Two households both alike in dignity,
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In fair Verona where we lay our scene,
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From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
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Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
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From forth to fatal loins of these two foes,
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Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
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Doth with their death bury their life parents strife.
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The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
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Which, but their children's end, naught could remove,
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Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
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The which if you with patient ears attend,
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What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
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When Will My Life Begin
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| 7 Seconds |