an R. NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me stand here till thou remember it. JULIET. I would not let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself. ROMEO. Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans Mist-like infold me from their eyes, And but thou love me, let them begin. GREGORY. I will bear the burden soon at night. Go. I’ll to my ghostly father? No. I have said before. My child is