| 1 | 0–68 | 515 | unassigned | | THE rawish dank of clumsy winter ramps The fluent summer's vain: and drizzling sleet Chilleth the wan bleak ch… |
| 2 | 69–142 | 542 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.76 | What had so please? Unseasoned Sycophant, Piero Sforza is no numbed Lord, Senseless of all true touch; stroke … |
| 3 | 143–201 | 508 | T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour | 0.80 | STAY gentle Luceo, and vouchsafe thy hand. O, Madam Nay, pray thee give me leave to say, vouchsafe, Submiss en… |
| 4 | 202–250 | 508 | unassigned | | darkness is fled: look, infant morn hath drawn Bright silver curtains, 'bout the couch of night: And now Auror… |
| 5 | 251–315 | 553 | unassigned | | Verily, sir Geoffrey had a monstrous strange dream the last night. For methought I dreamed I was asleep, and m… |
| 6 | 316–386 | 518 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.68 | WHO gives these ill-befitting attributes Of chaste, unspotted, bright, to Mellida, He lies as loud as thunder,… |
| 7 | 387–454 | 522 | unassigned | | 'tis reason's glory to command affects. Lies thy cold father dead, his glossed eyes New closed up by thy sad m… |
| 8 | 455–488 | 457 | T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour | 0.82 | ROT there thou cerecloth that enfolds the flesh Of my loathed foe; moulder to crumbling dust: Oblivion choke t… |
| 9 | 489–550 | 495 | unassigned | | I'll seem to wind you fool with kindest arm. He that's ambitious minded, and but man, Must have his followers … |
| 10 | 551–615 | 513 | unassigned | | My Lord, the clapper of my mouth's not glibbed With court oil, 'twill not strike on both sides yet. 'tis just … |
| 11 | 616–683 | 482 | unassigned | | My Lord, 'tis supper time. Drink deep Alberto: eat, good Lucio: But my pined heart shall eat on nought but woe… |
| 12 | 684–748 | 517 | unassigned | | O here, here is a vent to pass my sighs. I have surcharged the dungeon with my plaints. Prison, and heart will… |
| 13 | 749–818 | 499 | unassigned | | How now sweet son? good youth, what dost thou? Weep, weep. Dost nought but weep, weep? Yes mother, I do sigh, … |
| 14 | 819–886 | 524 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.79 | And call thee brother, mount thee straight to state, Make thee of counsel; tut, tut, what not, what not? Think… |
| 15 | 887–959 | 525 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.80 | Nurse, 'tis not yet proud day: The neat gay mists of the light's not up, Her cheeks not yet flurd over with th… |
| 16 | 960–1029 | 522 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.74 | Murder. Murder. Murder. ay, I will murder: graves and ghosts Fright me no more, I'll suck red vengeance Out of… |
| 17 | 1030–1064 | 499 | unassigned | | howl not thou pury mould, groan not ye graves. Be dumb all breath. Here stands Andrugio's son, Worthy his fath… |
| 18 | 1065–1125 | 483 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.72 | Truly, very pathetical, and unvulgar. Pathetical, and unvulgar; words of worth, excellent words. In sooth, Mad… |
| 19 | 1126–1194 | 495 | unassigned | | Why then should I put on the very flesh Of solid folly. No, this coxcomb is a crown Which I affect, even with … |
| 20 | 1195–1255 | 515 | unassigned | | Most just and upright in our judgement seat. Were Mellida mine eye, with such a blemish Of most loathed loosen… |
| 21 | 1256–1334 | 496 | T54 Antony and Cleopatra: love, death and mo | 0.89 | Produce the devil,; let your Strotzo come: I can defeat his strongest argument, Which With what? With tears, w… |
| 22 | 1335–1391 | 496 | unassigned | | Sweet beauty, I could sigh as fast as you, But that I know that, which I weep to know, His fortunes should be … |
| 23 | 1392–1454 | 487 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.81 | O piteous end of love: o too too rude hand Of unrespective death! Alas, sweet maid. Forbear me heaven. What in… |
| 24 | 1455–1515 | 465 | unassigned | | ANTONIO, kiss my foot: I honour thee, In laying thwart my blood upon thy breast. I tell thee boy, he was Pandu… |
| 25 | 1516–1577 | 464 | T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour | 0.71 | Have I an arm, a heart, a sword, a soul? Were you but private unto what we know I'll know it all; first let's … |
| 26 | 1578–1628 | 495 | T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour | 0.74 | HOE, who's above there, hoe? A murrain on all Proverbs. They say, hunger breaks through stone walls; but I am … |
| 27 | 1629–1692 | 509 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.80 | Nay, and you talk of revenge, my stomach's up, For I am most tyrannically hungry. A beaver? I have a headpiece… |
| 28 | 1693–1760 | 501 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.84 | Then will I dance and whirl about the air. methinks I am all soul, all heart, all spirit. Now murder shall rec… |
| 29 | 1761–1833 | 502 | T1 Death, grief and revenge | 0.83 | 'tis done, and now my soul shall sleep in rest. Sons that revenge their father's blood, are blessed. WHOSE han… |