I Cannot Do It Without Comp[u]ters.

He Jests At Scars That Never Felt A Wound.

Chewing The Food Of Sweet And Bitter Fancy.

For What Is Wedlock Forced But A Hell, An Age Of Discord And Continual Strife? Whereas The Contrary Bringeth Bliss, And Is A Pattern Of Celestial Peace.

Why, There's A Wench! Come On, And Kiss Me, Kate.

For Mercutio's Soul Is But A Little Way Above Our Heads, Staying For Thine To Keep Him Company: Either Thou, Or I, Or Both, Must Go With Him.