# 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]

Christopher Sly

2

I'll pheeze you, in faith.

2

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Hostess

3

A pair of stocks, you rogue!

3

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Hostess

7

You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

4

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

35

O monstrous beast, how like a swine he lies!
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

5

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

First Huntsman

70

My lord, I warrant you we will play our part
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is.

6

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

84

Bid them come near.
Now, fellows, you are welcome.

7

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

88

Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

8

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

90

With all my heart. This fellow I remember
Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;
'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.

9

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

96

'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in happy time,
The rather for I have some sport in hand
Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
There is a lord will hear you play to-night;
But I am doubtful of your modesties,
Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour,
For yet his honour never heard a play,
You break into some merry passion
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.

10

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1]

Lord

109

Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
And give them friendly welcome every one;
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
[Exit one with the PLAYERS]
Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page,
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady;
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
Tell him from me- as he will win my love-
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished;
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say 'What is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty and make known her love?'
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed
To see her noble lord restor'd to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar.
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which, in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions. Exit a SERVINGMAN
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait, and action, of a gentlewoman;
I long to hear him call the drunkard 'husband';
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. Exeunt

11

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Christopher Sly

152

I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor 'lordship.' I
ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves,
give me conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear,
for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than
legs, nor no more shoes than feet- nay, sometime more feet than
shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.

12

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Christopher Sly

162

What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old
Sly's son of Burton Heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a
cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present
profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of
Wincot, if she know me not; if she say I am not fourteen pence on
the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'st knave in
Christendom. What! I am not bestraught. [Taking a pot of ale]
Here's-

13

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Second Servant

221

Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!
O, that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.

14

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

First Servant

228

O, yes, my lord, but very idle words;
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house,
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts.
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

15

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Third Servant

236

Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

16

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Christopher Sly

250

Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
My men should call me 'lord'; I am your goodman.

17

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Christopher Sly

262

'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
[Exeunt SERVANTS]
Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.

18

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Page

265

Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two;
Or, if not so, until the sun be set.
For your physicians have expressly charg'd,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I should yet absent me from your bed.
I hope this reason stands for my excuse.

19

Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2]

Messenger

276

Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For so your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.

20

Taming of the Shrew
[I, 1]

Tranio

318

Mi perdonato, gentle master mine;
I am in all affected as yourself;
Glad that you thus continue your resolve
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue and this moral discipline,
Let's be no Stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
Or so devote to Aristotle's checks
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd.
Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
Music and poesy use to quicken you;
The mathematics and the metaphysics,
Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.