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A street in Verona. Not many people are out due to the heat of midday. There are vendors lining the plaza. |
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Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO |
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Mercutio |
Where the devil should this Romeo be? |
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Came he not home to-night? |
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Benvolio |
Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. |
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Mercutio |
Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. |
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Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. |
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Benvolio |
Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, |
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Hath sent a letter to his father's house. |
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Mercutio |
A challenge, on my life. |
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Benvolio |
Romeo will answer it. |
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Mercutio |
Any man that can write may answer a letter. |
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Benvolio |
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he |
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Mercutio |
Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a |
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white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a |
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love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the |
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blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to |
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Benvolio |
Why, what is Tybalt? |
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Mercutio |
More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is |
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the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as |
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you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and |
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proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and |
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the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk |
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button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the |
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very first house, of the first and second cause: |
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ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hai! |
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Mercutio |
The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting |
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fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, |
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a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good |
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whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, |
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grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with |
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these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these |
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perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, |
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that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their |
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Benvolio |
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. |
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Mercutio |
Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, |
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how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers |
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that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a |
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kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to |
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be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; |
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Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey |
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eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior |
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Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation |
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to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit |
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Romeo |
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? |
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Mercutio |
The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? |
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Romeo |
Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in |
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such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. |
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Mercutio |
That's as much as to say, such a case as yours |
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constrains a man to bow in the hams. |
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Romeo |
Meaning, to court'sy. |
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Mercutio |
Thou hast most kindly hit it. |
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Romeo |
A most courteous exposition. |
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Mercutio |
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. |
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Romeo |
Why, then is my pump well flowered. |
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Mercutio |
Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast |
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worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it |
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is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. |
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Romeo |
O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness. |
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Mercutio |
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. |
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Romeo |
Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. |
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Mercutio |
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have |
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done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of |
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thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: |
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was I with you there for the goose? |
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Romeo |
Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast |
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Mercutio |
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. |
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Romeo |
Nay, good goose, bite not. |
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Mercutio |
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most |
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Romeo |
And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? |
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Mercutio |
O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an |
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inch narrow to an ell broad! |
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Romeo |
I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added |
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to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. |
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Mercutio |
Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? |
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now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art |
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thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: |
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for this drivelling love is like a great natural, |
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that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. |
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Benvolio |
Stop there, stop there. |
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Mercutio |
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. |
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Benvolio |
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. |
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Mercutio |
O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: |
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for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and |
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meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. |
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Romeo |
Here's goodly gear! |
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Benvolio |
Two, two; a shirt and a smock. |
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Mercutio |
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the |
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Nurse |
God ye good morrow, gentlemen. |
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Mercutio |
God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. |
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Mercutio |
'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the |
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dial is now upon the prick of noon. |
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Nurse |
Out upon you! what a man are you! |
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Romeo |
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar. |
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Nurse |
By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' |
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quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I |
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may find the young Romeo? |
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Romeo |
I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when |
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you have found him than he was when you sought him: |
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I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. |
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Mercutio |
Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; |
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Nurse |
if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. |
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Benvolio |
She will indite him to some supper. |
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Mercutio |
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! |
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Romeo |
What hast thou found? |
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Mercutio |
No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, |
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that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. |
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Is very good meat in lent |
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When it hoars ere it be spent. |
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Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll |
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Mercutio |
Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, |
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Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO |
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Nurse |
Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy |
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merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? |
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Romeo |
A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, |
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and will speak more in a minute than he will stand |
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Nurse |
An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him |
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down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such |
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Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. |
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Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am |
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none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by |
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too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? |
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Peter |
I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon |
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should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare |
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draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a |
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good quarrel, and the law on my side. |
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Nurse |
Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about |
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me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: |
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and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you |
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out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: |
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but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into |
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a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross |
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kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman |
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is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double |
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with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered |
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to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. |
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Romeo |
Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I |
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Nurse |
Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: |
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Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. |
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Romeo |
What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. |
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Nurse |
I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as |
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I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. |
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Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; |
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And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell |
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Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. |
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Nurse |
No truly sir; not a penny. |
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Romeo |
Go to; I say you shall. |
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Nurse |
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. |
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Romeo |
And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: |
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Within this hour my man shall be with thee |
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And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; |
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Which to the high top-gallant of my joy |
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Must be my convoy in the secret night. |
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Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: |
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Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. |
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Nurse |
Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. |
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Romeo |
What say'st thou, my dear nurse? |
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Nurse |
Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, |
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Two may keep counsel, putting one away? |
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Romeo |
I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. |
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Nurse |
Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, |
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Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there |
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is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain |
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lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief |
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see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her |
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sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer |
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man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks |
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as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not |
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rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? |
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Romeo |
Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. |
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Nurse |
Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for |
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the--No; I know it begins with some other |
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letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of |
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it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good |
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Romeo |
Commend me to thy lady. |
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Nurse |
Ay, a thousand times. |
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Nurse |
Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. |
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