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Juliet: Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. it was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced thine ear. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
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Romeo: It was the lark, the herald of the morn: no nightingale. But if it was let me be ta'en, let me be put to death. I am content so i will have it so.
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Juliet: It is, it is!! Hie hence, be gone, away! It was the lark that sing so out of tune. Romeo: More light and light- more dark and dark our woes.
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