#
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] |
Timon |
190 |
I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
|
2 |
Timon of Athens
[I, 1] |
Second Lord |
316 |
Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!
|
3 |
Timon of Athens
[I, 2] |
Timon |
426 |
O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods
themselves have provided that I shall have much help
from you: how had you been my friends else? why
have you that charitable title from thousands, did
not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told
more of you to myself than you can with modesty
speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm
you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any
friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they
were the most needless creatures living, should we
ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble
sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their
sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished
myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
are born to do benefits: and what better or
properer can we can our own than the riches of our
friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have
so many, like brothers, commanding one another's
fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born!
Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to
forget their faults, I drink to you.
|
4 |
Timon of Athens
[I, 2] |
Apemantus |
610 |
No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,
there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,
Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in
paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and
vain-glories?
|
5 |
Timon of Athens
[II, 2] |
Apemantus |
737 |
No,'tis to thyself.
[To the Fool]
Come away.
|
6 |
Timon of Athens
[II, 2] |
Fool |
780 |
I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my
mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come
to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and
go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house
merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this?
|
7 |
Timon of Athens
[III, 4] |
(stage directions) |
1211 |
[Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled]
He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
|
8 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 2] |
Second Servant |
1616 |
As we do turn our backs
From our companion thrown into his grave,
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.
|
9 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
1832 |
Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him that, his particular to foresee,
Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
ruffians bald;
And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you: plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection. There's more gold:
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!
|
10 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
1857 |
Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
Thy beagles with thee.
|
11 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
1907 |
Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.
|
12 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Apemantus |
1908 |
Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,
That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip where thou point'st out? will the
cold brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
Whose naked natures live in an the spite
Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
O, thou shalt find—
|
13 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
1984 |
First mend my company, take away thyself.
|
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.
|
15 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
2071 |
Away,
Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
A stone by thee.
|
16 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
2137 |
Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape,
Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
Do villany, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery.
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen
From general excrement: each thing's a thief:
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away,
Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats:
All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go,
Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this
I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.
|
17 |
Timon of Athens
[IV, 3] |
Timon |
2187 |
Away! what art thou?
|
18 |
Timon of Athens
[V, 4] |
Soldier |
2635 |
My noble general, Timon is dead;
Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea;
And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
Interprets for my poor ignorance.
|