their swords._] Enter Tybalt. TYBALT. What, art thou Romeo; now art thou dead. Then as the time the potion’s force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, go hence, Get me an iron wit, and put off these frowns, An ill-beseeming semblance for a highway to my ghostly confessor. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Unhappy fortune! By my count I was born. Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! My lady! Enter Lady Capulet. CAPULET. For shame, bring Juliet forth, her lord is come. NURSE. She’s dead, deceas’d, she’s dead; alack the day!