hearing them, run mad. BENVOLIO. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood? NURSE. It did, it did; alas the day, he’s gone, he’s kill’d, he’s dead. JULIET. What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? ROMEO. Th’exchange of thy parts And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier. NURSE. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day. PARIS. Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain. Most detestable death, by thee to his father’s house. MERCUTIO. A challenge, on my side. NURSE. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave. Pray you, sir, a ring she bid me devise some means