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Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius ; before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears : Death, that dark Spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; * Which being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.

S CE N E III. Trumpets sound. Enter Cominius the General, and

Titus Lartius; between them Coriolanus crown'd with an oaken garland, with Captains and soldiers, and a berald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli's gates, where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius, Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus !

[Sound. Flourish. All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus ! Cor. No more of this. It does offend

It does offend my heart. Pray, now, no more.

Com. Look, Sir, your mother,

Cor. Oh!
You have, I know, petition’d all the Gods
For my prosperity.

[Kneels.
Vol. Nay, my good soldier, up.
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
By deed-archieving honour newly nam'd ;
What is it? Coriolanus, must I call thee?
But oh, thy wife

Cor. 3 My gracious silence, hail !

? Which leing advanc'd, de- to proceed from reserve or ful

clines - ] Volunnia, in her lenness, but to be the effe&t of a boasting strain, says, that her virtuous mind poffeffing itself in fon, to kill his enemy, has no- peace. The exprellion is exthing to do but to lift his hand tremely sublime; and the sense up and let it fall.

of it conveys the finelt praise that i My gracisus filence, buil! ] can be given to a good woman. The epithet to silence thews it not

WARBURTON.

2

Would't

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Would'st thou have laugh’d, had I come coffin'd

home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? ah, my Dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack fons.

Men. Now the Gods crown thee!
Cor. And live you yet? O my sweet Lady, pardon.

[:10 Valeria. Vol. I know not where to turn. O welcome home; And welcome, General ! and y'are welcome all.

Men. A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep,
And I could laugh, I'm light and heavy. Wel-

come!
A curse begin at very root on's heart,
That is not glad to see thee.—You are three,
That Rome should dote on ; yet, by the faith of men,
We've some old crab-trees here at home, that will not
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, Warriors!
We call a nettle, but a nettle; and
The faults of fools, but folly,

Com. Ever right.
Cor. Menerius? Ever, ever.
Her. Give way there, and go on.

Cor. Your hand, and yours.
Ere in our own honse I do shade my head,
The good Patricians must be visited ;
From whom I have receiv'd not only Greetings,
- But, with them, Change of honours.

Vol. I have lived,
To see inherited my very wishes,

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4 But, with them, Change of cold the plain truth, and con

honours. ] So all the Edi- fessed that it communicated none tions read. But Mr. Theobald at all to him: However it has a has ventured (as he expreffes it) very good one in itself; and figto fubftitute, charge. For change, nifies variety of honours; as he thinks, is a very poor exp;ef- change of rayment, amongst the fon, and communicates but a very writers of ihat time, fignised He had better have variety of rajment.

WARB.

And

poor idea.

And the buildings of my fancy; only there's one thing

wanting, Which, I doubt nat, but our Rome will caft upon thee.

Cor. Know, good Mother, I Had rather be their servant in my way, Than fway with them in theirs. Com. On, to the Capitol. [Flourish. Cornets.

[Exeunt in State, as before.

SCENE

c N E IV. Brutus, and Sicinius, come forward. Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared

sights Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling nurse slñto a rapture lets her Baby cry, While she chats him ; the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clambring the walls to eye him. Stalls, bulks, win

dows, Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd With variable complexions; all agreeing In earnestness to see him; feld-shown Flamins Do press among the popular throngs, and puff To win a vulgar station; our veil'd dames • Commit the War of white and damask, in

s Into a rapture-) Rapture, We should read, a common term at that time used -the WARE of white ens for a fit, fimply. So, to be rap'd damakfignified, so be in a fit. WARB. i.e. the commodity, the mer. Commit sbe War of white chandise. WARBURTON. and damask, in

Has the commentator never Th.ir nicely gawded cheeks,-) heard of roses contending with This commixture of white and lillies for the empire of a lady's red could not, by any figure of cheek? The opposition of colours, speech, be called a war, because though not the commixturi, may it is the agreement and union of be called a war. the colours that make the beauty.

Their nicely gawded cheeks, to th’ wanton spoil
Of Pbæbus' burņing kisses; such a pother,
* As if that whatsoever God, who leads him,
Were Nily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.

Sic. On the sudden,
I warrant him Consul.

Bru. Then our Office may, During his Power, go sleep.

Sic. He cannot temp’rately transport his honours, 7 From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won.

Bru. In That there's comfort.

Sic. Doubt not,
The Commoners, for whom we stand, but they,
Upon their ancient malice, will forget,
With the least cause, these his new honours; which
That he will give, make I as little question
As he is proud to do’t.

Bru. I heard him swear,
Were he to stand for Consul, never would he
Appear i'th' market-place, nor on him put
The napless Vesture of Humility ;
Nor shewing, as the manner is, his wounds
To th' people, beg their stinking breaths.

Sic. 'Tis right.

Bru. It was his word. Oh, he would miss it, rather Than carry it, but by the suit o'th' Gentry, And the desire o'th' Nobles.

Sic. I wish no better,

As if that whatever God] 8 As he is PROUD to do't.) I That is, as if that God who leads should rather think the author him, what forver God he be. wrote PRONE : because the com7 From where he frould begin mon reading is scarce fense or

and end, — Perhaps it En lish. WARBURTON. should be read,

Proud to do, is the same as, From whire he should legin t'an froud of doing, very plain sense, end,

and

very common English. Vol. VI.

Than

Mm

Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
In execution.

Bru. 'Tis most like, he will.

Sic. It shall be to him then, as our good will's,
A sure destruction.

Bru. So it must fall out
To him, or our authorities. For an end,
We mult suggest the people, in what hatred
He still hath held them; that to's power he would
Have made them mules, silenc'd their Pleaders, and
Disproperty'd their freedoms, holding them,
In human action and capacity,
Of no more foul nor fitness for the world,
Than camels in their war; who have their provender
Only for bearing burthens, and sore blows
For sinking under them.

Sic. This, as you say, suggested
At some time, when his soaring insolence
Shall reach the people, which time shall not want,
If he be put upon't; and that's as easy,
As to set dogs on sheep, will be the fire
To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
Shall darken him for ever.

Enter a Messenger. Bru. What's the matter?

Mes. You're fent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought, That Marcius shall be Consul; I have seen The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind To hear him speak; the Matrons Aung their gloves, Ladies and Maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs, Upon him as he pass’d; the Nobles bended, As to Jove's Statue; and the Commons made A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts : I never saw the like. Bru. Let's co the Capitol,

And

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