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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] |
Master |
5 |
Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
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2 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Alonso |
15 |
Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
Play the men.
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3 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Gonzalo |
21 |
Nay, good, be patient.
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4 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Gonzalo |
24 |
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
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5 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Boatswain |
25 |
None that I more love than myself. You are a
counsellor; if you can command these elements to
silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
of our way, I say.
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6 |
Tempest
[I, 1] |
Gonzalo |
34 |
I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he
hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his
hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,
for our own doth little advantage. If he be not
born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
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7 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
85 |
If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
The fraughting souls within her.
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8 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
188 |
O, good sir, I do.
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9 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Prospero |
189 |
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing—
Dost thou hear?
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10 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
222 |
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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11 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Prospero |
293 |
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
[MIRANDA sleeps]
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
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12 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
504 |
Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which
good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
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13 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Ferdinand |
589 |
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
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14 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Prospero |
611 |
[Aside]. The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this.
[To FERDINAND]
A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
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15 |
Tempest
[I, 2] |
Miranda |
638 |
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with't.
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16 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Gonzalo |
706 |
Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
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17 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Antonio |
733 |
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good
wager, first begins to crow?
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18 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Sebastian |
780 |
What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,
how you take it!
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19 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Antonio |
795 |
Why, in good time.
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20 |
Tempest
[II, 1] |
Francisco |
814 |
Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
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