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How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily.

      — Cymbeline, Act II Scene 2

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1-14 of 14 total

KEYWORD: word

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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

227

Why, then, we kill all our women:
we see how mortal an unkindness is to them;
if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

2

Antony and Cleopatra
[I, 3]

Cleopatra

399

Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:
Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it;
That you know well: something it is I would,
O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
And I am all forgotten.

3

Antony and Cleopatra
[I, 4]

Messenger

476

Caesar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
With keels of every kind: many hot inroads
They make in Italy; the borders maritime
Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt:
No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon
Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
Than could his war resisted.

4

Antony and Cleopatra
[II, 2]

Octavius

739

You may be pleased to catch at mine intent
By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother
Made wars upon me; and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.

5

Antony and Cleopatra
[II, 2]

Domitius Enobarus

945

Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she replied,
It should be better he became her guest;
Which she entreated: our courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak,
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
And for his ordinary pays his heart
For what his eyes eat only.

6

Antony and Cleopatra
[II, 5]

Cleopatra

1193

I am paid for't now.
Lead me from hence:
I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter.
Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination, let him not leave out
The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly.
[Exit ALEXAS]
Let him for ever go:—let him not—Charmian,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas
[To MARDIAN]
Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian,
But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.

7

Antony and Cleopatra
[II, 7]

Menas

1411

[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word.

8

Antony and Cleopatra
[II, 7]

Menas

1414

[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech
thee, captain,
And hear me speak a word.

9

Antony and Cleopatra
[III, 1]

Ventidius

1581

I'll humbly signify what in his name,
That magical word of war, we have effected;
How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks,
The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
We have jaded out o' the field.

10

Antony and Cleopatra
[IV, 12]

Antony

2899

Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine
does stand,
I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
Straight, how 'tis like to go.

11

Antony and Cleopatra
[IV, 13]

Charmian

2965

To the monument!
There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
The soul and body rive not more in parting
Than greatness going off.

12

Antony and Cleopatra
[IV, 13]

Cleopatra

2969

To the monument!
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,'
And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death.
To the monument!

13

Antony and Cleopatra
[IV, 14]

Diomedes

3137

Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw—
Which never shall be found—you did suspect
She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
I dread, too late.

14

Antony and Cleopatra
[IV, 15]

Antony

3220

One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

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