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“ Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate an execution As that is desperate which we would prevent. Then is it likely thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.”
“O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower; Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears”
“Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee”
“Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-abed! Why, love, I say! madam! sweetheart! why, bride! What, not a word?”
“Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!”
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