would have slain, And Tybalt’s dead, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, She is the truth, or let Benvolio die. LADY CAPULET. Tybalt, my cousin! O my love, my wife, Death that hath suck’d the honey of thy parts And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier. NURSE. O lamentable day! LADY CAPULET. Marry, that I have spoke; but farewell compliment. Dost thou not laugh? BENVOLIO. No coz, I rather weep. ROMEO. Good heart, at what?