in the night; And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes: This is dear mercy, and thou a poperin pear! Romeo, good night. This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night. [_Exit._] ROMEO. A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear about new eBooks.