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Result number
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Work
The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets
are treated as single work with 154 parts.
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Character
Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet,
the character name is "Poet."
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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.
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Text
The line's full text, with keywords highlighted
within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
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1 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Flavius |
2 |
Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:
Is this a holiday? what! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day without the sign
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
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2 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Marullus |
8 |
Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, sir, what trade are you?
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3 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Second Commoner |
11 |
Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,
as you would say, a cobbler.
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4 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Second Commoner |
17 |
Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet,
if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
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5 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Second Commoner |
20 |
Why, sir, cobble you.
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6 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Marullus |
33 |
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone!
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
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7 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Flavius |
56 |
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
[Exeunt all the Commoners]
See whether their basest metal be not moved;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
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8 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Marullus |
67 |
May we do so?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
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9 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 1] |
Flavius |
69 |
It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
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10 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Caesar |
86 |
Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his course. Antonius!
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11 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Brutus |
105 |
A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
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12 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
112 |
Will you go see the order of the course?
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13 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
114 |
I pray you, do.
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14 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Brutus |
115 |
I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you.
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15 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
119 |
Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And show of love as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.
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16 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Brutus |
124 |
Cassius,
Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved—
Among which number, Cassius, be you one—
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.
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17 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
136 |
Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
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18 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
142 |
'Tis just:
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
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19 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Brutus |
151 |
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?
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20 |
Julius Caesar
[I, 2] |
Cassius |
154 |
Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:
And since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men and hug them hard
And after scandal them, or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
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