| |
| |
| William Shakespeare. (15641616) (continued) |
| |
| 1174 |
| Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. |
| Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 1175 |
| A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in t. 1 |
| Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 1176 |
| Many-headed multitude. 2 |
| Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| 1177 |
I thank you for your voices: thank you: Your most sweet voices. |
| Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| 1178 |
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute shall? |
| Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 1179 |
| Enough, with over-measure. |
| Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 1180 |
His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for s power to thunder. |
| Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 1181 |
That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour, as in war. |
| Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 2. |
| 1182 |
Serv. Where dwellest thou? Cor. Under the canopy. |
| Coriolanus. Act iv. Sc. 5. |
| 1183 |
A name unmusical to the Volscians ears, And harsh in sound to thine. |
| Coriolanus. Act iv. Sc. 5. |
| 1184 |
Chaste as the icicle That s curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dians temple. |
| Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 1185 |
If you have writ your annals true, t is there That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutterd your Volscians in Corioli: Alone I did it. Boy! |
| Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 6. 3 |
| 1186 |
| Sweet mercy is nobilitys true badge. |
| Titus Andronicus. Act i. Sc. 2. |