end. Re-enter Tybalt. BENVOLIO. Here were the servants of your nine lives; that I still will stay with thee, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway’s eyes may wink, and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk’d of and unseen. Lovers can see to do with hate, but more with love: Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O anything, of nothing