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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 |
Cymbeline
[I, 1] |
Posthumus Leonatus |
94 |
Please your highness,
I will from hence to-day.
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2 |
Cymbeline
[I, 1] |
Pisanio |
228 |
I humbly thank your highness.
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3 |
Cymbeline
[I, 5] |
Cornelius |
497 |
Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam:
[Presenting a small box]
But I beseech your grace, without offence,—
My conscience bids me ask—wherefore you have
Commanded of me those most poisonous compounds,
Which are the movers of a languishing death;
But though slow, deadly?
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4 |
Cymbeline
[I, 5] |
Cornelius |
518 |
Your highness
Shall from this practise but make hard your heart:
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.
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5 |
Cymbeline
[I, 6] |
Iachimo |
614 |
Change you, madam?
The worthy Leonatus is in safety
And greets your highness dearly.
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6 |
Cymbeline
[IV, 3] |
Pisanio |
2838 |
Sir, my life is yours;
I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress,
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
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7 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
First Lady |
3440 |
We did, so please your highness.
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8 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
Caius Lucius |
3458 |
Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool,
have threaten'd
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Augustus lives to think on't: and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat; my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd: never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which I make bold your highness
Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman: save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
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9 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
Imogen |
3486 |
I humbly thank your highness.
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10 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
Imogen |
3501 |
He is a Roman; no more kin to me
Than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
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11 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
Belarius |
3781 |
So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes—
For such and so they are—these twenty years
Have I train'd up: those arts they have as I
Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment: I moved her to't,
Having received the punishment before,
For that which I did then: beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason: their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
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