# 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]

Poet

96

Nay, sir, but hear me on.
All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink the free air.

2

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Old Athenian

139

Lord Timon, hear me speak.

3

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?

4

Timon of Athens
[I, 1]

Timon

194

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
or since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work;
And you shall find I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.

5

Timon of Athens
[I, 2]

Timon

536

Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee:
I prithee, let's be provided to show them
entertainment.

6

Timon of Athens
[I, 2]

Apemantus

620

So:
Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

7

Timon of Athens
[II, 2]

Flavius

668

No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account
How things go from him, nor resumes no care
Of what is to continue: never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!

8

Timon of Athens
[II, 2]

Flavius

813

You would not hear me,
At many leisures I proposed.

9

Timon of Athens
[II, 2]

Flavius

820

O my good lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine honesty.
When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;
Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close: I did endure
Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have
Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
Though you hear now, too late—yet now's a time—
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.

10

Timon of Athens
[III, 2]

First Stranger

1014

We know him for no less, though we are but strangers
to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and
which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's
happy hours are done and past, and his estate
shrinks from him.

11

Timon of Athens
[III, 4]

Titus

1214

Do you hear, sir?

12

Timon of Athens
[III, 6]

Second Lord

1449

In like manner was I in debt to my importunate
business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am
sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my
provision was out.

13

Timon of Athens
[III, 6]

Third Lord

1489

Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it?

14

Timon of Athens
[IV, 2]

First Servant

1607

Hear you, master steward, where's our master?
Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

15

Timon of Athens
[IV, 3]

Timon

1815

Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,
Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear
Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
The immortal gods that hear you,—spare your oaths,
I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,
Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs
With burthens of the dead;—some that were hang'd,
No matter:—wear them, betray with them: whore still;
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,
A pox of wrinkles!

16

Timon of Athens
[V, 1]

Timon

2363

Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured
That he's a made-up villain.