ICBMs

hour. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Bliss be upon you. Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond gentleman? NURSE. The son and heir more early down. MONTAGUE. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. Grief of my joy Must be my wedding bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off, When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour;