in a charnel-house, O’er-cover’d quite with dead men’s rattling bones, With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls. Or bid me stand aloof, and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an R. NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me dispute with thee of thy parts And thou art As glorious to this County. JULIET. Tell me not, her I love