Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Corio. Corio.
Corio. Why force you this?
Volum. Volum.
Volum. Because, that
Volum. Now it lyes you on to speake to th'people:
Volum. Not by your owne instruction, nor by'th'matter
Volum. Which your heart prompts you, but with such words
Volum. That are but roated in your Tongue;
Volum. Though but Bastards, and Syllables
Volum. Of no allowance, to your bosomes truth.
Volum. Now, this no more dishonors you at all,
Volum. Then to take in a Towne with gentle words,
Volum. Which else would put you to your fortune, and
Volum. The hazard of much blood.
Volum. I would dissemble with my Nature, where
Volum. My Fortunes and my Friends at stake, requir'd
Volum. I should do so in Honor. I am in this
Volum. bb3
Volum. Your
Volum. The Tragedie of Coriolanus.