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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, 1] |
First Citizen |
5 |
You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
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2 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
First Citizen |
7 |
First, you know Caius CORIOLANUS is chief enemy to the people.
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3 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Second Citizen |
23 |
Would you proceed especially against Caius CORIOLANUS?
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4 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Second Citizen |
25 |
Consider you what services he has done for his country?
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5 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
First Citizen |
29 |
I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did
it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be
content to say it was for his country he did it to
please his mother and to be partly proud; which he
is, even till the altitude of his virtue.
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6 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Second Citizen |
34 |
What he cannot help in his nature, you account a
vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.
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7 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
47 |
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.
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8 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
54 |
Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
Will you undo yourselves?
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9 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
57 |
I tell you, friends, most charitable care
Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
Against the Roman state, whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity
Thither where more attends you, and you slander
The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.
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10 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
79 |
Either you must
Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you
A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;
But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To stale 't a little more.
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11 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
First Citizen |
85 |
Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to
fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please
you, deliver.
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12 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
99 |
Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus—
For, look you, I may make the belly smile
As well as speak—it tauntingly replied
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators for that
They are not such as you.
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13 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
120 |
I will tell you
If you'll bestow a small—of what you have little—
Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.
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14 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
124 |
Note me this, good friend;
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:
'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he,
'That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the store-house and the shop
Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain;
And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live: and though that all at once,
You, my good friends,'—this says the belly, mark me,—
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15 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
140 |
'Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flour of all,
And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?
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16 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
First Citizen |
145 |
It was an answer: how apply you this?
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17 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
146 |
The senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members; for examine
Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find
No public benefit which you receive
But it proceeds or comes from them to you
And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
You, the great toe of this assembly?
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18 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
155 |
For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,
Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
Lead'st first to win some vantage.
But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
The one side must have bale.
[Enter CAIUS CORIOLANUS]
Hail, noble CORIOLANUS!
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19 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Coriolanus |
164 |
Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?
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20 |
Coriolanus
[I, 1] |
Coriolanus |
168 |
He that will give good words to thee will flatter
Beneath abhorring. 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. Your virtue is
To make him worthy whose offence subdues him
And curse that justice did it.
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. What's the matter,
That in these several places of the city
You cry against the noble senate, who,
Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?
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