Juliet - Daughter to Capulet:
Art thou gone so? My lord, my love, my friend. Oh, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
Romeo - Son to Montague:
I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve, For sweet discourses in our time to come.
Juliet - Daughter to Capulet:
O God, I have an ill-divining soul. Methinks I see thee now, thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Romeo - Son to Montague:
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
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05/03/2025 alle ore 07:05
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