Give love a prick for pricking you - that’ll beat love down. If it’s rough with you, then you should be rough with love. Is love a tender thing? No, it’s rough, abrupt, harsh, and it pricks like a thorn. You would indeed burden love if you were to sink inside of it, which is too much for a tender little thing. I’m so bound by this burden of love that I can’t go bounding around happily. I’m too sore after the wound from Cupid’s arrow to soar with his feathers. You’re a lover: go borrow Cupid’s wings and you’ll be able to soar above the rest of us. I have a soul as heavy as lead that weighs me to the ground so I can’t move. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I’m not in the mood for dancing, and since I’m feeling heavy I may as well hold up the light. We’re just here for a few dances and then we’ll take off. ![]() Nor have we memorized a prologue and designated a prompter for the lines. ![]() We don’t have one of us dressed up as blindfolded Cupid, scaring the ladies half to death with a plywood bow and arrow he borrowed from the theater props. I think that kind of theatrical wordiness is old-fashioned. So, should we make a little speech to excuse our being here, or should we just go straight in without an apology? Benvolio
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