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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 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 1] |
Proteus |
12 |
Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness
When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.
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2 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 1] |
Valentine |
20 |
And on a love-book pray for my success?
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3 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 1] |
Valentine |
22 |
That's on some shallow story of deep love:
How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
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4 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 1] |
Proteus |
142 |
Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck,
Which cannot perish having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on shore.
[Exit SPEED]
I must go send some better messenger:
I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.
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5 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 2] |
Lucetta |
167 |
Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
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6 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 2] |
Julia |
170 |
Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
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7 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 2] |
Julia |
175 |
And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
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8 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 2] |
Lucetta |
222 |
I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.
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9 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 2] |
Julia |
263 |
Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away.
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names.
Thus will I fold them one on another:
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
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10 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 3] |
Proteus |
365 |
As one relying on your lordship's will
And not depending on his friendly wish.
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11 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[I, 3] |
Antonio |
378 |
Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee:
No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go.
Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.
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12 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Valentine |
401 |
Not mine; my gloves are on.
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13 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
416 |
Marry, by these special marks: first, you have
learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms,
like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a
robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had
the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had
lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had
buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes
diet; to watch like one that fears robbing; to
speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were
wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you
walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you
fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you
looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you
are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look
on you, I can hardly think you my master.
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14 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
434 |
Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you
were so simple, none else would: but you are so
without these follies, that these follies are within
you and shine through you like the water in an
urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a
physician to comment on your malady.
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15 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
441 |
She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper?
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16 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Valentine |
444 |
Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet
knowest her not?
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17 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
470 |
Your own present folly and her passing deformity:
for he, being in love, could not see to garter his
hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.
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18 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
525 |
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
My master sues to her, and she hath
taught her suitor,
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himself should write
the letter?
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19 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 1] |
Speed |
560 |
Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can
feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my
victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like
your mistress; be moved, be moved.
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20 |
Two Gentlemen of Verona
[II, 3] |
Launce |
593 |
Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping;
all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I
have received my proportion, like the prodigious
son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's
court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured
dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father
wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat
wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed
one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and
has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have
wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam,
having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my
parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This
shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:
no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that
cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so, it
hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in
it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance
on't! there 'tis: now, sit, this staff is my
sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and
as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I
am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the
dog—Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so,
so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing:
now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping:
now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now
come I to my mother: O, that she could speak now
like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there
'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down. Now
come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now
the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a
word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.
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