The way it takes, cracking ten thousand Curbs
Of more ftrong Links afunder, than can ever
Appear in your Impediment. For the Dearth,
The Gods, not the Patricians, make it; and
Your Knees to them, not arms, muft help. Alack,
You are tranfported by Calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you flander
The Helms o'th' State, who care for you like Fathers,
When you curfe them as Enemies.

2 Cit. Care for us!True, indeed!They ne'er car'd for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their Storehoutes cramm'd with grain; make Edicts for Ufury, to fupport Ufurers; repeal daily any wholefome Act established against the Rich, and provide more piercing Statutes daily to chain up and restrain the Poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confefs yourselves wond'rous malicious,

Or be accus'd of folly. I fhall tell you.

A pretty Tale, it may be, you have heard it ;
But, fince it ferves my purpose, I will venture
To fcale't a little more.

2 Cit. Well,

I'll hear it, Sir-yet you must not think

To fob off our difgraces with a Tale.

But, an't please you, deliver.

Men. There was a time, when all the body's members
Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it ;-
That only, like a Gulph, it did remain

I' th' midst o' th' body, idle and unactive,
Still cupboarding the Viand, never bearing

6

Like labour with the reft; where th' other inftruments
Did fee, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite, and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-

2 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly? Men. Sir, I fhall tell you.-With a kind of fmile, 7 Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus→→ (For, look you, I may make the belly fmile, As well as fpeak) it tauntingly reply'd

To th' difcontented Members, th' mutinous Parts,
That envied his receit; even so most fitly,
As you malign our Senators, for that
They are not fuch as you--

2 Cit. Your belly's anfwer-what!
The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
9 The counfellor heart, the arm our foldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter;
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabrick, if that they

Men. What then?-Fore me, this fellow fpeaks. What then? what then?

2 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, Who is the fink o' th' bodyMen. Well-what, then?

$ Difgraces are hardships, injuries.

• Where for whereas. 7. Which, ne'er came from the lungs,] With a mile not indicating pleasure but contempt

3-even so most fitly,) i. e. exactly. WARBURTON.

9 The counsellor heart,-] The heart was anciently eftemed the feat of prudence. Home cordatus is a prudent man.

2 Cit. The former Agents, if they did complain; What could the belly anfwer? Men. I will tell you,

If you'll beftow a fmall, of what you have little, Patience, a while; you'll hear the belly's answer. 2 Cit. Y'are long about it.

Men. Note me this, good Friend;
Your moft grave belly was deliberate,

Not rafh, like his accufers; and thus anfwer'd:
True is it, my incorporate Friends, quoth he,
That I receive the general food at firft,
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the ftore-houfe, and the fhop
Of the whole body. But, if you do remember,

I fend it through the rivers of

your blood,

Even to th' Court, the Heart, to th' feat o' th' brain. And, through the cranks and offices of man,

The ftrongest nerves, and fmall inferior veins,

From me receive that natural competency,
Whereby they live. And tho' that all at once,
You, my good Friends, (this fays the belly) mark

me

2 Cit. Ay, Sir, well, well.

Men. Though all at once cannot See what I do deliver out to each,

Yet I can make my audit up, that all

From me do back receive the flow'r of all,
And leave me but the bran. What fay you to't?
2 Cit. It was an anfwer. How apply you this?
Men. The Senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members; for examine
Their Counfels, and their Cares, digeft things rightly,
Touching the weal o'th' Common, you
fhall find,

No publick benefit, which you receive,

But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you,
And no way from yourfelves. What do You think?
You, the great toe of this Affembly?

2 Cit. I the great toe? why, the great toe?

Men.

Men. For that, being one o'th' lowest, basest, poorest,
Of this moft wife Rebellion, thou goeft foremost:
Thou rafcal, that art worft in blood to run,
Lead'ft first, to win fome 'vantage.

But make you ready your ftiff bats and clubs,
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle:
The one fide must have bale.

SCENE III.

Enter Caius Marcius Coriolanus.

Hail, noble Marcius!

Cor. Thanks. What's the matter, you diffentious

rogues,

That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves fcabs ?

2 Cit. We have ever your good word.

Cor. He that will give good words to thee, 'will flatter

Beneath abhorring. What would you have, ye Curs, That like not peace, nor war? The one affrights you,

The

they should not like peace (and the reafon of that, too is aflignedy will be very hard to conceive. Peace, he fays, made them proud, by bringing with it an increase of wealth and power, for those are what make a people proud; but then those are what they like but too well, and fo must needs like peace the parent of them. This being contrary to what the text fays, we may be affured it is corrupt, and that Shakespear wrote,

That LIKES NOT peace, non war?

i. e. Whom neither peace nor war fits or agrees with, as mak

The other makes you proud. He that trufts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares,
Where foxes, geefe; you are no furer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the Sun. Your virtue is,
To make him worthy, whofe offence fubdues him,
And curfe that juftice, did it. Who deferves Greatness,
Deferves your hate; and your affections are

A fick man's appetite, who defires moft That
Which would increase his evil. He, that depends
Upon your favours, fwims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye
Trust ye?

With every minute you
you do change a mind,

And call him noble, that was now your hate;
Him vile, that was your garland. What's the matter,
That in the several places of the city

You cry against the noble Senate, who,

Under the Gods, keep you in awe, which elfe

Would feed on one another?

What's their Seeking?

Men. For corn at their own rates, whereof, they lay,

The city is well ftor'd.

Cor. Hang 'em? they fay.

They'll fit by the fire, and prefume to know
What's done i' th' Capitol, who's like to rife ;

ing them either proud or coward ly. By this reading, peace and war, from being the accufatives to likes, become the nominatives. But the editors not understand. ing this construction, and feeing ikes a verb fingular, to Gurs a noun plural, which they fuppos'd the nominative to it, would, in order to fhew their skill in grammar, alter it to like; but ikes for pleajes was common with the writers of this time. So

Fletcher's Maid's Tragedy;

What look likes you beft? WAR.

That to like is to please, every one knows, but in that fense it is. as hard to fay why peace thould not like the people, as, in the other fenfe, why the people should not like peace. The truth is, that Coriolanus does not ufe the two fentences confequentially, but first reproaches them with-unfteadiness, then with their other occafional vices,

Who