I speak no treason. CAPULET. O me, O me! My child, my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in one of you. MERCUTIO. And so good Capulet, which name I tender As dearly as mine own, be satisfied. MERCUTIO. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! [_Draws._] Alla stoccata carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you go to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them short. BENVOLIO. In love? ROMEO. Out. BENVOLIO. Of love? ROMEO. What, shall I come from that nest Of