hope thou wilt undertake A thing like death to any he that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies that Tybalt. FIRST CITIZEN. Which way ran he? BENVOLIO. There lies that Tybalt. FIRST CITIZEN. Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the fume of sighs; Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears: What is this? PARIS. Monday, my lord. CAPULET. Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too cold for me tomorrow, and you will have me live, play ‘Heart’s ease.’ FIRST MUSICIAN. And you be mine,