1 I would the fool were married to her grave.
2 Go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris.
3 Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.
4 If he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
5 I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this County.
6 Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, I think it best you married with the County.
7 She's not well married that lives married long, But she's best married that dies married young.
8 But as I said, On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
9 Bid her devise Some means to come to shrift this afternoon, And there she shall at Friar Lawrence cell Be shriv'd and married.
10 God mark thee to his grace Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: And I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
11 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.
12 I pray 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.
13 When, and where, and how We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, That thou consent to marry us today.
14 Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content; And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, Find written in the margent of his eyes.
15 I married them; and their stol'n marriage day Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city; For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
16 If, rather than to marry County Paris Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, Then is it likely thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That cop'st with death himself to scape from it.
17 Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me, and like me banished, Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
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