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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 Senator |
239 |
CORIOLANUS, 'tis true that you have lately told us;
The Volsces are in arms.
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2 |
Coriolanus
[I, 2] |
Tullus Aufidius |
315 |
Is it not yours?
What ever have been thought on in this state,
That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone
Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think
I have the letter here; yes, here it is.
[Reads]
'They have press'd a power, but it is not known
Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;
The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, CORIOLANUS your old enemy,
Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,
And Titus TITUS, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this preparation
Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you:
Consider of it.'
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3 |
Coriolanus
[I, 2] |
Tullus Aufidius |
348 |
O, doubt not that;
I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
Some parcels of their power are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius CORIOLANUS chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike
Till one can do no more.
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4 |
Coriolanus
[I, 3] |
Valeria |
422 |
O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a
very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o'
Wednesday half an hour together: has such a
confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded
butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go
again; and after it again; and over and over he
comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his
fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his
teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked
it!
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5 |
Coriolanus
[I, 3] |
Valeria |
433 |
Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.
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6 |
Coriolanus
[I, 3] |
Virgilia |
447 |
'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.
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7 |
Coriolanus
[I, 4] |
Coriolanus |
481 |
'Tis done.
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8 |
Coriolanus
[I, 4] |
Coriolanus |
523 |
All the contagion of the south light on you,
You shames of Rome! you herd of—Boils and plagues
Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
Further than seen and one infect another
Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,
Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
And make my wars on you: look to't: come on;
If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
As they us to our trenches followed.
[Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and CORIOLANUS]
follows them to the gates]
So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds:
'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.
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9 |
Coriolanus
[I, 4] |
Titus Lartius |
567 |
O,'tis CORIOLANUS!
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
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10 |
Coriolanus
[I, 6] |
Cominius |
630 |
'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:
How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,
And bring thy news so late?
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11 |
Coriolanus
[I, 8] |
Coriolanus |
746 |
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood
Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge
Wrench up thy power to the highest.
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12 |
Coriolanus
[I, 9] |
Cominius |
859 |
Take't; 'tis yours. What is't?
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13 |
Coriolanus
[I, 9] |
Cominius |
873 |
Go we to our tent:
The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come.
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14 |
Coriolanus
[I, 10] |
Tullus Aufidius |
896 |
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to CORIOLANUS: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.
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15 |
Coriolanus
[I, 10] |
Tullus Aufidius |
910 |
I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you—
'Tis south the city mills—bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.
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16 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Menenius Agrippa |
942 |
Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
pleasure to you in being so. You blame CORIOLANUS for
being proud?
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17 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Volumnia |
1024 |
[together with Virgilia] Nay, 'tis true.
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18 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Virgilia |
1025 |
Nay, 'tis true.
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19 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Sicinius Velutus |
1180 |
'Tis right.
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20 |
Coriolanus
[II, 1] |
Junius Brutus |
1187 |
'Tis most like he will.
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