But with a rearward following Tybalt’s death, “Romeo is banished,” to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead. “Romeo is banished!” There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word’s death; no words can that woe sound. Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse: Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment. Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: He made you for a highway to my bed; But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come, cords, come, nurse; I’ll to my wedding-bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Hie to your chamber: I’ll find Romeo To comfort you: I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: I’ll to him; he is hid at Laurence’ cell.