Shakespeare's Tragedy of CoriolanusHarper & brothers, 1892 - 279 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
1st folio Antiates Antium Aufidius banishment battle blood Brutus Caius Marcius Capell carbonado Censorinus Citizen Clarke Coll Cominius command common conjectures consul contempt Coriolanus Corioli Cotgrave Cymb Delius Edile edition ellipsis enemies Enter envy Exeunt fear flatter folios read follow friends gates give gods Hanmer hate hath hear heart honour Johnson Julius Cæsar ladies Lear lord Macb malice Malone means Menenius Messenger mother nature never nobility noble noun passage Patricians peace play plebeians Plutarch Pope pray pride proud revenge Rich Roman Rome SCENE Schmidt Senate sense Servingman Shakespeare Shakspere Sicinius soldier speak speech stand Steevens quotes sword Tarpeian rock tell Temp thee Theo thing TITUS LARTIUS tongue tribunes trumpets unto Valeria valiant verb Virgilia voices Volsces Volscian Volumnia Warb wars wife word worthy yield
Popular passages
Page 151 - I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct ; but stand, As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin.
Page 248 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
Page 156 - O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome; But, for your son — believe it, O, believe it — Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, If not most mortal to him.
Page 41 - Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. — Boy ! False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 't is there, That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it.— Boy ! Auf.
Page 50 - Who deserves greatness Deserves your hate. And your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon your favours swims with fins of lead And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye? 180 With every minute you do change a mind, And call him noble that was now your hate, Him vile that was your garland.
Page 119 - As reek o' th' rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, — I banish you ; And here remain with your uncertainty ! Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts ! Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, Fan you into despair ! Have the power still To...
Page 170 - Yet men marvelling much at his constancy, that he was never overcome with pleasure, nor money, and how he would endure easily all manner of pains and travails; thereupon they well liked and commended his stoutness and temperancy.