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JULIET:
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Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
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Is she not down so late, or up so early?
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What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
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LADY CAPULET:
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Why, how now, Juliet!
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JULIET:
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Madam, I am not well.
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LADY CAPULET:
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Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
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What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
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An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
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Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
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But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
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JULIET:
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Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
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LADY CAPULET:
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So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
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Which you weep for.
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JULIET:
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Feeling so the loss,
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Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
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LADY CAPULET:
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Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
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As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
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JULIET:
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What villain madam?
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LADY CAPULET:
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That same villain, Romeo.
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JULIET:
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LADY CAPULET:
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That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
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JULIET:
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Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
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Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
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LADY CAPULET:
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We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
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Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
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Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
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Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
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That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
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And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
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JULIET:
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Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
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With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--
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Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
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Madam, if you could find out but a man
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To bear a poison, I would temper it;
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That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
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Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
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To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
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To wreak the love I bore my cousin
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Upon his body that slaughter'd him!
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LADY CAPULET:
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Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
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But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
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JULIET:
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And joy comes well in such a needy time:
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What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
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LADY CAPULET:
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Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
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One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
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Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
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That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.
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JULIET:
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Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
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LADY CAPULET:
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Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
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The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
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The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
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Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
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JULIET:
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Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
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He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
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I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
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Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
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I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
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I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
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It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
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