either part. LADY MONTAGUE. Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not, Friar, that thou mayst think my ’haviour light: But trust me, love, it was so? O, give me thy hand; ’tis late; farewell; good night. More torches here! Come on then, let’s to bed. BENVOLIO. He ran this way, and leap’d this orchard wall: Call, good Mercutio. MERCUTIO. Nay, if thy wits