Puslapio vaizdai
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SCENE changes to Caius Marcius's Houfe in Rome.

Enter Volumnia and Virgilia; they fit down on two low ftools, and fow.

Vol.

I

Pray you, Daughter, fing, or express your felf in a more comfortable fort: if my Son were my Husband, I would freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would fhew most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only Son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when for a day of Kings' entreaties, a Mother should not fell him an hour from her beholding; I, confidering how Honour would become fuch a perfon, that it was no better than picture-like to hang by th' wall, if Renown made it not ftir, was pleas'd to let him feek Danger where he was like to find Fame: to a cruel war I fent him, from whence he return'd, his brows bound with Oak. I tell thee, Daughter, I sprang not more in joy at firft hearing he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved himself a Man. Vir. But had he died in the business, Madam; how then?

Vol. Then his good Report fhould have been my Son; I therein would have found iffue. Hear me profefs fincerely: had I a dozen Sons each in my love alike, and none lefs dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather eleven die nobly for their Country, than one voluptuously furfeit out of action.

Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to vifit you.
Vir. Befeech you, give me leave to retire my self.
Vol. Indeed, thou shalt not:

Methinks, L hither hear your Husband's Drum :
I fee him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair:

(As children from a bear) the Volfci fhunning him:

Methinks,

Methinks, I see him ftamp thus-and call thus -
Come on, ye cowards, ye were got in fear,
Though you were born in Rome; his bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes
Like to a harvest man, that's task'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

Vir. His bloody brow! oh, Jupiter, no blood! -
Vol. Away, you fool; it more becomes a man,
Than Gilt his trophy. The breast of Hecuba,
When she did fuckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood
At Grecian fwords contending; tell Valeria,
We are fit to bid her welcome.
[Exit Gent.
Vir. Heav'ns bless my Lord from fell Aufidius!
Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee,
And tread upon his neck.

Enter Valeria with an Ufher, and a Gentlewoman. Val. My Ladies Both, good day to you.

Vol. Sweet Madam

Vir. I am glad to fee your Ladyfhip

Val. How do you Both? you are manifest housekeepers. What are you fowing here? a fine spot, in good faith. How does your little Son?

Vir. I thank your Ladyfhip: well, good Madam. Vol. He had rather fee the fwords, and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmaster.

Val. O' my word, the Father's Son: I'll fwear, 'tis a very pretty Boy. O' my troth, I look'd on him o' Wednesday half an hour together-h'as such a confirm'd countenance. I faw him run after a gilded but terfly, and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; and caught it again; or whether his Fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did fo fet his teeth, and did tear it, oh, I warrant, how he mammockt it!

Vol. One of's Father's moods.

Val. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble Child.
Vir. A crack, Madam.

C

Val. Come, lay afide your Stitchery; I must have you play the idle hufwife with me this afternoon. Vir.. No, good Madam, I will not out of doors. Val. Not out of doors!

Vol. She fhall, fhe fhall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshold, 'till my Lord return from the wars.

Val. Fie, you confine your self most unreasonably: Come, you must go vifit the good Lady that lyes in. Vir. I will with her speedy ftrength, and vifit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither.

Vol. Why, I pray you

?

Vir. 'Tis not to fave labour, nor that I want love. Val. You would be another Penelope; yet they fay, all the yarn, she spun in Ulyffes's abfence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come, I would your cambrick were fenfible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you fhall go with us.

Vir. No, good Madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me, and I'll tell you excellent news of your Husband.

Vir. Oh, good Madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jeft with you; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, Madam

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a Senator speak it. Thus it is the Volfcians have an army forth, against whom Cominius the General is gone, with one part of our Roman Power. Your Lord and Titus Lartius are fet down before their City Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on my honour; and fo, I pray, go with

us.

Vir. Give me excufe, good Madam, I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, Lady; as fhe is now, fhe will but disease our better mirth.

Val. In troth, I think, fhe would: fare you well, then. Come, good fweet Lady. Pr'ythee, Virgilia, VOL. VI.

C

turn

turn thy Solemnness out o' door, and go along with us. Vir. No: at a word, Madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Walls of Corioli.

Enter Marcius, Titus Lartius, with Captains and Soldiers: To them a Messenger.

Mar.

Yonder

Onder comes news: a wager, they have met.
Lart. My horse to yours, no.

Mar. 'Tis done.

Lart. Agreed.

Mar. Say, has our General met the enemy?
Mef. They lye in view; but have not spoke as yet.
Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

Mar. I'll buy him of you.

Lart. No, I'll not fell, nor give him: lend him you, I will,

For half an hundred years: Summon the Town..
Mar. How far off lye these armies?
Mef. Within a mile and half.

Mar. Then fhall we hear their larum, and they ours. Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work; That we with fmoaking fwords may march from hence, To help our fielded Friends! Come, blow thy blast.

They found a Parley. Enter two Senators with others on the Walls.

Tullus Aufidius, is he within your Walls?

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I Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's leffer than a little: hark, our Drums [Drum afar off. Are bringing forth our Youth: we'll break our Walls, Rather than they shall pound us up; our Gates, Which yet seem fhut, we have but pinn'd with rushes; They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off

[Alarum far off.

There

There is Aufidius. Lift, what work he makes
Amongst your cloven army.

Mar. Oh, they are at it!

Lart. Their noise be our inftruction. Ladders, ho!

Enter the Volfcians.

Mar. They fear us not, but iffue forth their City. Now put your fhields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proof than fhields. Advance, brave Titus,

They do difdain us much beyond our thoughts; Which makes me fweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows;

He that retires, I'll take him for à Volfcian,

And he fhall feel mine edge.

[Alarum; the Romans beat back to their Trenches. Re-enter Marcius.

Mar. (5) All the Contagion of the South light on

you,

You fhames of Rome, you!-herds of boils and plagues
Plaister you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
Farther than feen, and one infect another

Against the wind a mile! you fouls of geefe,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From Slaves, that apes would beat? Pluto and Hell!
All hurt behind, backs red, and faces pale,

With flight, and agued fear! mend, and charge home,
Or by the fires of Heaven, I'll leave the Foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't, come on;

(5) All the Contagion of the South light on You,

You Shames of Rome; you Herds; of Boils and Plagues

Plaifter you d'er, &c.] Thus miferably did the old Editors give us this Paffage mangled, by bad Pointing; and Mr. Pope would not indulge his private Senfe, by any Alteration to make it intelligible. The meanest Judges of English muft be aware, that no Member of any Sentence can begin with a Genitive Cafe, and a preceding Nominative be wanting to govern That and the Verb. Where, therefore, is the Nominative to,

of Boils and Plagues plaifter you o'er? Or what Senfe or Syntax is there in the Paffage, as it here ftands? I reform'd the Pointing in the Appendix to my SHAKESPEARE Reftor'd, and Mr. Pope has vouchsafed to embrace my Correction in his laft Edition.

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