Most sweet voices! Better it is to die, better to starve, Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. Why in this wolvish toge should I stand here To beg of Hob and Dick that does appear Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to’t. What custom wills, in all things should we do’t? The dust on antique time would lie unswept And mountainous error be too highly heaped For truth to o’erpeer. Rather than fool it so, Let the high office and the honour go To one that would do thus. I am half through; The one part suffered, the other will I do. Enter three Citizens more. Here come more voices. Your voices! For your voices I have fought; Watched for your voices; for your voices bear Of wounds two dozen odd. Battles thrice six I have seen and heard of; for your voices have Done many things, some less, some more. Your voices! Indeed, I would be consul.

Coriolanus Monologue

Rehearse Coriolanus's monologue