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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 |
Troilus and Cressida
[I, 1] |
Troilus |
103 |
What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?
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2 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
880 |
Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.
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3 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
882 |
I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had
the scratching of thee; I would make thee the
loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in
the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.
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4 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
887 |
Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,
and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as
Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou
barkest at him.
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5 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 1] |
Thersites |
899 |
Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no
more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego
may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art
here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and
sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.
If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and
tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no
bowels, thou!
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6 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1215 |
How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of
thy fury! Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He
beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!
would it were otherwise; that I could beat him,
whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of
my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a
rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two
undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of
themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,
Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy
caduceus, if ye take not that little, little less
than little wit from them that they have! which
short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant
scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly
from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and
cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the
whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for that,
methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war
for a placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy
say Amen. What ho! my Lord Achilles!
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7 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1239 |
If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou
wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but
it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common
curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in
great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and
discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy
direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee
out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and
sworn upon't she never shrouded any but lazars.
Amen. Where's Achilles?
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8 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Patroclus |
1249 |
What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?
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9 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Achilles |
1254 |
Where, where? Art thou come? why, my cheese, my
digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to
my table so many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?
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10 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1261 |
Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,
what art thou?
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11 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Thersites |
1279 |
Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou
art. Look you, who comes here?
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12 |
Troilus and Cressida
[II, 3] |
Ulysses |
1462 |
Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.
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13 |
Troilus and Cressida
[III, 1] |
Pandarus |
1519 |
Friend, we understand not one another: I am too
courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose request
do these men play?
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14 |
Troilus and Cressida
[IV, 2] |
Pandarus |
2388 |
Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou
art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father,
and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death;
'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.
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15 |
Troilus and Cressida
[IV, 5] |
Agamemnon |
2595 |
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant
And hale him hither.
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16 |
Troilus and Cressida
[IV, 5] |
Hector |
2739 |
Why, then will I no more:
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so
That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds in my father's;' by Jove multipotent,
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay
That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
Cousin, all honour to thee!
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17 |
Troilus and Cressida
[IV, 5] |
Ajax |
2759 |
I thank thee, Hector
Thou art too gentle and too free a man:
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.
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18 |
Troilus and Cressida
[IV, 5] |
Achilles |
2865 |
Thou art too brief: I will the second time,
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
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19 |
Troilus and Cressida
[V, 1] |
Thersites |
2944 |
Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk:
thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.
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20 |
Troilus and Cressida
[V, 1] |
Thersites |
2960 |
No! why art thou then exasperate, thou idle
immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet
flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's
purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered
with such waterflies, diminutives of nature!
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