Speeches (Lines) for First Conspirator in "The Tragedy of Coriolanus"

Total: 3
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# Act / Scene Speech text
1 V / 6
  • How is it with our general?
  • How is it with our general?
  • Tullus Aufidius. Go tell the lords o' the city I am here:
    Deliver them this paper: having read it,
    Bid them repair to the market place; where I,
    Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
    Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
    The city ports by this hath enter'd and
    Intends to appear before the people, hoping
    To purge herself with words: dispatch.
    [Exeunt Attendants]
    [Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction]
    Most welcome!

    First Conspirator. How is it with our general?

2 V / 6
  • So he did, my lord:
    The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
    When he...
  • So he did, my lord:
    The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
    When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
    For no less spoil than glory,--
  • Tullus Aufidius. That I would have spoke of:
    Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
    Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
    Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
    In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
    Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
    My best and freshest men; served his designments
    In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
    Which he did end all his; and took some pride
    To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
    I seem'd his follower, not partner, and
    He waged me with his countenance, as if
    I had been mercenary.

    First Conspirator. So he did, my lord:
    The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
    When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
    For no less spoil than glory,--

3 V / 6
  • Your native town you enter'd like a post,
    And had no welcomes home: but he r...
  • Your native town you enter'd like a post,
    And had no welcomes home: but he returns,
    Splitting the air with noise.
  • Tullus Aufidius. There was it:
    For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
    At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
    As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
    Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
    And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
    [Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of]
    the People]

    First Conspirator. Your native town you enter'd like a post,
    And had no welcomes home: but he returns,
    Splitting the air with noise.

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© Copyright 2017-2021 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.