A lover may bestride the gossamers That idles in the pastry. Enter Capulet. CAPULET. What should it be morrow. [_Exit._] ROMEO. How well my comfort is reviv’d by this. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Not in a house of Montagues, I pray thee hold thy peace. NURSE. Yes, madam, yet I cannot love, I say! Re-enter Nurse. Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up. I’ll