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Result number
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Work
The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets
are treated as single work with 154 parts.
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Character
Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet,
the character name is "Poet."
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Line
Shows where the line falls within the work.
The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of
collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not
restart for each scene.
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Text
The line's full text, with keywords highlighted
within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
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1 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 1] |
Valentine |
28 |
So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
But from her handmaid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
And lasting in her sad remembrance.
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2 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 2] |
Viola |
89 |
O that I served that lady
And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is!
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3 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 3] |
Sir Andrew Aguecheek |
174 |
An you part so, mistress, I would I might never
draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have
fools in hand?
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4 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
547 |
Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
And in dimension and the shape of nature
A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his answer long ago.
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5 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
568 |
You might do much.
What is your parentage?
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6 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 1] |
Sebastian |
613 |
By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over
me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps
distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your
leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad
recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.
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7 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 2] |
Malvolio |
661 |
She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself.
She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord
into a desperate assurance she will none of him:
and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to
come again in his affairs, unless it be to report
your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
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8 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 4] |
Feste |
968 |
Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for
thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such
constancy put to sea, that their business might be
every thing and their intent every where; for that's
it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
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9 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 4] |
Viola |
1005 |
Too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.
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10 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 5] |
Fabian |
1157 |
Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see
more detraction at your heels than fortunes before
you.
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11 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 1] |
Feste |
1253 |
Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that
word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words
are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.
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12 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 1] |
Feste |
1288 |
The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is
within, sir. I will construe to them whence you
come; who you are and what you would are out of my
welkin, I might say 'element,' but the word is over-worn.
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13 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 1] |
Olivia |
1348 |
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
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14 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 1] |
Viola |
1382 |
Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
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15 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 3] |
Antonio |
1492 |
I could not stay behind you: my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you, though so much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.
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16 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 3] |
Antonio |
1520 |
The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out;
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
I shall pay dear.
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17 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 4] |
Olivia |
1759 |
Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
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18 |
Twelfth Night
[III, 4] |
Sir Toby Belch |
1790 |
Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a
very competent injury: therefore, get you on and
give him his desire. Back you shall not to the
house, unless you undertake that with me which with
as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on,
or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you
must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
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19 |
Twelfth Night
[IV, 2] |
Malvolio |
2070 |
That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
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20 |
Twelfth Night
[IV, 3] |
Sebastian |
2152 |
This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?
I could not find him at the Elephant:
Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,
That he did range the town to seek me out.
His counsel now might do me golden service;
For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
That this may be some error, but no madness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes
And wrangle with my reason that persuades me
To any other trust but that I am mad
Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing
As I perceive she does: there's something in't
That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.
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