To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?— [Enters the tomb.
Romeo! O, pale!—Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?—Ah, what an [unkind] hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—
The lady stirs. [Juliet wakes.
Juliet. O [comfortable] friar! where is my lord?—
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am.—Where is my Romeo? [Noise within.
Friar Laurence. I hear some noise.—Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;