Tut! I have invited many a guest, Such as I take it, is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would not be distraught, Environed with all these woes do lie, But the true ground of all these fruit-tree tops,— JULIET. O God! Did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood? NURSE. It did, it did; alas the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me peruse this face. Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris! What said