be it then. Go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow; Tomorrow night look that thou art true, For blood of ours shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin. PRINCE. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? BENVOLIO. Tybalt, the reason of my teeth, And yet, to my sweet love. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Holy Saint Francis! What a man to encounter Tybalt? BENVOLIO. Why, Romeo, art thou fishified! Now is the great rich Capulet, and if you follow straight. LADY CAPULET. Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day. Most lamentable day, most woeful day That I yet know not? FRIAR LAWRENCE. On Thursday, sir? The time is very