He dies to night.

Men. Now the good Gods forbid,

That our renowned Rome, whofe gratitude
Tow'rds her deferving children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a difease that must be cut away.
Men. Oh, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, eafie.

What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies, the blood he hath loft
(Which I dare vouch, is more than That he hath,
By many an ounce) he dropt it for his Country:
And what is left, to lofe it by his Country,
Were to us all that do't, and suffer it,

A brand to th' end o'th' world.

Sic. This is clean kamme.

Bru. Meerly awry: when he did love his Country, It honour'd him.

Men. The fervice of the foot

-Being once gangreen'd, it is not then respected
For what before it was

Bru. We'll hear no more.

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Left his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word:

This tiger-footed rage, when it fball find

The harm of unskann'd fwiftnefs, will (too late)
Tye leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process,
Left Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,
And fack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If'twere fo

Sic. What do ye talk?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience,
Our Ediles fmote, our felves refifted? come-
Men. Confider this; he hath been bred i'th' wars
Since he could draw a fword, and is ill-school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
VOL. VI.

S

I'll

I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he fhall anfwer by a lawful form,
In peace, to his utmost peril.

1 Sen. Noble Tribunes,

It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer.
Mafters, lay down your weapons.

Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the forum; we'll attend you there, Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed In our first way.

Men. I'll bring him to you.

Let me defire your company; he must come,
Or what is worft will follow.

1 Sen. Pray, let's to him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to CORIOLANUS's Houfe. Enter Coriolanus, with Nobles.

Cor.

L

ET them pull all about mine ears, prefent me
Death on the wheel, or at wild horfes' heels,

Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian Rock,
That the precipitation might down ftretch
Below the beam of fight, yet will I ftill
Be thus to them.

Enter Volumnia.

Nobl. You do the nobler.

Cor. I mufe, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vaffals, things created
To buy and fell with groats; to fhew bare heads
In congregations, yawn, be ftill, and wonder,
When one but of my Ordinance ftood up
To fpeak of Peace or War; (I talk of you)
Why did you wish me milder ? wou'd you have me
Falfe to my nature? rather fay, I play

The

The man I am!

Vol. Oh, Sir, Sir, Sir,

I would have had you put your Power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let it go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you are, With ftriving less to be fo. Leffer had been (16) The Thwartings of your difpofitions, if

You had not fhew'd them how you were difpos'd
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter Menenius, with the Senators.

Men. Come, come, you've been too rough, fome

thing too rough:

You must return, and mend it.

Sen. There's no remedy,
Unless, by not fo doing, our good City
Cleave in the midft, and perish.

Vol. Pray, be counsell'd;

I have a heart as little apt as yours,

But yet a brain that leads my use of anger

To better vantage.

Men. Well faid, noble woman:

(17) Before he should thus ftoop to th' Herd, but that

(16)

-Leffer had been

The Things that thwart your Dispositions,]

The old Copies exhibit it,

The Things of your Difpofitions

The

A few Letters replac'd, that by fome Carelessness drop'd out, reftore us the Poet's genuine Reading;

The Thwartings of your Difpofitions.

(17) Before he thus should stoop to th' Heart,

-] But how

did Coriolanus ftoop to his Heart? he rather, as we vulgarly exprefs it, made his proud Heart ftoop to the Neceffity of the Times. I am perfuaded, my Emendation gives the true Reading. So, before, in this Play;

Are these your Herd?

The violent fit o'th' times craves it as phyfick
For the whole State, I'd put mine armour on,
Which I can fcarcely bear.

Cor. What muft I do ?

Men. Return to th' Tribunes.

Cor. Well, what then? what then?
Men. Repent what you have spoke.

Cor. For them? - I cannot do it for the Gods,
Muft I then do't to them?

Vol. You are too abfolute,

Tho' therein you can never be too noble,

But when Extremities fpeak. I've heard you fay,
Honour and policy, like unfever'd Friends,

I'th' war do grow together: grant That, and tell me
In peace, what each of them by th' other loses,
That they combine not there?

Cor. Tufh, tufh

Men. A good demand.

Vol. If it be honour in your wars, to feem
The fame you are not, which for your best ends
You call your policy: how is't lefs, or worse,
That it fhall hold companionfhip in peace
With Honour, as in War; fince that to both
It ftands in like rèqueft?

Cor. Why force you this?

Vol. Because it lies on you to speak to th' People:
Not by your own inftruction, nor by th' matter

Which your heart prompts you to, but with fuch wodrs
But roated in your tongue; baftards, and fyllables
Of no allowance, to your bofom's truth.

Now, this no more dishonours you at all,
Than to take in a Town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune, and
The hazard of much blood.

I would diffemble with my nature, where
My fortunes, and my friends, at stake requir'd,

. So, in Julius Cæfar z

When he perceiv'd, the common Herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, &c.

And in many other Passages.

I fhould

I fhould do fo in honour. (18) I am in this
Your Wife, your Son, these Senators, the Nobles.
And you will rather fhew our general lowts
How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of their loves, and fafeguard
Of what that Want might ruin!

Men. Noble Lady!

Come, go with us, fpeak fair: you may falve fo
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is paft.

Vol. I pr'ythee now, my Son,

Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand,

And thus far having stretch'd it (here be with them)
Thy knee buffing the ftones;
Action is eloquence, and the
More learned than the ears ;)

(18)

(for in fuch business
eyes of th' ignorant
(19) waving thy head,

I'm in this

Tour Wife, your Son: the Senators the Nobles,

And You, &c.] The Pointing of the printed Copies makes ftark Nonsense of this Paffage. Volumnia is perfuading Coriolanus that he ought to flatter the People, as the general Fortune was at Stake; and fays, that, in this Advice, She speaks as his Wife, as his Son; as the Senate, and Body of the Patricians; who were in fome Measure link'd to his Condu&t. Mr. Warburton

waving thy Head,

(19) Which often, thus, correcting thy stout Heart.] But do any of the Ancient, or Modern Mafters of Elocution prescribe the waving the Head, when they treat of Action? Or how does the waving the Head correct the Stoutness of the Heart, or evidence Humility? Or laftly, where is the Sense or Grammar of these Words, Which often thus, &c These Questions are sufficient to fhew the abfurd Corruption of these Lines. I would read therefore;

waving thy Hand,

Which soften thus, correcting thy ftout Heart; This is a very proper Precept of Action fuiting the Occafion; Wave thy Hand, fays She, and foften the Action of it thus, then ftrike upon thy Breast, and by that Action shew he People thou haft corrected thy ftout Heart. All here is fine and proper. Mr. Warburton:

S 3

Which