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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 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Hostess |
10 |
I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.
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2 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Lord |
16 |
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds;
Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd;
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
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3 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
First Huntsman |
22 |
Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
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4 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
First Huntsman |
30 |
I will, my lord.
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5 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Second Huntsman |
33 |
He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.
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6 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Lord |
45 |
Even as a flatt'ring dream or worthless fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures;
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet;
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And with a low submissive reverence
Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
Let one attend him with a silver basin
Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
Some one be ready with a costly suit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease;
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic,
And, when he says he is, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.
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7 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
First Huntsman |
70 |
My lord, I warrant you we will play our part
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is.
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8 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Lord |
90 |
With all my heart. This fellow I remember
Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;
'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.
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9 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Player |
107 |
Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world.
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10 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 1] |
Lord |
109 |
Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
And give them friendly welcome every one;
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
[Exit one with the PLAYERS]
Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page,
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady;
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
Tell him from me- as he will win my love-
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished;
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say 'What is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty and make known her love?'
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed
To see her noble lord restor'd to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar.
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which, in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions. Exit a SERVINGMAN
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait, and action, of a gentlewoman;
I long to hear him call the drunkard 'husband';
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. Exeunt
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11 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
152 |
I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor 'lordship.' I
ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves,
give me conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear,
for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than
legs, nor no more shoes than feet- nay, sometime more feet than
shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
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12 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
213 |
Am I a lord and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things.
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed,
And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' th' smallest ale.
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13 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
226 |
These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
But did I never speak of all that time?
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14 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
First Servant |
228 |
O, yes, my lord, but very idle words;
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house,
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts.
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
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15 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
242 |
Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
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16 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Page |
246 |
How fares my noble lord?
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17 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
247 |
Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
Where is my wife?
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18 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Christopher Sly |
250 |
Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
My men should call me 'lord'; I am your goodman.
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19 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Page |
252 |
My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
I am your wife in all obedience.
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20 |
Taming of the Shrew
[Prologue, 2] |
Page |
265 |
Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two;
Or, if not so, until the sun be set.
For your physicians have expressly charg'd,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I should yet absent me from your bed.
I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
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