The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
A pair of star-crossed lovers.
There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?
So quick bright things come to confusion.