General talk of Rome, Men. Good my friends, If have heard you your And of his friends there, it is Lots to Blanks, I Watch. Be it fo, go back: the virtue of your Name Is not here paffable. Men. I tell thee, fellow, Thy General is my lover: I have been The book of his good acts; whence men have read For I have ever verified my friends, (Of whom he's chief) with all the fize that verity I've tumbled paft the throw; and in his praise 1 Watch. Faith, Sir, if you had told as many lies inhis behalf, as you have utter'd words in your own, you should not pafs here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chaftly. Therefore, go back. Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember, my name is Menenius; always factionary of the Party of your Ge neral. 2 Watch. Howfoever you have been his liar, (as you fay, you have;) I am one that, telling true under him, muft fay, you cannot pafs. Therefore, go back. Men. Has he din'd, canft thou tell? for I would not speak with him 'till after dinner. I Watch. You are a Roman, are you ? Men. I am as thy General is. I Watch. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pufh'd out of your gates the very Defender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the eafie groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palfied interceffion of fuch a decay'd Dotard as you feem to be? can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with fuch weak breath as this? no, you are deceiv'd, therefore back to Rome, and prepare for your execution; you are condemn'd, our General has fworn you out of reprieve and par don. Men. Sirrah, if thy Captain knew I were here, he would use me with eitimation. I Watch. Come, my Captain knows you not. 1 Watch. My General cares not for you. Back, I fay, go; left I let forth your half pint of Blood, Back, that's the utmost of your Having, back. Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow, Enter Coriolanus, with Aufidius. Cor. What's the matter? Men. Now, you companion, I'll fay an errand for you; you fhall know now, that I am in eftimation; you fhall perceive, that a Jack-gardant cannot office me from my fon Coriolanus; guefs but my entertainment with him; if thou ftand'ft not i'th' ftaté of hanging, or of fome death more long in fpectatorship, and crueller in fuffering, behold now prefently, and fwoon for what's to come upon thee. The glori ous Gods fit in hourly fynod about thy particular profperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! Oh my fon, my fon! thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly mov'd to come to thee; but being affured, none but my felf could move thee, I have been blown out of our gates with fighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary Countrymen. The good Gods affwage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee —— Cor. Away! Men. How, away! ? Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are fervanted to others: though I owe My revenge properly, remiffion lyes In Volfcian breafts. That we have been familiar, (38) [Gives him a letter. And would have fent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, Manent the Guard, and Menenius. [Exeunt. I Watch. Now, Sir, is your name Menenius? 2 Watch. 'Tis a Spell, you fee, of much power: you know the way home again. I Watch. Do you hear, how we are fhent for keeping your Greatness back? 2 Watch. What caufe, do you think, I have to fwoon? Men. I neither care for the world, nor your General: for fuch things as you, I can fcarce think there's any, y'are fo flight. He, that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another: let your General do his worst. For you, be what you are, long; and your misery encreafe with your age! I fay to you, as I was faid to, Away! [Exit. 1 Watch. A noble fellow, I warrant him. 2 Watch. The worthy fellow is our General. He's the rock, the oak not to be wind-fhaken. [Ex. Watch. (38) That we have been familiar, We cannot defire a more fignal Inftance of the indolent Stupidity of our Editors. Forgetfulness might payfon, in not remembring a Converfation of Friendship, but how could it, in fuch an Action, be faid to pity too? The Pointing is abfurd; and the Sentiment confequently funk into Nonfense. As I have regulated the Stops, both Dr. Thirlby and Mr. War-' burton faw with me, they ought to be regulated. I have ftill ventur'd beyond my ingenious Friends, in changing Poyfon into Prifon: which adds an Antithefis, by which the Senfe feems clearer and more natural viz. That Forgetfulness fhall rather keep it a fecret, that we have been familiar; than Pity thall disclose how much we have been fo. Re-enter Re-enter Coriolanus and Aufidius. Cor. We will before the Walls of Rome to morrow Auf. Only their Ends you have respected; stopt Not with fuch friends that thought them fure of you. Whom with a crack'd heart I have fent to Rome, Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge [Shout within. Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow, In the fame time 'tis made? I will not Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Marcius, with Attendants all in Mourning. My wife comes foremost, then the honour'd mould Let it be virtuous, to be obftinate. What is that curt'fie worth? or thofe dove's eyes, In fupplication nod; and my young boy Great Nature cries, Deny not. Let the Volfcians. Plough Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never And knew no other kin. Virg. My lord and husband! Cor. These eyes are not the fame I wore in Rome. Virg. The forrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think fo. Cor. Like a dull Actor now, I have forgot my Part, and I am out, O a kifs Hath virgin'd it e'er fince. You Gods! I prate; (39) And the most noble Mother of the World And An old Corruption must have poffefs'd this Paffage, for two Reasons. In the first Place, whoever confults this Speech, will find, that He is talking fondly to his Wife, and not praying to the Gods at all. Secondly, if He were employ'd in his Devotions, no Apology would be wanting for leaving his Mother unfaluted. The Poet's Intention was certainly This. Coriolanus, having been lavish in his Tenderneffes and Raptures to his Wife, bethinks himself on the fudden, that his Fondnels to her had made him guilty of ill Manners in the Neglect of his Mother; and, therefore correcting himfelf upon Reflexion, cries; You Gods! I prate; Prate, 'tis true, is a Term now ill-founding to us, because it is taken only, as the Grammarians call it, in malam partem. Our Language was not fo refin'd, tho' more mafculine, in Shakespeare's days; and there fore (notwithstanding the prefent fuppos'd nanogavia,) when he is moft ferious, he frequently makes ufe of the Word. A little after, in this very Scene, Volumnia fays; - yet bere he lets me prate, Like One i'th Stocks. K. John. Hamlet. If I talk to him, with his innocent Prate And if thou prate of Mountains, let them throw Nor |