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Slajd: 1
What, drawn and talk of peace? i hate the word as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.
I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword, or manage it ot part theese men with me.
Part, fools! Put up your swords. You know not what you do.
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio; Look upon thy death.
Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy I will bear the light.
Slajd: 2
Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Slajd: 3
I say he shall. What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to. Am I the master here or you? Go to. You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul, You'll make a mutiny among my guests, you will set cock-a-hoop, you'll be the man!
It fits when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him.

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