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Roman plays

Coriolanus
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  • ACT I SCENE V

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act I   Scene III 
     Act I   Scene IV 
     Act I   Scene V 
     Act I   Scene VI
     Act I   Scene VII 
     Act I   Scene VIII 
     Act I   Scene IX
     Act I   Scene X 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act III Scene I
    
     Act III Scene II 
     Act III Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act IV  Scene V 
     Act IV  Scene VI 
     Act IV  Scene VII 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V 
     Act V   Scene VI
     Complete play


     Act I 

    
    ACT I: SCENE V	Corioli. A street.

    
    	Enter certain Romans, with spoils
    
    First Roman	This will I carry to Rome.
    
    Second Roman	And I this.
    
    Third Roman	A murrain on't! I took this for silver.
    
    	Alarum continues still afar off
    
    	Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet
    
    MARCIUS	See here these movers that do prize their hours
    	At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
    	Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
    	Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
    	Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them!
    	And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!
    	There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
    	Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take
    	Convenient numbers to make good the city;
    	Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
    	To help Cominius.
    
    LARTIUS	                  Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
    	Thy exercise hath been too violent for
    	A second course of fight.
    
    MARCIUS	Sir, praise me not;
    	My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well:
    	The blood I drop is rather physical
    	Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus
    	I will appear, and fight.
    
    LARTIUS	Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
    	Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
    	Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
    	Prosperity be thy page!
    
    MARCIUS	Thy friend no less
    	Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.
    
    LARTIUS	Thou worthiest Marcius!
    
    	Exit MARCIUS
    
    	Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
    	Call thither all the officers o' the town,
    	Where they shall know our mind: away!
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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