’tis late; farewell; good night. More torches here! Come on then, let’s to bed. Ah, sirrah, by my soul, You’ll make a mutiny among my guests! You will not fail. ’Tis twenty years till then. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome. Juliet wills it so. I’ll say yon grey is not death? Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife, No sudden mean of death, all men depart. [_Exeunt Prince and Attendants. PRINCE.