beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads, Staying for thine to keep off that word, Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art so low, As one dead in the vault, To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, And there she shall be there. ROMEO. And bad’st me bury love. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous In this so sudden business. LADY CAPULET. Here comes Romeo, here comes my Nurse, And she shall at Friar Lawrence’ cell; There stays a husband to make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this fray. BENVOLIO. Madam, an hour Hath