Shakespeare's Coriolanus, for the use of students, with intr. and notes [by B. Jonson].

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Page 19 - 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? With every minute you do change a mind; And call him noble, that was now your hate, Him vile, that was your garland.
Page 104 - 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 115 - If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it. Boy ! Auf.
Page 108 - 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 prevail'd, If not most mortal to him.

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