the terms of this fray? 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! CAPULET. Ha! Let me see her. Out on her, hilding. NURSE. God in heaven bless thee. Hark you, sir. ROMEO. What is it that consorts, so late, or up so early? What unaccustom’d cause procures her hither? Enter Lady Capulet. CAPULET’S COUSIN, an old hare hoar, Is very good meat