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KEYWORD: thou

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# 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	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 1]	Pistol	145	Ha, thou mountain-foreigner! Sir John and Master mine, I combat challenge of this latten bilbo. Word of denial in thy labras here! Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest!
2	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 3]	Pistol	324	O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?
3	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 3]	Falstaff	363	O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass! Here's another letter to her: she bears the purse too; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go bear thou this letter to Mistress Page; and thou this to Mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
4	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 3]	Pistol	384	Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds, And high and low beguiles the rich and poor: Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk!
5	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 3]	Pistol	389	Wilt thou revenge?
6	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 3]	Pistol	402	Thou art the Mars of malecontents: I second thee; troop on.
7	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 4]	Fenton	536	How now, good woman? how dost thou?
8	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 4]	Fenton	542	Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? shall I not lose my suit?
9	Merry Wives of Windsor [I, 4]	Fenton	554	Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me.
10	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Mistress Page	614	What? thou liest! Sir Alice Ford! These knights will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry.
11	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Pistol	678	With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou, Like Sir Actaeon he, with Ringwood at thy heels: O, odious is the name!
12	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Mistress Ford	710	How now, sweet Frank! why art thou melancholy?
13	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Mistress Ford	712	Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head. Now, will you go, Mistress Page?
14	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Host	761	What sayest thou, my bully-rook?
15	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Host	768	Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavaleire?
16	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 1]	Host	773	My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and regress; —said I well?—and thy name shall be Brook. It is a merry knight. Will you go, An-heires?
17	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 2]	Falstaff	799	Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow Nym; or else you had looked through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends, you were good soldiers and tall fellows; and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour thou hadst it not.
18	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 2]	Pistol	808	Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?
19	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 2]	Falstaff	809	Reason, you rogue, reason: thinkest thou I'll endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for you. Go. A short knife and a throng! To your manor of Pickt-hatch! Go. You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue! you stand upon your honour! Why, thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the terms of my honour precise: I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour! You will not do it, you!
20	Merry Wives of Windsor [II, 2]	Pistol	824	I do relent: what would thou more of man?

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