I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive,
Whether I blush, or no. Howbeit, I thank you,
I mean to stride your steed....
Bid them wash their faces,
And keep their teeth clean....
To beg of Hob and Dick....
What must I say?
I pray, sir.... Plague upon 't! I cannot bring
My tongue to such a pace:—look, sir; my wounds;
I got them in my country's service, when
Some certain of your brethren roar'd, and ran
From the noise of our own drums.
.... Come, enough.—Enough, with over-measure.
CORIOLANUS.
No, take more:
What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
Seal what I end withal:—at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison:
.... Throw their power i' the dust.