Nurse

There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old
Shame come to Romeo


JULIET

Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him

Nurse

Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin



JULIET

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it


Shakespeare