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you : but

And his old hate to you ; besides, forget not,
With what contempt he wore the humble weed;
How in his suit he scorn'd


Thinking upon his services, took from you
The apprehension of his present portance;
Which gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
After th' inveterate hate he bears to you.

Bru. Nay, lay a fault on us, your tribunes, that
We labour’d (no impediment between)
But that you must cast your

election on him.
Sic. Say, you chose him, more after our commandments
Than guided by your own affections ;
And that your minds, pre-occupied with what
You rather must do, than what you should do,
Made you against the grain to voice him consul.
Lay the fault on us.

Bru. Ay, spare us not: say we read lectures to you, How youngly he began to serve his country, How long continued ; and what ftock he springs of, The noble house of Marcius ; from whence came That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, Who after great Hoftilius, here was King: Of the fame house Publius and Quintus were, (22)

That (22) of the fame bouse Publius-] I have taken notice, in the course of these notes, of many anachronisms knowingly committed by our author : I cannot help observing, that he is guilty of more than one here, thro’ an inadvertence, and desire of copying Plutarcb at all hazards. This passage, as Mr. Pope rightly informs us, is directly. translated from that Greek biographer : but I'll tell Mr. Pope a piece of history, which, I dare say, he was no more aware of than our -author was. Plutarch, in the entrance of Coriolanus's life, tracing the origin of the Marcian family, blends his account not only with the anceftors, but the descendents of that great man: and Shakespeare in his hafte, (or perhaps, his inacquaintance with this particular point;) not attending to Plutarch's drift; but taking all the personsnamed to be Coriolanus's ancestors ; has strangely tripp'd in time, and make his tribuye talk of persons and things not then in being. For inftance, he is made to talk of cenfors: Now Coriolanus was kill'd in the year, after Rome built, 266: But no censors were ever created at Rome 'till 46 years after that period, in the year. 312. Again; here is mention not only.of.a cenfor, but of Cenforinus. Now Caius Marcius Rutilus, when he came a second time to that office, on account of,

That our best water brought by conduits hither.
And Cenforinus, darling of the people,
(And nobly nam'd so for twice being censor)
Was his


Sic. One thus descended,
That hath besides well in his person wrought,
To be fet high in place, we did commend
To your remembrances; but you have found,
Scaling his present bearing with his paft,
That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke
Your sudden approbation.

Bru. Say, you ne'er had don't,
(Harp on that fill) but by our putting on;
And presently, when you have drawn your number,
Repair to th' capitol.
All. We will so; almost all repent in their election.

[Exeunt Plebeianto
Bru. Let them go on :
This mutiny were better put in hazard,
Than ftay past doubt for greater :
If, as his nature is, he fall in rage
With their refusal, both observe and answer
The vantage of his anger.

Sic. To th'capitol, come;
We will be there before the stream o'th' people :
And this shall feem, as partly 'tis, their own,
Which we have goaded onward.

[Exeunt. the known law propounded by him, was dignified with that additional name, in the year ,487 But this was not ?till 220 years after Coriolanus's death. And then, again, here is mention of the Marcian waters being brought into Rome. But we have the pofitive testimony of Julius Frontinus, that they had no aquæduets at Rome 'till the year 441; and that the Marcian water was not introduced 'till the year 613 i So that the tribunes are made to talk of a fact 347 years later in time than the period of Coriolanus. I would not be supposed to found any merit on this discovery; much less, to be desirous of convicting my author of such miftakes ; -but I thought it proper to decline a charge of ignorance, that might have been laid at my door, bad I passed this affair over in silence. Mr. Pope, Pris plain, tho' he took the pains to add the conjectural line about Cenforinus, was not aware of this confusion in point of chronology, or of our author's innocent trespass, Non omnia poffumus omnesy,


SCENE, a publick Street in Rome.

Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius,

Titus Lartius, and other Senators.



Ullus Aufidius then had made new head ?

LartHe had, my and that it was, which caus'd Our swifter compofition.

Cor. So then the Volscians stand but as at first, Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road: Upon's again.

Com. They're worn, Lord consul, sog. That we shall hardly in our ages see Their banners wave again..

Cor. Saw you Aufidius?

Lart. On safe-guard he came to me, and did curfe:
Against the Volscians, for they had so vilely
Yielded the town; he is retir'd to Antium.

Cor. Spoke he of me?
Lart. He did, my Lord..
Cor. How?-what?

Lart. How often he had met you, sword to sword ::
That of all things upon the earth he hated
Your person most: that he would pawn his fortunes.
To hopelefs reftitution, so he might
Be cali'd your vanquisher.

Cor. At Antium lives he ? -
Lart. At Antium.

Cor. I wish, I had a cause to seek him there ;
To oppose his hatred fully-Welcome home.



Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Behold! these are the tribunes of the people,
The tongues o'th' common mouth: I do despise them ;
For they do prank them in authority
Against all noble fufferance.
Sic. Pass no further.
Cor. Hah!--what is that!
Bru. It will be dangerous to go on-no further.
Cor. What makes this change?
Men. The matter?
Com. Hath he not pass’d the nobles and the commons ?
Bru. Cominius, no.
Cor. Have I had childrens voices ?
Sen. Tribunes, give way; he shall to th' market-place.
Bru, The people are incens'd against him.

Sic. Stop,
Or all will fall in broi).
Cor. Are these


herd ? Must these have voices, that can yield them now, And straight disclaim their tongues? what are your offices i You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? Have you not set them on?

Men. Be calm, be calm.

Cor. It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot,
To curb the will of the nobility :
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule,
Nor ever will be rul'd.

Bru. Call't not a plot;
The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd;
Scandal'd the suppliants for the people; call'd them
Time-pleasers, Aatterers, foes to nobleness.

Cor. Why, this was known before.
Bru. Not to them all.
Cor. Have you inform’d them since?
Bru. How! I inform them!
Cor. You are like to do such business.
Bru. Not unlike, each way, to better yours.
Cor. Why then should I be consul? by yond clouds,



Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your fellow-tribune.

Sic. You shew too much of that,
For which the people ftir; if you will pass
To where you're bound, you must enquire your way
Which you are out of, with a gentler fpirit;
Or never be so noble as a consul,
Nor yoke with him for tribune.

Men. Let's be calm.

Com. The people are abus’d.--Set on ;--this paltring(23)
Becomes not Rome : nor has Coriolanus
Deserv'd this so difhonour'd rub, laid fallly
l'th' plain way of his merit.

Cor. Tell of corn n!
This was my speech, and I will speak't again

Men. Not now, not now.
Sen. Not in this beat, Sir, now.

Cor. Now as I live, I wille-

for my nobler friends, I crave their pardons :
But for the mutable rank-scented many,
Let them regard me, as I do not flatter,
And there behold themselves: I say again,
In foothing them, we nourisht 'gainst our Senate
The cockle of rebellion, infolence, fedition,
Which we ourselves have plow'd for, fow'd and scatterd,
By mingling them with us, the honour'd number:
Who lack not yirtue, no, nor power, but that
Which we have given to beggars.

Men. Well, no more.
Sen. No more words, we beseech you

Cor. How !--no more!
As for my country I have shed my blood,
Not fearing outward force; so fhall my lungs
Coin words 'till their decay, against those measles,

(23) The people are abus’d, set on;] This is pointed, as if the sense were, the people are set on by the tribunes : but I don't take that to be the poet's meaning. Cominius makes a fingle reflection, and then bids the train set forward, as again afterwards ;

Well, on to th' market-place.
And fo in Julius Cæfar;
Set on, and leave no ceremony out,

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