A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
I must hear from thee every day i’ the hour, For in a minute there are many days: O, by this count I shall be much in years Ere I again behold my Romeo!
Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare,— It is enough I may but call her mine.
Then all alone At the prefixed hour of her waking Came I to take her from her kindred’s vault; Meaning to keep her closely at my cell Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: But when I came,—some minute ere the time Of her awaking,—here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
There are no more uses of "minuteness" in the play.