I will push Montague’s men from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall (1.1)
O me, what fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love. (1.1)
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes (1.1.)
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