# 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

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Orsino

2

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.

2

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Orsino

20

Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.
[Enter VALENTINE]
How now! what news from her?

3

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Orsino

37

O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.

4

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.

5

Twelfth Night
[I, 2]

Viola

113

I thank thee: lead me on.

6

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Andrew Aguecheek

192

Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary
put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit
than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a
great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.

7

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Andrew Aguecheek

207

But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

8

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Andrew Aguecheek

211

Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece
will not be seen; or if she be, it's four to one
she'll none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.

9

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

243

No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the
caper; ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent!

10

Twelfth Night
[I, 4]

Valentine

253

No, believe me.

11

Twelfth Night
[I, 4]

Viola

265

Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

12

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Maria

296

Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

13

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Feste

299

Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
world needs to fear no colours.

14

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Feste

323

Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft
prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may
pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
[Enter OLIVIA with MALVOLIO]
God bless thee, lady!

15

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Feste

347

Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non
facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
prove you a fool.

16

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Feste

354

I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse
of virtue, answer me.

17

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Sir Toby Belch

418

Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give
me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

18

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Olivia

439

Tell him he shall not speak with me.

19

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Olivia

458

Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.
We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

20

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Olivia

462

Speak to me; I shall answer for her.
Your will?