SCENE VIII.

A Field of Battle between the Roman and the Volcian Camps. Alarum. Enter MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS.

Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker.

Auf. We hate alike;

Not Africk owns a serpent, I abhor

More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.

Mar. Let the first budger die the other's slave, And the gods doom him after!

Auf. If I fly, Marcius,

Halloo me like a hare.

Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus,

Alone I fought in your

Corioli walls,

And made what work I pleas'd: 'Tis not my blood,
Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge,
Wrench up thy power to the highest.

Auf. Wert thou the Hector,

That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,"

Thou should'st not 'scape me here.

[They fight, and certain Volces come
to the aid of Aufidius.

Officious, and not valiant-you have sham'd me
In your condemned seconds."

[Exeunt, driven in by MARCIUS.

SCENE IX.

The Roman Camp. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish.
Enter at one side, COMINIUS, and Romans; at the other side,
MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.
Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou❜lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;
Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug,
I'the end, admire; where ladies shall be frighted

And, gladly quak'd,' hear more; where the dull tribunes,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
Shall say, against their hearts,-We thank the gods,
Our Rome hath such a soldier !—

Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,

[8] An anonymous correspondent justly observes, that these words mean, "the whip that your bragg'd progeny was possess'd of." MALONE.

[9] For condemned, we may read contemned. You have, to my shame sent me

help that I despise. JOHNSON.

[1] That is, thrown into a grateful trepidation.

STEEVENS.

Having fully din'd before.

Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his Power, from the pursuit. Lart. O general,

Here is the steed, we the caparison :*

Had'st thou beheld

Mar. Pray now, no more. My mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,3
When she does praise me, grieves me.

I have done as you have done; that's what I can :
Induc'd, as you have been; that's for my country:
He, that has but effected his good will,
Hath overta'en mine act.

Com. You shall not be

The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest: Therefore, I beseech you,
(In sign of what you are, not to reward

What you have done,) before our army hear me.
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remember'd.

Com. Should they not,*

Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,

And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store,) of all
The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,

We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at

Your only choice.

Mar. I thank you, general;

But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long flourish. They all cry, MARCIUS! MARCIUS! cast up their caps and lances:

stand bare.]

COMINIUS and LARTIUS

Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane, Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall

[2] This is an odd encomium. The meaning is, This man performed the action, and we only filled up the show. JOHNSON.

A privilege to praise her own son. JOHNSON.

141 That is, not be remembered. JOHNSON.

I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-fac'd soothing! When steel grows
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars !5-No more, I say;
For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
Or foil'd some debile wretch,-which, without note,
Here's many else have done,-you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I loved, my little should be dieted
In praises sauc'd with lies.

Com. Too modest are you;

More cruel to your good report, than grateful

To us that give you truly by your patience,

If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you
(Like one that means his proper harm,) in manacles,
Then reason safely with you.-Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.-

Bear the addition nobly ever!

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums.

All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !

Cor. I will go wash ;

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no : Howbeit, I thank you.-
I mean to stride your steed; and at all times,
To undercrest your good addition,

To the fairness of my power.

Com. So, to our tent :

Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success.-You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome

The best,' with whom we may articulate,
For their own good, and ours.

8

[5] It should be remembered, that the personal him, is not unfrequently used by our author, and other writers of his age, instead of it, the neuter; and that overture, in its musical sense, is not so ancient as the age of Shakespeare. STEEVENS. When steel grows soft as silk, let silk be suddenly converted to the use of war. Overture, was used by the writers of Shakespeare's time in the sense of prelude or preparation. MALONE.

[6] A phrase from heraldry, signifying, that he would endeavour to support his good opinion of him.Fairness for utmost. WARBURTON.

(7) The chief men of Corioli. JOHNSON.
[8] That is, enter into articles. STEEVENS.

Lart. I shall, my lord.

Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I that now
Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general.

Com. Take it 'tis your's. What is't?
Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli,
At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly:
He cry'd to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,

And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom.

Com. O, well begg'd!

Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free, as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?

Cor. By Jupiter, forgot :

I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.-
Have we no wine here ?

Com. Go we to our tent:

The blood upon your visage dries: 'tis time

It should be look'd to: come.

SCENE X.

The Camp of the Volces. A Flourish.

[Exeunt.

Cornets. Enter

TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.
Auf. Condition?-

I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Being a Volce, be that I am.-Condition!

What good condition can a treaty find

I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me ;
And would'st do so, I think, should we encounter

As often as we eat.-By the elements,

If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,

He is mine, or I am his.

Mine emulation

Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where

I thought to crush him in an equal force,

(True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some way ;7 Or wrath, or craft, may get him.

1 Sol. He's the devil.

[7] Potch, is used in the midland counties for a rough, violent push. STEEVENS. The modern word poke is only a hard pronunciation of this word.

MALONE.

Auf. Bolder, tho' not so subtle: My valour's poison'd,
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there
Against the hospitable canon, would I

Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;
Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must
Be hostages for Rome.

I

1 Sol. Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove ;*

pray you,

('Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it

may spur on my journey.

1 Sol. I shall,

sir.

АСТ II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE 1.-Rome. A public Place. Enter MENENIUS,
SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.
Menenius.

THE augurer tells me, we shall have news to-night.
Bru. Good, or bad ?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love ?*

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

You

Bru. He's a lamb indeed; that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. are two old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you. [1] To mischief him, my valour should deviate from its own native generosity.

[2] In my own house, with my brother posted to protect him. [3] Attended--that is, waited for. STEEVENS.

JOHNSON.
JOHNSON.

4 When the tribune, in reply to Menenius's remark, of the people's hate of Coriolanus, had observed that even beasts know their friends, Menenius asks, whom does the wolf love? implying that there are beasts which love nobody, and that among those beasts are the people. JOHNSON.

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