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- I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
- Oh, think'st tho we shall ever meet again
- Your lady mother is coming to your chamber. The day is broke. Be wary, look about
- Then, window, let day in and let life out
- More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!
- O, now be gone. More light and light it grows.
- So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you cry for.
- Feeling so lost, cannot choose but ever cry the friend.
- Doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blessed, unworthy as she is, that we have wrought so worthy a gentleman to be her bride?
- Than me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, but fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next to go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green sickness, carrion! Out, you baggage! You tallow face!
- Fie, fie! What, are you mad?
- Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love
- Marry, my child, early nest Thursday morn, the gallant, young, and noble gentleman, The County Prince..
- Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself and see how he will take it at your hands
- He shall not make me there a joyful bride... I pray to you, tell my lord and father madam, I will not marry yet, and when I do, I swear it shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, rather than Paris
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