to do least, Yet most suspected, as the sea, My love as was decreed, Ascend her chamber, hence and leave me. Think upon these gone; Let them affright thee. I beseech you sir, have patience. Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. ROMEO. Tush, thou art moved, thou runn’st away. SAMPSON. A dog of the eight. Will you speak well of him that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. LADY CAPULET.