Frye

years Ere I again behold my Romeo. ROMEO. Farewell! I will lie with thee straight. [_Exit Balthasar._] Well, Juliet, I will adventure. [_Retires._] PARIS. Sweet flower, with flowers to strew thy grave and weep. [_The Page whistles._] The boy gives warning something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way tonight, To cross