Mar. Oh, they are at it!

Lart. Their noise be our inftruction. Ladders, ho!

Enter the Volfcians.

Mar. They fear us not, but iffue forth their City. Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, brave Titus,

They do difdain us much beyond our thoughts;

Which makes me fweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows;

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volscian,

And he fhall feel mine edge.

[Alarum; the Romans beat back to their Trenches. Re-enter Marcius.

Mar. (4) All the Contagion of the South light on

you,

You fhames of Rome, ! you

Plaifter you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
Farther than seen, and one infect another

Against the wind a mile!

That bear the shapes of men,

herds of boils and plagues

you fouls of geese,

how have you run

From Slaves, that apes would beat? Pluto and Hell!
All hurt behind, backs red, and faces pale,

With flight, and agued fear! mend, and charge home,
Or, by the fires of Heaven, I'll leave the Foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't, come on;

(4) All the Contagion of the South light on Tou,

You Shames of Rome; you Herds; of Boils and Plagues Plaifter you 'er, &c. ] Thus miferably did the old Editors give us this Paffage mangled by bad Pointing; "and Mr. Pope would not indulge his private Senfe, by any Alteration to make it intelligible. The meaneft Judges of English muft be aware, that no Member of any Sentence can begin with a Genitive Cafe, and a preceding Nominative be wanting to govern That and the Verb. Where, therefore, is the Nominative to, of Boils and Plagues plaifter you o'er? Or what Senfe or Syntax is there in the Paffage as it here ftands?

If

If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
As they us to our trenches followed.

Another alarum, and Marcius follows them to the gates.

So, now the gates are ope: now prove good feconds; 'Tis for the followers, fortune widens them;

Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.

[He enters the gates, and is shut in. 1 Sol. Fool-hardiness, not I.

2 Sol. Nor I.

1 Sol. See, they have fhut him in: [Alarum continues. All. To th' pot, I warrant him.

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 fenfelefs fword, (5)
And, when it bows, stands up: thou art left, Marcius-

A carbuncle intire, as big as thou art,

Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier (6)

(3) Who fenfibly outdares his senseless Sword,

And when it bows, ftands up.]

Even

The fine and easy Emendation of this Passage, which I have Inserted in the Text, is owing to the ingenious Ds. Thirlby. (6) Thou waft a Soldier

Even to Calvus' Wish;]

T. Lartins is here fumming up his Friend's Chara&er, 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 wish'd these three Characteristicks in a Soldier? I'm afraid, Greek and Roman Hiftory will be at a Lofs to account for fuch a Man and fuch Circumftances join'd to fignalize him. I formerly amended the Paffage, and prov'd that the Poet muft have wrote,

Even to Cato's Wifh3

Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
Only in ftroaks, but with thy grim looks, and
The thunder-like percuffion of thy founds,

Thou mad'it thine enemies shake, as if the world
Were feaverous, 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.

[Alarum continues fill afar off.

Enter Marcius and Titus Lartius, with a Trumpet. Mar. See here these Movers, that do prize their ho

nours

At a crack'd drachm: cufhions, leaden fpoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base flaves,
Ere

yet the fight be done, pack up; down with them s

The Error probably arose from the Similitude in the Manufcript of to to lv: and so this unknown Wight Calvus sprung up. I come now to the Authorities for my Emendation. Plutarch, in the Life of Coriolanus, fpeaking of this Hero, fays; He was a Man (that which CATO requir'd in a Warrior) not only dreadful to meet with in the Field, by reason of his Hand and Stroke; but insupportable to an Enemy, for the very Tone and Accent of his Voice: and the fole Terror of his Aspect. This again is confirm'd by the Hiftorian, in the Life of Marcus C ATO the Cenfor. In Engagements (fays He;) he would ufe to frike luftily, with a fierce Countenance ftare upon his Enemies, and with a harm threatning Voice accost them. Nor was he out of his Opinion, whilst he taught, that such rugged kind of Behaviour fometimes does ftrike the Enemy more than the Sword it felf.

And

611

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 exercise hath been too violent
For a fecond course of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not :

My work hath yet not warm'd me. Fare you well
The blood, I drop, is rather phyfical

Than dangerous to me.

T' Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight.

Lart. Now the fair Goddess Fortune

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

Mar. Thy friend no less,

Than those the placeth higheft! fo, farewel.
Lart. Thou worthiest 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.

SCENE changes to the Roman Camp.

Com.

Enter Cominius retreating, with Soldiers.

B

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

Like Romans, neither foolish in our Stands,

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 Messenger.

Mef. The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartiu: 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 fpeak'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 couldft thou in a mile confound an hour,

And bring the news fo late?

Mef. Spies of the Volcians

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

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,

(7) Oh! let me clip ye

In Arms as found, as when I woo'd in heart : Dr. Thirlby advised 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.

And