This Athens nurseth arts as well as arms.

Soph. Nor glory, Martius, in this day of thine! 'Tis behind yesterday, but before to-morrow; Who knows what Fortune then will do with thee? She never yet could make the better man, The better chance she has: The man that's best She still contends with, and doth favour least.

Mar. Methinks, a graver thunder than the skies Breaks from his lips: I am amazed to hear; And Athens' words, more than her swords, do fear. [Aside.

Slave Sophocles

Soph. Martius,' couldst thou acquire

Soph. Martius, slave Sophocles, couldst thou acquire.] A transposition here has rendered this absolute darkness. Martius being struck with admiration at Sophocles's intrepidity, is resolved to put it to a farther trial by scoffs and insults; he therefore begins with calling him slave, as the answer evidently shews. There is therefore scarce doubt of the true reading being as the text is now reformed, making the first part of the speech spoke aside, and then, Slave Sophocles.

Soph. Martius, couldst thou acquire, &c.

But there is, I believe, a great corruption still remaining in the word acquire, to acquire to gather is bad English; besides, as the sentence stands, the acquisition precedes the prayers. 'Tis therefore most probable that the true word is aspire, which seems clear of all objections.-Seward.

Acquire is, in our opinion, preferable.-Ed. 1778.

Seward's transposition is self-evident, but there can be no objection to the word acquire. Mason wishes to retain this word, but to make two trifling alterations, reading wouldst thou in the first line of the speech, and together in the fourth. But the present text is no more involved than many other passages in these plays. In the folios, the second and third lines are inclosed in parentheses, which, though they cannot be retained, prove the propriety of the text. The meaning may be thus explained with little alteration of the words" Couldst thou acquire, by prayers to thy Roman gods, and did they love thy prayers and solemn sacrifice, so as to grant thy suit, to gather all the valour of the Cæsars thy predecessors, as well as successors, and to fling it on thee collectively, thou couldst," &c.

And did thy Roman gods so love thy prayers
And solemn sacrifice, to grant thy suit
To gather all the valour of the Cæsars
Thy predecessors, and what is to come,
And by their influence fling it on thee now,
Thou couldst not make my mind go less, not pare
With all their swords one virtue from my soul:
How am I vassal'd then? make such thy slaves,
As dare not keep their goodness past their graves.
Know, general, we two are chances on

The die of Fate; now thrown, thy six is up,
And my poor one beneath thee; next, thy throw
May set me upmost, and cast thee below.
Mar. Yet will I try thee more: Calamity
[Aside.
Is man's true touchstone.Listen, insolent prince,
That darest contemn the master of thy life,
Which I will force here 'fore thy city-walls
With barbarous cruelty, and call thy wife
To see it, and then after send her

Soph. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. And then demolish Athens to the ground, Depopulate her, fright away her fame,

And leave succession neither stone nor name.
Soph. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Dost thou deride me?

Val. Kneel! ask Martius

For mercy, Sophocles, and live happy still!
Soph. Kneel, and ask mercy? Roman, art a god?
I never kneel'd, or begg'd, of any else.
Thou art a fool! and I will lose no more
Instructions on thee, now I find thy ears
Are foolish, like thy tongue.

[Solemn music.

Go less.] That is, become less, be valued at less.

Enter DORIGEN, Ladies bearing a Sword.

Oh, must she see me bound?

1 Capt. There's the first sigh

My Dorigen!

He breathed since he was born, I think.

2 Capt. Forbear,

All but the lady his wife!

Soph. How my heart chides

The manacles of my hands, that let them not
Embrace my Dorigen!

Val. Turn but thy face,

And ask thy life of Martius thus, and thou,
With thy fair wife, shalt live; Athens shall stand,
And all her privileges augmented be.

Soph. "Twere better Athens perish'd, and my wife (Which, Romans, I do know a worthy one,) Than Sophocles should shrink of Sophocles, Commit prophane idolatry, by giving

The reverence due to gods to thee, blown man! Mar. Rough, stubborn cynic!

Soph. Thou art rougher far,

And of a coarser wale,3 fuller of pride,
Less temperate to bear prosperity.

Thou seest my mere neglect hath raised in thee
A storm more boist'rous than the ocean's;
My virtue, Patience, makes thee vicious.

Mar. Why, fair-eyed lady, do you kneel?
Dor. Great general,

Victorious, godlike Martius, your poor handmaid
Kneels, for her husband will not, cannot; speaks
Thus humbly, that he may not. Listen, Roman!
Thou whose advanced front doth speak thee Roman
To every nation, and whose deeds assure it!

3 Wale.] Web, Sax.

Behold a princess, whose declining head,
Like to a drooping lily after storms,

Bows to thy feet, and playing here the slave,
To keep her husband's greatness unabated;
All which doth make thy conquest greater! For,
If he be base in aught whom thou hast taken,
Then Martius hath but taken a base prize:
But if this jewel hold lustre and value,
Martius is richer then in that he hath won.
Oh, make him such a captive as thyself
Unto another wouldst, great captain, be!
Till then, he is no prisoner fit for thee.

Mar. Valerius, here is harmony would have brought

Old crabbed Saturn to sweet sleep, when Jove
Did first incense him with rebellion!
Athens doth make women philosophers;
And sure their children chat the talk of gods.
Val. Rise, beauteous Dorigen!

Dor. Not until I know
The general's resolution.

Val. One soft word

From Sophocles would calm him into tears,
Like gentle showers after tempestuous winds.
Dor. To buy the world he will not give a word,
A look, a tear, a knee, 'gainst his own judgment,
And the divine composure of his mind :

All which I therefore do; and here present
This victor's wreath, this rich Athenian sword,
Trophies of conquest, which, great Martius, wear,
And be appeased! Let Sophocles still live!
Mar. He would not live.

Dor. He would not beg to live :
When he shall so forget, then I begin
To command, Martius; and when he kneels,
Dorigen stands; when he lets fall a tear,
I dry mine eyes, and scorn him.

Mar. Scorn him now then,

Here in the face of Athens and thy friends!-
Self-will'd, stiff Sophocles, prepare to die,
And by that sword thy lady honoured me,
With which herself shall follow.-Romans, friends,
Who dares but strike this stroke, shall part with me
Half Athens, and my half of victory.

Capt. By Heaven, not we!

Nic. Corn. We two will do it, sir.
Soph. Away, ye fish-faced rascals!
Val. Martius,

To eclipse this great eclipse labours thy fame ;↑
Valerius thy brother shall for once

Turn executioner: Give me the sword.-
Now, Sophocles, I'll strike as suddenly
As thou darest die.

Soph. Thou canst not! and, Valerius,
'Tis less dishonour to thee thus to kill me,
Than bid me kneel to Martius: "Tis to murder
The fame of living men," when great ones do

To eclipse this great eclipse labours thy fame.] This is so obscure, that many readers may think it requires an explication. The sense seems to be-Sophocles whilst he lives will be a great eclipse to thy fame, and thy fame is now labouring to eclipse him in thy turn, therefore thy brother shall be his executioner.-Seward.

A more plausible explanation is given by Mason in the following words:" Martius, to dispel this great eclipse, which obscures thy fame, I, thy brother, will [for once] act the part of an executioner."

The fame of living men, which great ones do;

Their studies strangle, poison makes away,

The wretched hangman only ends the play.] Though false pointings have rendered this quite dark, yet if the printers have not made some mistake that I cannot discover, the poet himself was very obscure, and however proper the sentiment, 'tis certainly ill expressed. By making the first part of the sentence end at strangle, the following sense may be deduced from it: To make