Anon thou shall feel my wrath you knavish, heavy-headed clotpole. Aye thou art, but soft, thy whole family is too. Thou cannot discourse and for that I think we are the happy ones because we Montagues have our own ways. I plague on you house and would that house hence from Verona. I would thou family, my foe, will be dispatched. Curse thy intentions to bring peace among us you worthless, iron-witted moldwarp. Seek for counsel, because when we meet again, nay one would be happy. Dont eer invite us to your wretched, clay-brained dogfish parties you bawdy, eye-offending remnant. I eer want to see any of thy Capulet, fat-kidneyed faces around Montague territory or your hind will be toast. I will mark thy every movement thou make in our ground you greasy, paper-faced egg-shell. Be careful whence walk or thou shall not walk again, attend to my counsel and maybe you roynish, mad-bread malignancy might still be physically able to do anything. Peevish, muddy-mettled nut-hook dont reply to this letter because I dont like talking to sottish, rump-fed ruffian, withal, my privy which is to resolve my will to take your piteous undeserved wealth. Attend as I say my adieus for I shall keep trying hard to dispatch my foe, the Capulets, and keep it as a privy thou shall not be granted because that plagued family are all prating, ill-composed hempseed. Adieu my evil English foe, for shall I wish we never discourse again for I dislike it very much.
House of Montagues,