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 Choose either this most subtle poison here, Or this sharp glistering dagger for your heart.

He places a phial upon the table and a poignard beside it.

My father, why so cruel and so heartless? Oh, call you this a father's love?

Impatient still I wait thy choice.

If choice be mine, then, neither, Sir. Yet I would not die, but live for Romeo.

Traitress! Since prayers and threats are vain, I tell thee I would rather see thee dead Than Romeo's wife—that vile Montesco boy! Choose, then, 'twixt steel and poison'd draught. Thine eyes and glowing cheek confess thy shame, And heap dishonour on our noble name.

If to love Romeo be a crime, oh, Sir, Then living let me sin; but seek my love,