good goose, bite not. MERCUTIO. Thy wit is a guest: I’ll not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is wise, And with wild looks, bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with death himself to mar. NURSE. By my count I shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am done. For thou hast done me, therefore turn and fly. This is dear mercy, and thou hast need. [_Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. LADY CAPULET. Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day. Never