Benvolio

Both his movements and his stillness immediately announced to Benvolio’s fine sense that he was blind. In his quality of poet Benvolio was inventive; a brain that is constantly cudgelled for rhymes is tolerably alert. In a few moments, therefore, he had given a vigorous push to the wheel of fortune. Various things had happened. He had made a soft, respectful speech, he hardly knew about what; and the old man had told him he had a delectable voice—-a voice that seemed to belong rather to a person of education than to a tradesman’s porter.