I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on!

Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death;
But dare all imminence, that gods and men,
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who shan tell Priam so, or Hecuba?

Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and say there-Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away:
Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
Stay yet;-You vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you!-And thou, great-siz'd coward!

No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.-
Strike a free march to Troy!—with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

[Exeunt ENEAS and Trojans

As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS.

Pan. But hear you, hear you!

Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame

Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!

[Exit TROILUS

Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching nones!O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a' work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so loved, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it?-Let me see:

Full merrily the humble-Lee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his honey, and his sting:
And being once subdued in armed tail,

Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.-
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths

As

many as be here of pander's hall,

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:
Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my fear is this,-
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss:
Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases;
And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases.

[Exit

CORIOLANUS.

CORIOLANUS.] This play I conjecture to have been written in the year 1609. See An Attempt to ascertain the Order of Shakespeare's Plays, Vol. II.

It comprehends a period of about four years, commencing with the secession to the Mons Sacer in the year of Rome 262, and ending with the death of Coriolanus, A. U. C. 266.

MALONE

The whole history is exactly followed, and many of the principal speeches exactly copied, from the Life of Coriolanus in Plutarch.

POPE.