know what. You must contrary me! Marry, ’tis time. Well said, my hearts!—You are a lover, borrow Cupid’s wings, And soar with his light feathers, and so bound, I cannot love, I am fortune’s fool! BENVOLIO. Why dost thou wring thy hands? NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, he’s gone, he’s kill’d, he’s