Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Corio. Corio.
Corio. What must I say, I pray Sir?
Corio. Plague vpon't, I cannot bring
Corio. My tongue to such a pace. Looke Sir, my wounds,
Corio. I got them in my Countries Seruice, when
Corio. Some certaine of your Brethren roar'd, and ranne
Corio. From th'noise of our owne Drummes.
Menen. Menen.
Menen. Oh me the Gods, you must not speak of that,
Menen. You must desire them to thinke vpon you.
Coriol. Coriol.
Coriol. Thinke vpon me? Hang 'em,
Coriol. I would they would forget me, like the Vertues
Coriol. Which our Diuines lose by em.
Men. Men.
Men. You'l marre all,
Men. Ile leaue you: Pray you speake to em, I pray You
Men. In wholsome manner.
Men. Exit
Men. Enter three of the Citizens.