# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."

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.

Text The line's full text, with keywords highlighted within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.

1

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Orsino

2

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.

2

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Orsino

20

Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.
[Enter VALENTINE]
How now! what news from her?

3

Twelfth Night
[I, 1]

Valentine

28

So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
But from her handmaid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
And lasting in her sad remembrance.

4

Twelfth Night
[I, 2]

Viola

54

O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.

5

Twelfth Night
[I, 2]

Captain

55

True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you and those poor number saved with you
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself,
Courage and hope both teaching him the practise,
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
So long as I could see.

6

Twelfth Night
[I, 2]

Viola

65

For saying so, there's gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

7

Twelfth Night
[I, 2]

Captain

77

And so is now, or was so very late;
For but a month ago I went from hence,
And then 'twas fresh in murmur,—as, you know,
What great ones do the less will prattle of,—
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

8

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

124

Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am:
these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be
these boots too: an they be not, let them hang
themselves in their own straps.

9

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

138

Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the
viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages
word for word without book, and hath all the good
gifts of nature.

10

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

147

By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors
that say so of him. Who are they?

11

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

172

An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst
never draw sword again.

12

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Andrew Aguecheek

174

An you part so, mistress, I would I might never
draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have
fools in hand?

13

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Andrew Aguecheek

183

Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can
keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?

14

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

190

O knight thou lackest a cup of canary: when did I
see thee so put down?

15

Twelfth Night
[I, 3]

Sir Toby Belch

230

Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have
these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to
take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost
thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in
a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not
so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What
dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in?
I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy
leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.

16

Twelfth Night
[I, 4]

Viola

265

Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

17

Twelfth Night
[I, 4]

Viola

276

I think not so, my lord.

18

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Maria

296

Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

19

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Maria

309

Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,
to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?

20

Twelfth Night
[I, 5]

Feste

314

Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.