She should be taken to the family tomb... and lay some rosemary on her.
Everything that was going to be used for the wedding, will now be used for the funeral.
Sir, Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris... go prepare, to follow this fair corse unto her grave.
Musicians, O musicians, play "Heart's ease." It will comfort me.
'Tis no time to play now. We will not play it for you.
Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I'll re you, I'll fa you. Do you note me?
Then have at you with my wit. Answer me like men.*Sings* When griping griefs the heart doth woundAnd doleful dumps the mind oppressThen music with her silver sound-Why "music with her silver sound"? All of you, answer.
Pray you, put up your dagger and put out your wit.
I say... well, I don't know what to say.
I say "silver sound" because musicians sound for silver.
I say because silver has a sweet sound.
O, I cry you mercy. You are the singers after all. It is "music with her silver sound" because musicians have no gold for sounding.*continues singing and exits*