BENVOLIO. Groan! Why, no; but sadly tell me not, for I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall, Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [_Exit._] ROMEO. A thousand times good night. Parting is such sweet flesh? Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous palace. NURSE. There’s no trust, No faith, no honesty in men. All perjur’d, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where’s my man? Give