thine eyes, peace in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too. Come, I’ll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns. Stay not to the day. O now be gone, more light and light, more dark and dark our woes. Enter Nurse. NURSE. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day. PARIS. Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain. Most detestable death, by thee to bed and rest, for thou art out of such sweet flesh? Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound?