Enter Titus Lartius. Lart. What is become of Marcius? 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, Lart. Oh, noble fellow ! Who, fenfible, out-does his fenfeless sword, (5) 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 (5) Who fenfibly outdares his fenelefs Savord, 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 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 Whilft I, with those that have the spirit, will hafte Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleed'ft; Mar. Sir, praise me not: My work hath yet not warm'd 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 Mar. Thy friend no lefs, Than Than those she placeth higheft! fo, farewel. Go, found thy trumpet in the market-place, 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, That both our powers, with fmiling fronts encountring, Enter a Meffenger. Mef. The citizens of Corioli have iffued, 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 VOL. VI. Enter Enter Marcius. Com. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flea'd? O Gods! 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 Com. Flower of warriors, Mar. As with a man bufied about decrees; Even like a fawning grey-hound in the leafh, 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 Mar. I do befeech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, Com. Though I could wish, You were conducted to a gentle bath, Mar. Thofe are they, That most are willing; If any such be here, If any think, brave death out-weighs bad life, And follow Marcius. [They all fhout, and wave their words, take him up Oh! me alone, make you a fword of me: |