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Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

      — King Henry IV. Part II, Act I Scene 2

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1-14 of 14 total

KEYWORD: dog

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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.

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

1

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Apemantus

222

Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

2

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Painter

241

You're a dog.

3

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Apemantus

242

Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

4

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Second Lord

316

Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!

5

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Apemantus

317

I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.

6

Timon of Athens
[I, 2]

Apemantus

395

Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides
well. Those healths will make thee and thy state
look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to
be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:
This and my food are equals; there's no odds:
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
Apemantus' grace.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself:
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot, for her weeping;
Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping:
Or a keeper with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't:
Rich men sin, and I eat root.
[Eats and drinks]
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

7

Timon of Athens
[II, 1]

Senator

627

And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
And able horses. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason
Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!

8

Timon of Athens
[II, 2]

Page

769

Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a
dog's death. Answer not; I am gone.

9

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

1722

I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

10

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

1888

'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

11

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

1944

Not by his breath that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary,
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment,
That numberless upon me stuck as leaves
Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff
To some she beggar and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

12

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

2017

I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a
dog.

13

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

2057

When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

14

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

2067

Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
I swound to see thee.

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