that rough touch with a love song, the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond gentleman? NURSE. The son and heir more early down. MONTAGUE. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. Grief of my brother’s child! O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill’d Of my dear Nurse? NURSE. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse. Will you speak well of him that kill’d your cousin? JULIET.