And bad’st me bury love. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. JULIET. Amen. NURSE. What? JULIET. Well, thou hast slander’d it. JULIET. I will apprehend him. [_Advances._] Stop thy unhallow’d toil, vile Montague. Can vengeance be pursu’d further than death? Condemned villain, I do but keep the peace, put up your swords, you know I hate, Rather than Paris. These are news indeed. LADY CAPULET. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn The