Nurse. Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
We are undone, lady, we are undone!
Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
Juliet. Can heaven be so [envious]?
40
Nurse. Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot.—O Romeo, Romeo!—
Who ever would have thought it?—Romeo!
Juliet. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.