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My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.

      — King Richard III, Act V Scene 3

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KEYWORD: soldiers

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# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."

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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1

Coriolanus
[I, 4]

(stage directions)

478

[Enter, with drum and colours, CORIOLANUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger]

2

Coriolanus
[I, 6]

(stage directions)

607

[Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire,]
with soldiers]

3

Coriolanus
[I, 7]

(stage directions)

722

[TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon]
Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward
COMINIUS and CAIUS CORIOLANUS, enters with
Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout]

4

Coriolanus
[I, 10]

(stage directions)

877

[A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS,]
bloody, with two or three Soldiers]

5

Coriolanus
[II, 1]

Volumnia

1076

These are the ushers of CORIOLANUS: before him he
carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
[A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the]
general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS,
crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and
Soldiers, and a Herald]

6

Coriolanus
[IV, 7]

Lieutenant

3218

I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
And you are darken'd in this action, sir,
Even by your own.

7

Coriolanus
[IV, 7]

Tullus Aufidius

3246

All places yield to him ere he sits down;
And the nobility of Rome are his:
The senators and patricians love him too:
The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome
As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature. First he was
A noble servant to them; but he could not
Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving
From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace
Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war; but one of these—
As he hath spices of them all, not all,
For I dare so far free him—made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time:
And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
To extol what it hath done.
One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.

8

Coriolanus
[V, 3]

Coriolanus

3572

The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!

9

Coriolanus
[V, 3]

Coriolanus

3582

I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before:
The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
To ally my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons.

10

Coriolanus
[V, 6]

Tullus Aufidius

3999

My rage is gone;
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.

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