ROMEO: ... Truly, I will. Let me take a look at this face.
It's Mercutio's relative, noble Count Paris!
What did my man say as we rode here? My battered mind wasn't listening. He told me Paris was to have married Juliet. Did he not? Or did I dream it? Or have I gone mad, hearing Juliet's name?
Oh Paris, bitter misfortune had us both in her book. I'll bury you in a magnificent grave.
A grave? No! A lighthouse, slaughtered youth...
For here is Juliet, and her beauty fills this vault with light.
Corpse, lie here. A dead man buries you.