Shakspeare's Coriolanus, Or, The Roman Matron: A Historical Play

Front Cover
theatre, 1812 - Promptbooks - 62 pages

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Selected pages

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 42 - As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcases 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 banish your defenders ; till, at length, Your ignorance...
Page 55 - 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 6 - 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? With every minute you do change a mind; And call him noble, that was now your hate, Him vile, that was your garland.
Page 61 - But with respect and awful veneration. — Whate'er her blots, whate'er her giddy factions, There is more virtue in one single year Of Roman story, than your Volscian annals Can boast through all their creeping, dark duration ! Auf.
Page 39 - That hath receiv'd an alms! I will not do't, Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth, And by my body's action teach my mind A most inherent baseness.
Page 55 - The noble sister of Publicola, The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle That 's curded by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple : dear Valeria ! Vol.
Page 61 - I court The worst thy sword can do ; while thou from me Hast nothing to expect but sore destruction ; Quit then this hostile camp : once more I tell thee, Thou art not here one single hour in safety.
Page 60 - Fire the cursed forest, where these Roman wolves Haunt and infest their nobler neighbours round them ; Extirpate from the bosom of this land A false, perfidious people, who, beneath The mask of freedom, are a combination Against the liberty of human kind ; The genuine seed of outlaws and of robbers.

Bibliographic information