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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 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Gonzalo |
69 |
He'll be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it
And gape at widest to glut him.
[A confused noise within: 'Mercy on us!'—]
'We split, we split!'—'Farewell, my wife and
children!'—
'Farewell, brother!'—'We split, we split, we split!']
|
2 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
608 |
Alack, for mercy!
|
3 |
Tempest
[II, 2] |
Stephano |
1185 |
Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is
a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
long spoon.
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4 |
Tempest
[III, 2] |
Stephano |
1461 |
Trinculo, run into no further danger:
interrupt the monster one word further, and,
by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors
and make a stock-fish of thee.
|
5 |
Tempest
[III, 2] |
Stephano |
1530 |
He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
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6 |
Tempest
[IV, 1] |
Prospero |
2009 |
Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lie at my mercy all mine enemies:
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little
Follow, and do me service.
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7 |
Tempest
[V, 1] |
Prospero |
2404 |
Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free. |