Grain

Coriolanus, [3.3.89-95]. Coriolanus. “I’ll know no further./ Let them pronounce the steep Tarpein death,/ Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger/ But with a grain a day, I would not buy/ Their mercy at the price of one fair word,/ Nor check my courage for what they can give,/ To have ‘t with saying ‘Good morrow.'”

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