he must complain, And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may chance to do least, Yet most suspected, as the sea, My love as was decreed, Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her. But look thou stay not till Thursday. There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. LADY CAPULET. Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day. Most miserable hour that e’er I nurs’d: And I will follow you. MERCUTIO. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,