1 Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day.
2 Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd.
3 My life were better ended by their hate Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
4 Proud can I never be of what I hate; But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
5 I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.
6 By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee.
7 I pray you tell my lord and father, madam, I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, Rather than Paris.
8 Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate.