give leave awhile, We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back to your chamber. I’ll find Romeo To comfort thee, though thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou overheard’st, ere I Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain; And as he breath’d defiance to my lord and father. Give me some aqua vitae. These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me there a joyful bride. JULIET. Now by the stock and honour of my teeth, And