Than pity note how much.----Therefore, be gone; Mine ears against your fuits are ftronger than Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, Take this along; I writ it for thy fake, [Gives him a Letter. And would have fent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.-----This man, Aufidius, Was my beloved in Rome; yet thou behold'st--Auf. You keep a conftant temper. [Exeunt. Manent the Guard, and MENENIUS. 1 Watch. Now, Sir, is your name Menenius? 2 Watch. 'Tis a fpell, you fee, of much power: you know the way home again. 1 Watch. Do you hear how we are fhent for keeping your greatnefs 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 scarce 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 encrease with your age! I fay to you, as I was faid to, away !---- [Exit. Than pity: note how much-] We cannot defire a more fignal inftance of the indolent flupidity of our editors. Forgetfulness might pofon in not remembering a converfation of friendship; but how could it, in fuch an action, be faid to pity too? The pointing is abfurd, and the fentiment confequently funk into nonfenfe. As I have regulated the ftops, both Dr Thirlby and Mr Warburton faw with me, they ought to be regulated. I have ftill ventured beyond my ingenious friends, in changing poifon into prison, which adds an antithefis, by which the fenfe feems clearer and more natural, viz. that forgetfulness fhall rather keep it a fecret that we have been familiar, than pity fhall difclofe how much we have been fo. 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-shaken. [Exeunt Watch. Re-enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Set down our hoft. My partner in this action, You must report to th' Volfcian Lords how plainly I've borne this bufineis. Auf. Only their ends you have respected; stop'd Your ears against the general fuit of Rome: Never admitted private whisper, no, Not with fuch friends that thought them fure of Cor. This laft old man, [you. Enter VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, VALERIA, young MAR- My wife comes foremost, then the honoured mould Let it be virtuous, to be obftinate. What is that curt'fy worth? or those dove's eyes, In fupplication nod; and my young boy Great Nature cries,---- Deny not. Let the Volfcians And knew no other kin. Virg. My Lord and husband! Cor. Thofe eyes are not the fame I wore in Rome. Virg. The forrow, that delivers us thus changed, Makes you think so. Cor. Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, (39) -You gods! I pray, And the most n ble mother of the world An old corruption must have poffeffed this paffage, for two reafons. 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 employed in his devotions, no apology would be wanting for leaving his mother unfaluted. The Poet's intention was certainly this: Coriolanus, having been lavith in his tenderneffes and raptures to his wife, bethinks himself on the fudden, that his fonduefs to her had made him guilty of ill manners in the And the most noble mother of the world Of thy deep duty more impreffion fhew Vol. O ftand up blefs'd! [Kneels. Whilft with no fofter cufhion than the flint I kneel before thee, and unproperly [Kneels. Shew duty as mistaken all the while, Between the child and parent. Cor. What is this? neglect of his mother; and therefore correcting himself, 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 refined, though more masculine in Shakespeare's days; and therefore (notwithstanding the prefent fuppofed xaxopwvia) when he is moft ferious he frequently makes ufe of the word. A little after, in this very scene, Volumnia fays; yet here he lets me prate, Like one i' th' ftocks. King Joha If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy. Hamlet; And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Nor is it infrequent with him to employ the diminutive of this term: -But I prattle Something too wildly, and my father's precepts I do forget. Silence that fellow; - -I would he had fome caufe O my fweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I doat In mine own comfort. Tempel. Meaf. for Meaf. Othello. I amended the paffage in queftion, in the appendix to my Shakespeare Reftored, and Mr Pope has thought fit to cor rect it from thence, in his last edition. VOL. XI. T Your knees to me? to your corrected fon? What cannot be, flight work. I holp to frame thee. Do you know this Lady? The moon of Rome; chafte as the ificle, Shewing young Marcius. Which by th' interpretation of full time May fhew like all yourself. Cor. The god of foldiers, With the confent of fupreme Jove, inform prove To fhame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars Vol. Your knee, sirrah. Cor. That's my brave boy. Vol. Even he, your wife, this Lady, and myself, Are fuitors to you. Cor. 1 befeech you, peace: Or, if you'd afk, remember this before; The thing I have forfworn to grant may never Difmifs my foldiers, or capitulate Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not Your colder reafons. |