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That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years.

— King Henry IV. Part I, Act II Scene 4

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1-8 of 8 total

KEYWORD: wine

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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	Antony and Cleopatra [I, 2]	Domitius Enobarus	91	Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink.
2	Antony and Cleopatra [II, 7]	Pompey	1405	Sit,—and some wine! A health to Lepidus!
3	Antony and Cleopatra [II, 7]	Pompey	1417	[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. This wine for Lepidus!
4	Antony and Cleopatra [II, 7]	Antony	1504	Come, let's all take hands, Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense In soft and delicate Lethe.
5	Antony and Cleopatra [II, 7]	Octavius	1521	What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, Let me request you off: our graver business Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. Good Antony, your hand.
6	Antony and Cleopatra [III, 11]	Antony	2189	Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows We scorn her most when most she offers blows.
7	Antony and Cleopatra [III, 13]	Antony	2480	Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe.
8	Antony and Cleopatra [IV, 15]	Antony	3215	I am dying, Egypt, dying: Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

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