,
Half an hour fince brought my report.

VOL. VI.

Enter

Enter Marcius.

Com. Who's yonder,

That does appear as he were flea'd? O Gods!
He has the ftamp of Marcius, and I have
Before time feen him thus.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. The fhepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, More than I know the found of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.

Mar. Oh let me clip ye (7)

In arms as found, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burnt to bedward.

Com. Flower of warriors,
How is't with Titus Lartius ?

Mar. As with a man bufied about decrees;
Condemning fome to death, and fome to exile,
Ranfoming him, or pitying, threatning th' other;
Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning grey-hound in the leafh,
To let him flip at will.

Com. Where is that flave,

Which told me, they had beat you to your trenches? Where is he? call him hither.

Mar. Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, The common file, (a plague! Tribunes for them!) The mouse ne'er fhun'd the cat, as they did budge From rafcals worse than they.

(7) Ob! let me clip ye

In Arms as found, as when I woo'd in heart :]

Dr. Thirlby advifed the different Regulation in the Pointing of this Paffage, which I have embraced, as I think it much improves the Senfe and Spirit, and conveys too the Poet's Thought, that Marcius was as found in Limb, as when he went a Wooing; and as merry in Heart, as when going to Bed to his Bride.

Com.

Com. But how prevail'd you?

Mar. Will the time ferve to tell? I do not think Where is the enemy? are you Lords i'th' field ? If not, why cease you 'till you are fo? Com. Marcius, we have at difadvantage fought, And did retire, to win our purpose.

Mar. How lies their battle? know you on what fide They have plac'd their men of trust ?

Com. As I guess, Marcius,

Their bands i'th' vaward are the Antiates
Of their best truft: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.

Mar. I do befeech you,

By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By th' blood we have fhed together, by the vows
We'ave made to endure friends, that you directly
Set me againft Aufidius, and his Antiates;
And that you not delay the present, but
Filling the air with fwords advanc'd, and darts,
We prove this very hour.

Com. Though I could wish,

You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms applied to you, yet dare I never
Deny your afking; take your choice of thofe,
That beft can aid your action.

Mar. Thofe are they,

That most are willing; If any such be here,
(As it were fin to doubt) that love this painting,
Wherein you fee me fmear'd; if any fear
Lefs for his person than an ill report :

If any think, brave death out-weighs bad life,
And that his country's dearer than himself,
Let him, alone, (or many, if fo minded)
Wave thus, t'exprefs his difpofition,

And follow Marcius.

[They all fhout, and wave their words, take him up
in their arms, and caft up their caps.

Oh! me alone, make you a fword of me:
If these fhews be not outward, which of you
But is four Volfcians? none of you, but is