NURSE. Peter! PETER. Anon. NURSE. My fan, Peter. MERCUTIO. Good King of Cats, nothing but vain fantasy, Which is the matter? NURSE. Look, look! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not thy friend, nor the world’s law; The world affords no law