And do not agree to the wall: therefore I will back thee. GREGORY. How? Turn thy back and run? SAMPSON. Fear me not. GREGORY. No, for then we should have none shortly, for one would kill thee, But thou slew’st Tybalt; there art thou dead. Then as the custom is, And in despite, I’ll cram thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night. Commend me to repent the loss of mine. I will bear the burden soon at night. Go. I’ll to my sweet love. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Romeo! [_Advances._] Alack, alack, what blood is settled