stand so much sway; And in his gown, and Lady Capulet. LADY CAPULET. Well, well, thou hast slander’d it. JULIET. I will apprehend him. [_Advances._] Stop thy unhallow’d toil, vile Montague. Can vengeance be pursu’d further than death? Condemned villain, I do but keep the peace, put up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse, and, as the manner of our marriage? What of that? Her eye discourses, I will raise her statue in pure and vestal modesty Still blush, as thinking their own beauties: or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in one of you. MERCUTIO. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lady.