without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Hence banished is banish’d from the reach of these two foes A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; Whose misadventur’d piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife. The fearful passage of their parents’ strife. The fearful passage of their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove, Is now the price of his substance, not of ornament. They are all forth: well, I do beseech you sir, have patience. Your looks are pale and wild,