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So early walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made; but he was ware of me,

110

And stole into the covert of the wood:
I, measuring his affections by my own,
That most are busied when they’re most alone,
Pursu’d my humour not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.
What stops Benvolio from approaching Romeo?