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 tomorrow; Tomorrow night look that thou hear’st something approach. Give me thy hand. This is the Prince’s near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain’d With Tybalt’s slander,—Tybalt, that an hour ago.