Romeo - Son to Montague:
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on, The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark. Here's to my love!
[drinks the poison]
Romeo - Son to Montague:
O true apothecary, Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss - I die.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 09:34
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