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JULIET:
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Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
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Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner
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As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
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And bring in cloudy night immediately.
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Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
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That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo
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Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
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Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
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By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
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It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
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Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
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And learn me how to lose a winning match,
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Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
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Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
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With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
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Think true love acted simple modesty.
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Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
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For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
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Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
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Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
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Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
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Take him and cut him out in little stars,
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And he will make the face of heaven so fine
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That all the world will be in love with night
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And pay no worship to the garish sun.
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O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
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But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
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Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
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As is the night before some festival
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To an impatient child that hath new robes
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And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
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And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
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But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
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Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
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That Romeo bid thee fetch?
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Nurse:
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Ay, ay, the cords.
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JULIET:
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Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
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Nurse:
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Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
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We are undone, lady, we are undone!
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Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
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JULIET:
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Can heaven be so envious?
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Nurse:
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Romeo can,
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Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!
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Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
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JULIET:
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What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
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This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
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Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'
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And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
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Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
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I am not I, if there be such an I;
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Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'
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If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:
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Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
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Nurse:
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I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,--
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God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:
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A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
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Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
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All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.
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JULIET:
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O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
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To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
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Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
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And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
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Nurse:
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O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
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O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
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That ever I should live to see thee dead!
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JULIET:
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What storm is this that blows so contrary?
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Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
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My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?
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Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
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For who is living, if those two are gone?
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Nurse:
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Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
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Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
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JULIET:
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O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
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