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16 BOMEO AND JULIET. Montague. I would tliou wert so happy by tliy stay, To hear true slirif t. — Come, madam, let's away. [^Exeunt Montague and Lady. Benvolio. Good morrow, cousin. Romeo. Is the day so young ? Benvolio. But new struck nine. Romeo. Ay me ! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast ? Benvolio. It was. What sadness lengthens Borneo's hours ? Romeo. Not having that which, having, makes them short. Benvolio. In love ? Romeo. Out — Benvolio. Of love ? Romeo. Out of her favor, where I am in love. Benvolio. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof ! Romeo. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will ! Where si: all we dine ? — O me ! what fray was here ? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, brawling love ! loving hate ! O anything, of nothing first created ! heavy lightness ! serious vanity ! IMisshapen chaos of well-seeming forms '