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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 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[I, 1] |
Biron |
61 |
Come on, then; I will swear to study so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus,—to study where I well may dine,
When I to feast expressly am forbid;
Or study where to meet some mistress fine,
When mistresses from common sense are hid;
Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath,
Study to break it and not break my troth.
If study's gain be thus and this be so,
Study knows that which yet it doth not know:
Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.
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2 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[I, 1] |
Biron |
123 |
[Reads] 'Item, That no woman shall come within a
mile of my court:' Hath this been proclaimed?
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3 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[I, 1] |
Biron |
300 |
I'll lay my head to any good man's hat,
These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
Sirrah, come on.
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4 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[I, 2] |
Dull |
441 |
Come, Jaquenetta, away!
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5 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[I, 2] |
Moth |
451 |
Come, you transgressing slave; away!
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6 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[II, 1] |
Maria |
526 |
I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast,
Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,
If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,
Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should none spare that come within his power.
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7 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[II, 1] |
Boyet |
655 |
So please your grace, the packet is not come
Where that and other specialties are bound:
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.
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8 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[II, 1] |
Ferdinand |
658 |
It shall suffice me: at which interview
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime receive such welcome at my hand
As honour without breach of honour may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so received
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit you again.
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9 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[II, 1] |
Princess of France |
750 |
Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed.
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10 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1] |
Moth |
800 |
A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon
the instant: by heart you love her, because your
heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her,
because your heart is in love with her; and out of
heart you love her, being out of heart that you
cannot enjoy her.
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11 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1] |
Don Adriano de Armado |
834 |
Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l'envoy; begin.
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12 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1] |
Don Adriano de Armado |
867 |
Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?
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13 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1] |
Costard |
923 |
I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.
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14 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Princess of France |
993 |
See see, my beauty will be saved by merit!
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
And out of question so it is sometimes,
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart;
As I for praise alone now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
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15 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Boyet |
1034 |
'By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible;
true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that
thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful
than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have
commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The
magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set
eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar
Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say,
Veni, vidi, vici; which to annothanize in the
vulgar,—O base and obscure vulgar!—videlicet, He
came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw two;
overcame, three. Who came? the king: why did he
come? to see: why did he see? to overcome: to
whom came he? to the beggar: what saw he? the
beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The
conclusion is victory: on whose side? the king's.
The captive is enriched: on whose side? the
beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose
side? the king's: no, on both in one, or one in
both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison:
thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness.
Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce
thy love? I could: shall I entreat thy love? I
will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes;
for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus,
expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot,
my eyes on thy picture. and my heart on thy every
part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.'
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey.
Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play:
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.
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16 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Princess of France |
1084 |
Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.
[To ROSALINE]
Here, sweet, put up this: 'twill be thine another day.
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17 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Rosaline |
1098 |
If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
Finely put on, indeed!
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18 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Rosaline |
1103 |
Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was
a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as
touching the hit it?
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19 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 1] |
Maria |
1122 |
Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.
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20 |
Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 3] |
Ferdinand |
1459 |
[Advancing] Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such;
You chide at him, offending twice as much;
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush
And mark'd you both and for you both did blush:
I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion,
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
[To LONGAVILLE]
You would for paradise break faith, and troth;
[To DUMAIN]
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
What will Biron say when that he shall hear
Faith so infringed, which such zeal did swear?
How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit!
How will he triumph, leap and laugh at it!
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
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