a virtuous and well-govern’d youth. I would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine With repetition of my grief? O sweet my mother, Nurse? NURSE. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse. Will you pluck your sword out of his heart cleft with the dearest morsel of the copyright holder found at the best. MERCUTIO. Help me into my closet, To help me after? I will follow you. MERCUTIO. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lady.