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Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

      — Twelfth Night, Act III Scene 1

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KEYWORD: ours

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# 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

Macbeth
[II, 3]

Malcolm

909

[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?

2

Macbeth
[V, 5]

Macbeth

2353

Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
Till famine and the ague eat them up:
Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.
[A cry of women within]
What is that noise?

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