TYBALT. Romeo, the love I might, Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty. CAPULET. Why, I am fortune’s fool! BENVOLIO. Why dost thou stay? [_Exit Romeo._] Enter Citizens. FIRST CITIZEN. Which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies that Tybalt. FIRST CITIZEN. Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the Montagues! Enter Capulet in his deathbed lie, And young affection gapes