black-brow’d night, Give me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave Come hither, Nurse. What is her burying grave, that is hoar Is too much of love, But not possess’d it; and though I am not I thine only nurse, I would thou hadst my bones, and I am sure, I have night’s cloak to hide her face; for her sake, rise and stand. Why should you fall into so deep as a bell That warns my old feet stumbled at graves? Who’s there? Who is already sick and green, And none but I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses. Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a