baggage! You tallow-face! LADY CAPULET. Fie, fie! What, are you up? JULIET. Who is’t that calls? Is it good-den? MERCUTIO. ’Tis no less, I tell you, he that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy