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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 edition ellipsis enemies Enter envy Exeunt fear flatter folios read follow friends gates give gods Hanmer hate hath hear heart honour Johnson ladies Lear lord Macb Malone means Menenius Merchant of Venice 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 tell Temp thee Theo thing Titus Lartius tongue tribunes trumpets Tullus Aufidius unto Valeria valiant verb Virgilia voices Volsces Volscian Volumnia Warb wars wife word worthy yield
Page 40 - 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 234 - 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 119 - You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the 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 banish your defenders; till, at length, Your ignorance, (which finds not, till it feels,) Making...
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 - What would you have, you curs, That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares. Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, Or hailstone in the sun.
Page 156 - 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.
Page 12 - It puts the individual for the species, the one above the infinite many, might before right. A lion hunting a flock of sheep or a herd of wild asses is a more poetical object than they ; and we even take part with the lordly beast, because our vanity or some other feeling makes us disposed to place ourselves in the situation of the strongest party.
Page 156 - Martius, whose life we intend now to write, being left an orphan by his father, was brought up under his mother a widow, who taught us by experience, that orphanage bringeth many discommodities...