#
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 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Prospero |
128 |
The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
|
2 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
156 |
O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?
|
3 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
270 |
How came we ashore?
|
4 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
694 |
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
|
5 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Antonio |
778 |
Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?
widow Dido!
|
6 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Antonio |
799 |
And the rarest that e'er came there.
|
7 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Francisco |
814 |
Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
|
8 |
Tempest
[V, 1] |
Alonso |
2291 |
These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
|
9 |
Tempest
[V, 1] |
Prospero |
2378 |
Sir, I invite your highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I'll bring you to your ship and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
|