Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Volum. To teare with Thunder the wide Cheekes a'th'Ayre,
Volum. And yet to change thy Sulphure with a Boult
Volum. That should but riue an Oake. Why do'st not speake?
Volum. Think'st thou it Honourable for a Nobleman
Volum. Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speake you:
Volum. He cares not for your weeping. Speake thou Boy,
Volum. Perhaps thy childishnesse will moue him more
Volum. Then can our Reasons. There's no man in the world
Volum. More bound to's Mother, yet heere he let's me prate
Volum. Like one i'th'Stockes. Thou hast neuer in thy life,
Volum. Shew'd thy deere Mother any curtesie,
Volum. When she (poore Hen) fond of no second brood,
Volum. Ha's clock'd thee to the Warres: and safelie home
Volum. Loden with Honor. Say my Request's vniust,
Volum. And spurne me backe: But, if it be not so
Volum. Thou art not honest, and the Gods will plague Thee
Volum. That thou restrain'st from me the Duty, which
Volum. To a Mothers part belongs. He turnes away:
Volum. Down Ladies: let vs shame him with him with our knees
Volum. To his sur‑name Coriolanus longs more pride