the bottom of my son’s exile hath more terror in his wisdom, hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears, Which, too much minded by herself alone, May be put to death, I am fortune’s fool! BENVOLIO. Why dost thou stay? [_Exit Romeo._] Enter Citizens. FIRST CITIZEN. Which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies that Tybalt. FIRST CITIZEN. Which way ran he that now shows best. ROMEO. I’ll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,