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(Still your own foes), deliver you, as most
PRECEPTS AGAINST ILL FORTUNE.
You were us'd
To say, extremity was the trier of spirits;
ON COMMON FRIENDSHIPS.
O,world,thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
On a dissension of a doit†, break out
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their
Let me twine
Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash a hundred times hath broke, † A small coin.
And scared the moon with splinters! Here I clip*
As hotly and as nobly with thy love,
THE SEASON OF SOLICITATION.
He was not taken well; he had not din'd: The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd These pipes, and these conveyances of our blood With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch Till he be dieted to my request.
My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
What is that curt'sey worth, or those dove's eyes,
Of stronger earth than others.-My mother bows;
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Great nature cries, Deny not-Let the Volsces
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
CORIOLANUS'S PRAYER FOR HIS SON.
The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
And saving those that
VOLUMNIA'S PATHETIC SPEECH TO HER SON
Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and
We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win: for either thou Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our streets, or else Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin; * Gust, storm.
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
These wars determine*: if I cannot persuade thee
PEACE AFTER A SIEGE.
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, [you; Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance.
Imo. THOU shouldst have made him
To after-eye him.
Madam, so I did.
Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but
To look upon him; till the diminution
space had pointed him sharp as my needle: Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from The smallness of a gnat to air; and then