# 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

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Hostess

7

You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

2

Taming of the Shrew
[III, 2]

Biondello

1405

Why, Petruchio is coming- in a new hat and an old
jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots
that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd; an old
rusty sword ta'en out of the town armoury, with a broken hilt,
and chapeless; with two broken points; his horse hipp'd, with an
old motley saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides, possess'd
with the glanders and like to mose in the chine, troubled with
the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped
with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
stark spoil'd with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, sway'd in
the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with a
half-cheek'd bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather which,
being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often
burst, and now repaired with knots; one girth six times piec'd,
and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her
name fairly set down in studs, and here and there piec'd with
pack-thread.

3

Taming of the Shrew
[IV, 1]

Grumio

1679

Tell thou the tale. But hadst thou not cross'd me, thou
shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse;
thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was
bemoil'd, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me
because her horse stumbled, how she waded through the dirt to
pluck him off me, how he swore, how she pray'd that never pray'd
before, how I cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was
burst, how I lost my crupper- with many things of worthy memory,
which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to
thy grave.