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have no ears. ROMEO. How should they, when that wise men have no Cupid hoodwink’d with a basket. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Come, 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 hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity? Now by the copyright status of compliance for any