That brought you forth this Boy, to keep your name Living to time. Boy. He fhall not tread on me : I'll run away till I'm bigger, but then I'll fight. Vol. Nay, go not from us thus: If it were fo, that our requeft did tend The Volfcians whom you ferve, you might condemn us, Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volfcians May fay, This mercy we have fhew'd; the Romans, Which thou fhalt thereby reap, is fuch a Name, To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'th' air, (28) And yet to change thy Sulphur with a Bolt, That should but rive an Oake.] All the printed Copies concur in this Reading, but I have certainly reftor'd the true Word. Vid. the 11th Note on this Play. Perhaps, Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more When the, (poor hen) fond of no fecond brood, To a mother's part belongs. Thou art not honeft, and the Gods will plague thee, Like him by chance; yet give us our dispatch: And then I'll fpeak a little. Cor. O mother, mother! [Holds her by the hands, filent. (29) This Fellow had a Volfcian to his Mother; His Wife is in Corioli; and his Child Like him by Chance ; ] But tho' his Wife was in Corioli, might not his Child, nevertheless, be like him! The minute Alteration I have made, I am perfwaded, restores the true Reading. Volumnia would hint, that Coriolanus by his ftern Behaviour had loft all Family-Regards, and did not remember that he had any Child. I am not his Mother, (fays fhe) his Wife is in Corioli, and this Child, whom We bring with us, (young Marcius) is not his Child, but only bears his Refemblance by chance. What What have But for your fon, believe it, oh, believe it, Cor: I dare be fworn, you were; Mine eyes to fweat Compaffion. But, good Sir, Auf. I'm glad, thou'ft fet thy mercy and thy ho nour At difference in thee; out of That I'll work · [Afide. Cor. Ay, by and by; but we will drink together; And you fhall bear [To Vol. Virg. &c. A better witness back than words, which we, [Exeunt. SCENE Men. SCENE, the Forum, in ROM E. Enter Menenius and Sicinius. EE you yond coin o'th' Capitol, yond cornerftone? Sic. Why, what of that? Men. If it be poffible for you to difplace it with your little finger, there is fome hope the Ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, Í fay, there is no hope in't; our throats are fentenc'd, and ftay upon execution. Sic. Is't poffible, that fo fhort a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is difference between a grub and a butterfly, yet your butterfly was a grub; this Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings, he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He lov'd his mother dearly. Men. So did he me; and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight years old horfe. The tartnefs of his face fours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground fhrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corflet with his eye: talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He fits in his State, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a God, but Eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark, what mercy his mother fhall bring from him; there is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tyger; that shall our poor City find; and all this is long of you. Sic. The Gods be good unto us! U Men. Men. No, in fuch a cafe the Gods will not be good unto us. When we banish'd him, we refpected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. Enter a Meffenger. Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your life, fly to your house; The Plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, And hale him up and down; All fwearing, if The Roman Ladies bring not comfort home, They'll give him death by inches. Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the news? Mej. Good news, good news, the Ladies have pre The Volfcians are diflodg'd, and Marcius gone: Sic. Friend, Art certain, this is true? is it most certain ? you; [Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together. The trumpets, fackbuts, pfalteries and fifes, Tabors and cymbals, and the fhouting Romans Men. This is good news : [A fhout within. I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia A Sea and Land full. You've pray'd well to day : |