Doing more murthers in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.—
Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.
Scene II.
Friar Laurence's Cell
Enter Friar John