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| Friar Lawrence |
Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night |
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Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? |
| Balthasar |
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. |
| Friar Lawrence |
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, |
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What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light |
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To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, |
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It burneth in the Capel's monument. |
| Balthasar |
It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, |
| Friar Lawrence |
Who is it? |
| Friar Lawrence |
How long hath he been there? |
| Balthasar |
Full half an hour. |
| Friar Lawrence |
Go with me to the vault. |
| Balthasar |
I dare not, sir |
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My master knows not but I am gone hence; |
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And fearfully did menace me with death, |
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If I did stay to look on his intents. |
| Friar Lawrence |
Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: |
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O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. |
| Balthasar |
As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, |
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I dreamt my master and another fought, |
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And that my master slew him. |
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Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains |
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The stony entrance of this sepulchre? |
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What mean these masterless and gory swords |
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To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? |
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Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? |
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And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour |
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Is guilty of this lamentable chance! |
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