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I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

      — A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act II Scene 1

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1-9 of 9 total

KEYWORD: thanks

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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

Cymbeline
[I, 6]

Imogen

618

Thanks, good sir:
You're kindly welcome.

2

Cymbeline
[I, 6]

Iachimo

637

Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones
Upon the number'd beach? and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul?

3

Cymbeline
[I, 6]

Iachimo

661

Thanks, madam; well.
[To PISANIO]
Beseech you, sir, desire
My man's abode where I did leave him: he
Is strange and peevish.

4

Cymbeline
[I, 6]

Iachimo

811

My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
To entreat your grace but in a small request,
And yet of moment to, for it concerns
Your lord; myself and other noble friends,
Are partners in the business.

5

Cymbeline
[II, 3]

Imogen

1083

Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
For purchasing but trouble; the thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks
And scarce can spare them.

6

Cymbeline
[III, 5]

Caius Lucius

1945

Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence;
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.

7

Cymbeline
[III, 6]

Belarius

2219

Prithee, fair youth,
Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd!
'Tis almost night: you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart: and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.

8

Cymbeline
[III, 6]

Imogen

2262

Thanks, sir.

9

Cymbeline
[V, 4]

All

3271

Thanks, Jupiter!

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