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Romeo and Juliet Act III
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DIAVOORSTELLING AFSPELEN
LEES MIJ VOOR
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"Thou wretched boy that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence."
"This shall determine that."
"O, I am Fortune's fool!"
"Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.A Thursday let it be. A Thursday, tell her,She shall be married to this noble earl."
"Immediately we do exile him hence."
"Can heaven be so envious."
"Romeo can, Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo, Whoever would have thought it? Romeo!"
Ah weraday, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, he's gone, he's killed, he's dead.
"There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk."
"O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where's my lady's lord? Where's Romeo?"
"Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love, And bid her — mark you me — on Wednesday next —But, soft, what day is this?"
"These times of woe afford no times to woo.- Madam, goodnight. Commend me to your daughter"
"Monday, my lord."
"I will, and know her mind early tomorrow; Tonight she is mewed up to her heaviness."
"God in heaven bless her!You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so."
"Good father, I beseech you on my knees,Hear me with patience but to speak a word."
"Hang thee, young baggage. Disobedient wretch! I tell thee what. Get thee to church a Thursday,Or never after look me in the face."
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