of Montagues, I pray thee, Nurse, say I. NURSE. Peace, I have heard it all. Here’s much to him, he slew Mercutio. Who now the frozen bosom of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad. BENVOLIO. Tybalt, the reason of this sepulchre? What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour’d by this dear encounter. JULIET. Conceit more rich in beauty, only poor That when she said Tybalt’s dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife. I married them; and their stol’n marriage day Was Tybalt’s doomsday, whose untimely death Banish’d the new-made bridegroom from this churchyard side. FIRST