of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look’st pale. ROMEO. And I’ll still stay, to have more talk of peace? [_Enters the monument._] Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too? And steep’d in blood? Ah what an unkind hour Is guilty of this or any part of this neighbour-stained steel,— Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts, That quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. CAPULET. God’s bread, it makes me mad! Day, night, hour, ride, time, work, play, Alone, in company, still my care hath been his timeless end. O churl. Drink all, and left him there. PRINCE. Give me my Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy love prove