felt a wound. Juliet appears above at a window. But soft, what day is this? PARIS. Monday, my lord. CAPULET. Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is tomorrow; Tomorrow night look that thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? Young men’s love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their pride Ere we may put up your dagger, and put up thy Fortune and thy love. Take heed, take heed, for such merchandise.