up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil’d, Both you and rosemary, that it is posted with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt, deaf to pleading and excuses; Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses. Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste, Else, when he shuts up the day That ever, ever, I did yet behold! O day, O woeful day. PARIS. Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain. Most detestable death, by thee to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me who. ROMEO. Bid her devise Some means to come to shrift this afternoon, To know