Mount: I would thou wert so happie by thy stay 80
To heare true shrift. Come Madame lets away.
Benuo: Good morrow Cosen.
Romeo: Is the day so young?
Ben: But new stroke nine.
Romeo: Ay me, sad hopes seeme long. 85
Was that my Father that went hence so fast?
Ben: It was, what sorrow lengthens Romeos houres?
Rom: Not hauing that, which hauing makes them short.
Ben: In loue.
Ro: Out. 90
Ben: Of loue.