the valour of a gun, Did murder her, as that within my breast. ROMEO. O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JULIET. What satisfaction canst thou have with me? MERCUTIO. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s the fairer face. NURSE. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman. NURSE. Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say, Two may keep counsel, putting one away?