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Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.

      — Cymbeline, Act IV Scene 2

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KEYWORD: british

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# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."

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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1

Cymbeline
[III, 5]

Queen

2016

Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN]
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized her,
Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, she's flown
To her desired Posthumus: gone she is
To death or to dishonour; and my end
Can make good use of either: she being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
[Re-enter CLOTEN]
How now, my son!

2

Cymbeline
[V, 2]

(stage directions)

2986

[Enter, from one side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and]
the Roman Army: from the other side, the
British Army; POSTHUMUS LEONATUS following,
like a poor soldier. They march over and go
out. Then enter again, in skirmish, IACHIMO
and POSTHUMUS LEONATUS he vanquisheth and disarmeth
IACHIMO, and then leaves him]

3

Cymbeline
[V, 3]

(stage directions)

3021

[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and a British Lord]

4

Cymbeline
[V, 3]

(stage directions)

3115

[Enter two British Captains and Soldiers]

5

Cymbeline
[V, 5]

Cymbeline

3950

Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward: let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's-town march:
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace.

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