Speeches (Lines) for Paris
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# | Act, Scene, Line (Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
Of honourable reckoning are you both;
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2 |
Younger than she are happy mothers made. |
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3 |
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
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4 |
Monday, my lord, |
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5 |
My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. |
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6 |
My father Capulet will have it so;
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7 |
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
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8 |
Happily met, my lady and my wife! |
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9 |
That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. |
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10 |
Come you to make confession to this father? |
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11 |
Do not deny to him that you love me. |
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12 |
So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. |
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13 |
Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. |
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14 |
Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. |
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15 |
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. |
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16 |
God shield I should disturb devotion!
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17 |
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
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18 |
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
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19 |
Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:
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20 |
Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,—
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21 |
This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
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22 |
I do defy thy conjurations,
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23 |
O, I am slain!
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