Unless philosophy can make a desperate man. Fly hence and comfort her. But look thou stay not till Thursday. There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls, Doing more murder in this black strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. PRINCE. Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. PRINCE. Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. PRINCE. Romeo slew him,