# 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.

Text The line's full text, with keywords highlighted within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.

1

Macbeth
[II, 1]

Banquo

592

All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.

2

Macbeth
[II, 3]

Macduff

798

I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

3

Macbeth
[II, 4]

Old Man

959

'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.

4

Macbeth
[III, 1]

Macbeth

1087

Well then, now
Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
That it was he in the times past which held you
So under fortune, which you thought had been
Our innocent self: this I made good to you
In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you,
How you were borne in hand, how cross'd,
the instruments,
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
To half a soul and to a notion crazed
Say 'Thus did Banquo.'

5

Macbeth
[III, 4]

Macbeth

1272

You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
And last the hearty welcome.

6

Macbeth
[IV, 1]

All

1680

Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
[A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in]
his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following]

7

Macbeth
[V, 1]

Doctor

2128

I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive
no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

8

Macbeth
[V, 5]

Macbeth

2374

She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
[Enter a Messenger]
Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.

9

Macbeth
[V, 8]

Macbeth

2506

I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'
[Exeunt, fighting. Alarums]
[Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours,]
MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers]