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I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite,
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To be full quit of those my banishers,
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Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
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A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
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Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
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Of shame seen through thy country, speed
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thee straight,
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And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it
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That my revengeful services may prove
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As benefits to thee, for I will fight
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Against my canker'd country with the spleen
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Of all the under fiends. But if so be
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Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes
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Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am
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Longer to live most weary, and present
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My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
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Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
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Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
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Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
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And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
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It be to do thee service.
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AUFIDIUS:
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O Marcius, Marcius!
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Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
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A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
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Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
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And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more
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Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
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Mine arms about that body, where against
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My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
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And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip
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The anvil of my sword, and do contest
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As hotly and as nobly with thy love
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As ever in ambitious strength I did
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Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
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I loved the maid I married; never man
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Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,
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Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart
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Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
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Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,
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We have a power on foot; and I had purpose
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Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
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Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out
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Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
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Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;
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We have been down together in my sleep,
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Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
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And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
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Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
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Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
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From twelve to seventy, and pouring war
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Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
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Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in,
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And take our friendly senators by the hands;
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Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
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Who am prepared against your territories,
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Though not for Rome itself.
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CORIOLANUS:
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You bless me, gods!
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AUFIDIUS:
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Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have
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The leading of thine own revenges, take
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The one half of my commission; and set down--
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As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st
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Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways;
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Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
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Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
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To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
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Let me commend thee first to those that shall
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Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
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And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
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Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!
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First Servingman:
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Here's a strange alteration!
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Second Servingman:
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By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with
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a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a
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false report of him.
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First Servingman:
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What an arm he has! he turned me about with his
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finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
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Second Servingman:
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Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in
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him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I
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cannot tell how to term it.
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First Servingman:
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He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged,
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but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
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Second Servingman:
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So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest
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man i' the world.
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