on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give; Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio. Who now the frozen bosom of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad. BENVOLIO. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood? NURSE. It did, it did; alas the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me come in, and you no use of