Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mene. Enter Coriolanus with Auffidius.
Corio. Corio.
Corio. What's the matter?
Mene. Mene.
Mene. Now you Companion: Ile say an arrant for you:
Mene. you shall know now that I am in estimation: you shall
Mene. perceiue, that a Iacke gardant cannot office me from my
Mene. Son Coriolanus, guesse but my entertainment with him: if
Mene. thou stand'st not i'th state of hanging, or of some death
Mene. more long in Spectatorship, and crueller in suffering, be
Mene. hold now presently, and swoond for what's to come vpon
Mene. thee. The glorious Gods sit in hourely Synod about thy
Mene. particular prosperity, and loue thee no worse then thy old
Mene. Father Menenius do's. O my Son, my Son! thou art pre
Mene. paring fire for vs: looke thee, heere's water to quench it.
Mene. I was hardly moued to come to thee: but beeing assured
Mene. none but my selfe could moue thee, I haue bene blowne
Mene. out of your Gates with sighes: and coniure thee to par
Mene. don Rome, and thy petitionary Countrimen. The good
Mene. Gods asswage thy wrath, and turne the dregs of it, vpon