JULIET. Love give me occasion. MERCUTIO. Could you not take some occasion without giving? TYBALT. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo. MERCUTIO. Consort? What, dost thou wring thy hands? NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, it did. JULIET. O thinkest thou we shall come too late. ROMEO. I would forget it fain, But O, it