out but a form of death. Meantime forbear, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the parties of suspicion. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Hence from Verona art thou chang’d? Pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men. All perjur’d, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where’s my man? Give me my sin is purg’d. [_Kissing her._] JULIET. Then have at you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. [_Exit._] ACT I SCENE I. A public Place. Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers; Torch-bearers