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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
[III, 5] |
Queen |
2016 |
Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN]
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized her,
Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, she's flown
To her desired Posthumus: gone she is
To death or to dishonour; and my end
Can make good use of either: she being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
[Re-enter CLOTEN]
How now, my son!
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2 |
Cymbeline
[V, 2] |
(stage directions) |
2986 |
[Enter, from one side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and]
the Roman Army: from the other side, the
British Army; POSTHUMUS LEONATUS following,
like a poor soldier. They march over and go
out. Then enter again, in skirmish, IACHIMO
and POSTHUMUS LEONATUS he vanquisheth and disarmeth
IACHIMO, and then leaves him]
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3 |
Cymbeline
[V, 3] |
(stage directions) |
3021 |
[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and a British Lord]
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4 |
Cymbeline
[V, 3] |
(stage directions) |
3115 |
[Enter two British Captains and Soldiers]
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5 |
Cymbeline
[V, 5] |
Cymbeline |
3950 |
Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward: let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's-town march:
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace.
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6 |
King Lear
[III, 4] |
Edgar |
1978 |
Child Rowland to the dark tower came;
His word was still
Fie, foh, and fum!
I smell the blood of a British man.
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7 |
King Lear
[IV, 4] |
Messenger |
2539 |
News, madam.
The British pow'rs are marching hitherward.
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8 |
King Lear
[IV, 6] |
Oswald |
2867 |
Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,
And give the letters which thou find'st about me
To Edmund Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out
Upon the British party. O, untimely death! Death!
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