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Act III, Scene 1
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford No better term than this,--Thou art a villain.
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting.
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
But love thee better than thou canst devise Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: And so good Capulet,--which name I tender As dearly as mine own,--be satisfied.
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
I am for you.
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Come, sir, your passado.
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