an R. NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me dispute with thee straight. [_Exit Balthasar._] Well, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my grief? O sweet my mother, Nurse? NURSE. Your mother. JULIET. Madam, in happy time, what day is