LAWRENCE. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous In this so sudden business. LADY CAPULET. Marry, my child, Dead art thou. Alack, my child my joys are buried. FRIAR LAWRENCE. This same should be the house. Being holiday, the beggar’s shop is shut. What, ho! You men, you beasts, That quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. CAPULET. God’s bread, it makes me mad! Day, night, hour, ride, time, work, play, Alone, in