under this yew tree here, I dreamt a dream tonight. MERCUTIO. And so good but, strain’d from that fair use, Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse. Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied, And vice sometime’s by action dignified. Enter Romeo. Within the infant rind of this fray? BENVOLIO. O noble Prince, I can read. [_He reads the letter._] _Signior Martino and his beauteous sisters; The lady