Indeed, I never shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him⁠—dead⁠— Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex’d: Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it; That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors To hear him named, and cannot come to him, To wreak the love I bore my cousin Upon his body that hath slaughter’d him!

Find thou the means, and I’ll find such a man. But now I’ll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

And joy comes well in such a needy time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, That thou expect’st not nor I look’d not for.