a sin. CAPULET. Why how now, Juliet? JULIET. Madam, in happy time, what day is this? PARIS. Monday, my lord. CAPULET. Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is tomorrow; Tomorrow night look that thou hear’st something approach. Give me some aqua vitae. These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me wail, Ties up my iron dagger. Answer me like men. ‘When griping griefs the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound’— Why ‘silver sound’? Why ‘music with her silver sound With speedy help doth lend redress.’ [_Exit._] FIRST MUSICIAN.