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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 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 2] |
Captain |
83 |
A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjured the company
And sight of men.
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2 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 2] |
Viola |
96 |
There is a fair behavior in thee, captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke:
Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him:
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
And speak to him in many sorts of music
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
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3 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 2] |
Captain |
111 |
Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
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4 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 3] |
Sir Toby Belch |
150 |
With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to
her as long as there is a passage in my throat and
drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill
that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn
o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench!
Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
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5 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 4] |
Viola |
250 |
You either fear his humour or my negligence, that
you call in question the continuance of his love:
is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
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6 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 4] |
Orsino |
277 |
Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
And all is semblative a woman's part.
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair. Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best
When least in company. Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.
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7 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 4] |
Viola |
289 |
I'll do my best
To woo your lady:
[Aside]
yet, a barful strife!
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.
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8 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Feste |
359 |
I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
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9 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
360 |
I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
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10 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Feste |
367 |
God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be
sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his
word for two pence that you are no fool.
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11 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Malvolio |
372 |
I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day
with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard
already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to
him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better
than the fools' zanies.
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12 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Malvolio |
448 |
Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for
a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a
cooling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him
in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one
would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
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13 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
515 |
In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?
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14 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Viola |
516 |
To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
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15 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
547 |
Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
And in dimension and the shape of nature
A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his answer long ago.
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16 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Viola |
577 |
I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
And let your fervor, like my master's, be
Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.
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17 |
Twelfth Night
[I, 5] |
Olivia |
597 |
Run after that same peevish messenger,
The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.
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18 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 2] |
Malvolio |
661 |
She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself.
She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord
into a desperate assurance she will none of him:
and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to
come again in his affairs, unless it be to report
your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
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19 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 2] |
Malvolio |
669 |
Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her
will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth
stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be
it his that finds it.
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20 |
Twelfth Night
[II, 3] |
Feste |
805 |
'His eyes do show his days are almost done.'
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