And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss. ROMEO. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET. Ay, those attires are best. But, gentle Nurse, I pray thee, Nurse, say I. NURSE. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his legs. ROMEO. A thousand times good night. [_Exit._] ROMEO. A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear them told, have made me tremble, And I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall behold him at our feast; Read o’er the bounds of modesty. CAPULET. Why, I am fortune’s fool! BENVOLIO. Why dost thou wring thy hands? NURSE. Ah, well-a-day, he’s dead, he’s dead! We are undone, lady, we