On this page
-
Text (1)
-
Untitled Article
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
-
-
Transcript
-
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Untitled Article
How expressive are the words ' cloven army ! ' They bring before us , not only the broken ranks , but the plated warriors , and the short axe-like swords , which were alone fitted to hew through the steel helmet and cuirass , and where they could not pierce could still bruise and break bones . Every wound was a cloven 6 trenched gash /
The Volscian troops now march in , and Marcius , at the head of the Romans , attacks them , driving them out . The Romans are then once more beaten back to their trenches , and Marcius is the last to retire . His great heart is ready to burst with indignation , and ere he has time to breathe freely , he withers the Hying soldiers with his half-scornful , half-threatening words , till the access of shame warms once more their abated courage
His voice is half choked with conflicting emotions as he proceeds , 4 All the contagion of the south light on you , You shames of Rome ! you herd of—boils and plagues Plaster you o ' er ; that you may be abhorred Further than seen , and one infect the other Against the wind a mile ! You souls of geese , That bear the shapes of men , how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat ! Pluto and hell ! All hurt behind ; backs red , and faces pale With flight and agued fear ! Mend , and charge home Or , by the fires of heaven , I'll leave the foe , And make my wars on you : look to ' t : Come on ; If you'll stand fast , we'll beat them to their wives , As they us to our trenches followed /
Had the Duke of Wellington made this speech to his soldiers in Spain , they might very fairly have replied through the month of one of those who broke biscuit for his grace ' s hounds : 4 You don ' t spare scurvy names on us , general , yet you do but waste your breath , for we are not going to be humbugged . It is true , that , in consequence of being nearly starved in England , we did agree to serve as soldiers , in consideration of some bounty-money , which the recruiting
Serjeant stole from us , after making us drunk , and one shilling per day , deducting from the amount of it our food and clothing . . But we expected to have enough to eat , at any rate ; yet we find ourselves worse off than your dogs , glad to eat the crumbs which fall from their jaws . Now you should know , if you know any thing , that whenever a man is hired at so much a day instead of being paid by the piece , he
always tries to do as little as he can in the day , because that makes his wa ^ es so muc h higher , as lie must be paid double for working harder . It 18 very easy for you to say you'll shoot us if we don ' t mount that yawning breach of Badajos yonder , which if we do mount we shall be sure to be killed or made cripples for life , while you look at us snugly ensconced beneath the shelter of the trendies ; but we should like to see
you try the experiment yourself . The last time we made the attempt , the shot from our own batteries , intended to clear the breach over our he ; uls , killed more of us than of th « enemy . No , no ; though we were
Untitled Article
Coriolanus no Aristocrat . 131
-
-
Citation
-
Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 2, 1834, page 131, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2630/page/47/
-