Awake, Dear Heart, Awake. Thou Hast Slept

Fortune Is Painted Blind, With A Muffler Afore Her Eyes, To Signify To You That Fortune Is Blind.

Sorrow, Like A Heavy Ringing Bell, Once Set On Ringing, With Its Own Weight Goes; Then Little Strength Rings Out The Doleful Knell.

That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect, For Slander's Mark Was Ever Yet The Fair; The Ornament Of Beauty Is Suspect, A Crow That Flies In Heaven's Sweetest Air.

But She Makes Hungry Where She Most Satisfies.

Benvolio- "by My Head, Here Come The Capulets." Mercutio- "by My Heel, I Care Not.