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Well, in that hit you miss. She’ll not be hit200With Cupid’s arrow. She hath Dian’s wit.And, in strong proof of chastity well armedFrom love’s weak childish bow, she lives uncharmed.
Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,So soon forsaken? Young men’s love then liesNot truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
o' then dear saint lets lip do what hands do they pray: grant thou least faith turn to despair
they kiss
wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose love
gave thee mine before thou didst request it and yet I wound it were to give again
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet.As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,60And all combined, save what thou must combineBy holy marriage. When and where and how
But I can give thee more,315For I will raise her statue in pure gold,That whiles Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.