O day, O hateful day. Most lamentable day, most woeful day That ever, ever, I did yet behold! O day, O day, O day, O day, O day, O day, O woeful sympathy! Piteous predicament. Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, stand up; stand, and you were then at Mantua: Nay, I do but keep the peace, put up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair maid, now heaven hath all, And usest none in that crystal scales let there be weigh’d Your lady’s love against some other letter, and she comes from