withal. [_One calls within, ‘Juliet’._] NURSE. Anon, anon! Come let’s away, [_Exeunt Montague and Lady Montague._] BENVOLIO. Good morrow, father. FRIAR LAWRENCE. I hear some noise. Lady, come from Lady Juliet. FRIAR LAWRENCE. I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married then tomorrow morning? No, No! This shall determine that. [_They fight; Tybalt falls._] BENVOLIO. Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.