START: And what does this flimsy whimsy...

START: And what does this flimsy whimsy want from life? Adventure? Respect? No… all she wants is this flopsome fop cos once he wrote her a poem and compared her to a flower. Is that what you think women want?
[...]
END: ‘Oh Romeo, Romeo, lend me your dagger so I can kill myself – for though I’m young and healthy and have everything to live for – and I only met you a week ago – my life’s not worth living now you’ve gone.’ Really? It’s hogswill. Juliet is a noodle. Who wrote that twaddle anyway?

For full extended monologue, please refer to the script edition cited here:
Jessica Swale, Nell Gwynn, NHB Modern Plays, electronic edition, p.49