#
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 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 1] |
Troilus |
78 |
O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,—
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
In Cressid's love: thou answer'st 'she is fair;'
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman: this thou tell'st me,
As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.
|
2 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 1] |
Troilus |
95 |
Thou dost not speak so much.
|
3 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 1] |
Troilus |
103 |
What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?
|
4 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 3] |
Ulysses |
505 |
Agamemnon,
Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit.
In whom the tempers and the minds of all
Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks.
Besides the applause and approbation To which,
[To AGAMEMNON]
most mighty for thy place and sway,
[To NESTOR]
And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life
I give to both your speeches, which were such
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
Should hold up high in brass, and such again
As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,
Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
|
5 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 3] |
Agamemnon |
712 |
Speak frankly as the wind;
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:
That thou shalt know. Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.
|
6 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Ajax |
866 |
Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?
[Beating him]
Feel, then.
|
7 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
869 |
The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel
beef-witted lord!
|
8 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Ajax |
871 |
Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will
beat thee into handsomeness.
|
9 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
873 |
I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,
I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than
thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,
canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!
|
10 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
878 |
Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
|
11 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
880 |
Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.
|
12 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
882 |
I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had
the scratching of thee; I would make thee the
loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in
the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.
|
13 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
887 |
Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,
and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as
Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou
barkest at him.
|
14 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
892 |
Thou shouldest strike him.
|
15 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Ajax |
898 |
Thou stool for a witch!
|
16 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
899 |
Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no
more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego
may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art
here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and
sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.
If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and
tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no
bowels, thou!
|
17 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Ajax |
944 |
O thou damned cur! I shall—
|
18 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
968 |
'Tis no matter! I shall speak as much as thou
afterwards.
|
19 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1215 |
How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of
thy fury! Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He
beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!
would it were otherwise; that I could beat him,
whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of
my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a
rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two
undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of
themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,
Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy
caduceus, if ye take not that little, little less
than little wit from them that they have! which
short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant
scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly
from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and
cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the
whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for that,
methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war
for a placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy
say Amen. What ho! my Lord Achilles!
|
20 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1239 |
If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou
wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but
it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common
curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in
great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and
discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy
direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee
out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and
sworn upon't she never shrouded any but lazars.
Amen. Where's Achilles?
|