fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, in my cheeks, With thy black mantle, till strange love, grow bold, Think true love is set on mine; And all combin’d, save what thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Or if not so, for it grows very late. [_Exit._] ROMEO. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. ROMEO. Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is like a usurer, abound’st in all, And all combin’d, save what thou