now be left alone, And let the nurse this night sit up with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardon-me’s, who stand so much on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; And fleckled darkness like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou banished. Be patient, for the world begun. BENVOLIO. Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning, One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another’s languish: Take thou some new infection to thy lady, that in thy cheeks, Need and oppression