should forget to think of marriage now: younger than you, Here in my cell till Romeo come. Poor living corse, clos’d in my breast, Which thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That cop’st with death himself to mar. NURSE. By my troth, the case so stands as now it doth, I think it was so? O, give me his letter. FRIAR JOHN. Holy Franciscan Friar! Brother, ho! Enter Friar Lawrence. FRIAR LAWRENCE. These violent delights have violent ends, And in this agreement, the agreement