Com. So, to our tent: Lart. 2 I shall, my lord. Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg my lord general. Of Take it: 'tis yours.—What is't? Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli, At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly: And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you 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. I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.- Com. By Jupiter, forgot: Go we to our tent: The blood upon your visage dries: 'tis time [Exeunt. to illustrate this honourable distinction you have conferred on me by fresh deservings to the extent of my power. To undercrest, I should guess, signifies properly, to wear beneath the crest as a part of a coat of arms. The name or title now given seems to be considered as the crest; the promised future achievements as the future additions to that coat. HEATH. 1 The best,] The chief men of Corioli. with whom we may articulate,] i. e, enter into articles. A Flourish. SCENE X. The Camp of the Volces. 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, I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, (True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some way;3 Or wrath, or craft, may get him, 1 Sol. He's the devil. Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: My valour's poison'd, With only suffering stain by him; for him 3 - I'll potch at him some way;] Mr. Heath reads-poach but potch, to which the objection is made as no English word, is used in the midland counties for a rough, violent push. for him Shall fly out of itself:] To mischief him, my valour should degiate from its own native generosity. JOHNSON, Embarquements all of fury," shall lift up 8 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 I may spur on my journey. 1 Sol. I shall, sir. [Exeunt. 5 nor sleep, nor sanctuary, &c. Embarquements all of fury, &c.] The word, in the old copy, is spelt embarquements, and, as Cotgrave says, meant not only an embarkation, but an embargoing. The rotten privilege and custom that follow, seem to favour this explanation, and therefore the old reading may well enough stand, as an embargo is undoubtedly an impediment. STEEVENS. At home, upon my brother's guard,] In my own house, with my brother posted to protect him. 8 7 attended ] i. e. waited for. (Tis south the city mills,)] Mr. Tyrwhitt would read for mills, a mile, but Mr. Steevens observes that Shakspeare is seldom careful about such little improprieties. Coriolanus speaks of our divines, and Menenius of graves in the holy churchyard. It is said afterwards, that Coriolanus talks like a knell; and drums, and Hob, and Dick, are with as little attentionto time or place, introduced in this tragedy. ACT II. SCENE I. Rome. A Publick Place. Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS. Men. 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, Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you. Both Trib. Well, sir. Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance? Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. Sic. Especially, in pride. Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is strange now: Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the right hand file? Do you? Both Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry? Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well. Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud? Bru. We do it not alone, sir. Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infantlike, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: 0, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could! Bru, What then, sir? Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, (alias, fools,) as any in Rome. Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tyber in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinder-like, upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night,' than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter; and spend my malice in my breath: Meeting two such weals-men as you are, (I cannot call you Lycurguses) if the drink you gave me, touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say, your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and though I must be content 9 towards the napes of your necks,] With allusion to the fable, which says, that every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him, in which he stows his own. JOHNSON. 1 one that converses more, &c.] Rather a late lier down than an early riser. JOHNSON,` |