1 What deadlier sin infiames the human breast, Thy rankling wounds, not time itself can sooth; Disgusted he turned away-and proceeded on his journey toward Antium; where, entering the house of Tullus Aufidius, and placing himself beneath a statue of Jupiter, he remained with his face covered, and without speaking. There was something so commanding in his appearance, that the servants did not venture to disturb his meditations: but they informed their master of the singular visitor, who had entered his dwelling. Tullus who was en gaged with a large party at supper, made an apology to his friends, and went in search of this mysterious guest. Coriolanus, discovering himself, told him brief, the conduct he had experienced; and giving him the choice to receive him as a friend, or treat him as an enemy-threw open his breast, to meet his dagger's point, if such was his desire. Tullus, charmed with the frankness and noble spirit of Coriolanus, thus venturing himself in the power of an inveterate enemy-forgot all former hate; forgave that he had seven times been conquered by his mighty arm, and clasping him eagerly to his breast, conducted him in triumph to his guests -who received him as a god-and bowed to him with lowly devotion as to Mars himself. Tullus was preparing to invade the Roman territories; and Coriolanus, at the united request of himself and his friends, undertook to share the toils and danger with him. The name of Coriolanus, joined with their general, inspired the Volscians with a courage almost superhuman. They proceeded with fire and sword; and desolation marked their track. They moved but to conquer, and took spoils in abundance, in which Coriolanus, with his accustomed liberality, refused to partake. Victories innumerable were obtained, and horror and dismay spread through the Roman state. The security of the worthless tribunes was now ended; and the unhappy people, who had been deluded by their arts, turned upon them with rage. The city was in despair. Cries and lamentations were heard on every side. Sacrifices were made to the gods, but their prayers were not regarded; and after many days of anxiety, they at length heard that Coriolanus and Tullus Aufidius, with their victorious legions, were encamped within five miles of the city, even on the plains beneath that very hill, where the exiled Roman had breathed his vows of vengeance on his ungrateful countrymen. Too late they repented their errors. The patricians reviled the citizens, attributing to their injusice the ruin which threatened them. The plebeians how wished to recall him, and various messengers were deputed; but in vain: Coriolanus was deaf to every solicitation. His generals, whom he had ever been accustomed to revere, went first and were dismissed. Then Menenius whom he loved; and he was somewhat moved at the sight of the venerable friend who had watched him from his infancy, forgetful of his years and silvery beard, bending the knee before him, in humble supplication-but he turned his head away, and waved him thence The priests of the temples then went; but they were not more successful and now all hope seemed at an end; when the Lady Valeria (sister to the renowned Publicola, whose memory was dear to the Romans for the services he had done the state, and for his bewitching eloquence), with other Roman ladies, made application to Volumnia and Virgilia, proposing to go in solemn procession to the camp of the Volscians, and implore the mercy of Coriolanus. Volumnia, though scarcely indulging a hope of success, undertook the task; secretly resolving that should he refuse her petition, he should trample over her body in entering the gates of the city. Thus she could die for her country if she had not the power to save, and her eyes should never look upon its ruin and disgrace. Coriolanus unhappily seemed marked out for envy O vent its spleen upon. Aufidius soon became ealous of his power; and, notwithstanding the imortant services he had rendered to the Volscian cate, lamented the confederacy he had formed, and ough the advantage was all his own, he envied m that wonderful success which followed his chievements, and thought the honour attached to e name of this powerful Roman more to be valued aan all the possessions extended empires could beNor were there wanting discontented and alignant spirits, who fed the flame of his resentent, until it mounted into a blaze. He unbosomd himself to one of these base minded slaves, hose only business seems to be, on earth, to mar at happiness in others, which they are incapable f enjoying themselves. "Do my people still fly the Roman ?" inquired Tullus. Cow. I do not know what witchcraft's in him; but The cause which had excited enmity against Coolanus in Rome, did not exist in the present inance it was therefore envy alone. The soldiers oked upon him as a being of superior order, as a ing Made by some other deity than nature, That shapes man better.*** At d Aufidius could not bow to his greatness. st he had been surprised into friendsdip; but the ntiment was transient and he, with his officers, nspired to bring accusations against the exile, hich might secure his destruction, as soon as he had completed the victories he was now engaged in. Coriolanus, little supposing that the same envy, malice, and ingratitude, which had driven him from his native land, were secretly in force against him here, strengthened his own private feelings of resentment, by a high sense of honour towards the Volscians, whose cause he had espoused. The generals were sitting in council, when a loud shout was heard without; and, clothed in deep mourning, all the loftiest matrons and virgins of Rome advanced towards the throne where Coriolanus was seated. Last came the weeping Virgilia, and Volumnia leading her infant grandson in her hand, who, with his mother and grandmother, bowed his knees in mournful supplication. Coriolanus, whose reverence as a son, and tenderness as a husband and father, were only exceeded by his invincible courage, could not resist this appeal to his heart. He strove against his fealings; but the voice of nature prevailed for a time; and, darting from his seat, he raised his mother from the earth, and bent his knee to her; then raised his wife, and affectionately saluted her. -Oh, a kiss ! Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge He then lifted his young boy in the air, an gazed on him with delighted eagerness, exclaiming The god of soldiers, With the consent of supreme Jove, inform Thy thoughts with nobleness: that thou mayst prove Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, And saving those that eye thec. *** These bursts of involuntary tenderness having passed, he resumed his seat, and took upon him |