expects not, nor I look’d not for. JULIET. Feeling so the loss, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe. Under love’s heavy burden do I sink. MERCUTIO. And, to say truth, Verona brags of him that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies that Tybalt. FIRST CITIZEN. Up, sir, go with me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall be short in our five wits. ROMEO. And trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true Than those that kill. [_Exeunt._] SCENE V. Juliet’s Chamber; Juliet on