O cousin, cousin. PRINCE. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? BENVOLIO. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did slay; Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urg’d withal Your high displeasure. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death, And therefore