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Result number
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Work
The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets
are treated as single work with 154 parts.
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Character
Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet,
the character name is "Poet."
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Line
Shows where the line falls within the work.
The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of
collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not
restart for each scene.
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Text
The line's full text, with keywords highlighted
within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
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1 |
Coriolanus
[I, 5] |
Titus Lartius |
595 |
Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!
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2 |
Coriolanus
[I, 9] |
Coriolanus |
843 |
I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
To undercrest your good addition
To the fairness of my power.
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3 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
999 |
Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When
you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the
wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not
so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's
cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-
saddle. Yet you must be saying, CORIOLANUS is proud;
who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors
since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the
best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to
your worships: more of your conversation would
infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
[BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside]
[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA]
How now, my as fair as noble ladies,—and the moon,
were she earthly, no nobler,—whither do you follow
your eyes so fast?
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4 |
Coriolanus
[III, 1] |
Coriolanus |
2037 |
On fair ground
I could beat forty of them.
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5 |
Coriolanus
[III, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
2064 |
I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
Could he not speak 'em fair?
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6 |
Coriolanus
[III, 2] |
Menenius Agrippa |
2249 |
Noble lady!
Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.
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7 |
Coriolanus
[III, 2] |
Menenius Agrippa |
2280 |
Only fair speech.
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8 |
Coriolanus
[III, 3] |
Coriolanus |
2455 |
I know no further:
Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger
But with a grain a day, I would not buy
Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
Nor cheque my courage for what they can give,
To have't with saying 'Good morrow.'
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9 |
Coriolanus
[IV, 4] |
Coriolanus |
2716 |
A goodly city is this Antium. City,
'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir
Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars
Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not,
Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones
In puny battle slay me.
[Enter a Citizen]
Save you, sir.
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10 |
Coriolanus
[IV, 4] |
Coriolanus |
2731 |
Thank you, sir: farewell.
[Exit Citizen]
O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love
Unseparable, shall within this hour,
On a dissension of a doit, break out
To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes,
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends
And interjoin their issues. So with me:
My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon
This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me,
He does fair justice; if he give me way,
I'll do his country service.
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11 |
Coriolanus
[IV, 6] |
Menenius Agrippa |
3123 |
Pray now, your news?
You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news?—
If CORIOLANUS should be join'd with Volscians,—
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12 |
Coriolanus
[IV, 6] |
Menenius Agrippa |
3139 |
As Hercules
Did shake down mellow fruit.
You have made fair work!
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13 |
Coriolanus
[IV, 6] |
Menenius Agrippa |
3158 |
'Tis true:
If he were putting to my house the brand
That should consume it, I have not the face
To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,
You and your crafts! you have crafted fair!
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14 |
Coriolanus
[V, 1] |
Cominius |
3354 |
I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me
Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do,
He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
So that all hope is vain.
Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.
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