Balthasar. Then [she is well], and nothing can be ill;
Her body sleeps in [Capel's] monument
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault
And [presently] took post to tell it you.
O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Romeo. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!—
Thou know'st my lodging; get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses. I will hence to-night.