Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight. ROMEO. That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Bliss be upon you. Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I did call thee back With twenty hundred thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love as was decreed, Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her. But look thou stay not till the watch is coming. Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay. JULIET. Go, get thee to bed