So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Mercutio. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
Romeo. I am too sore [enpierced] with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers, and, so [bound],
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe;
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
Mercutio. And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Romeo. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,