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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 |
Coriolanus
[III, 1] |
Coriolanus |
1791 |
Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your fellow tribune.
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2 |
Coriolanus
[III, 1] |
Sicinius Velutus |
1794 |
You show too much of that
For which the people stir: if you will pass
To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,
Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
Or never be so noble as a consul,
Nor yoke with him for tribune.
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3 |
Coriolanus
[III, 1] |
Citizens |
1968 |
Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.
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4 |
Coriolanus
[III, 3] |
Coriolanus |
2431 |
The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people!
Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free
As I do pray the gods.
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5 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Saturninus |
51 |
How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
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6 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Titus Andronicus |
195 |
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
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7 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Marcus Andronicus |
196 |
And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That hath aspired to Solon's happiness
And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.
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8 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Saturninus |
226 |
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
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9 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Titus Andronicus |
385 |
No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonour'd all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!
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10 |
Titus Andronicus
[I, 1] |
Tamora |
530 |
Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends:
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back.
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11 |
Titus Andronicus
[III, 1] |
Lucius |
1159 |
My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
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12 |
Titus Andronicus
[III, 1] |
Titus Andronicus |
1160 |
Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear,
They would not mark me, or if they did mark,
They would not pity me, yet plead I must;
And bootless unto them [—]
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is soft as wax,—tribunes more hard than stones;
A stone is silent, and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
[Rises]
But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?
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13 |
Titus Andronicus
[IV, 2] |
Aaron |
1708 |
Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.
[Aside]
Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;
And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines,
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
But were our witty empress well afoot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit:
But let her rest in her unrest awhile.
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
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