JULIET.
A thousand times good night.
[Exit.]
ROMEO.
A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books,
But love from love, towards school with heavy looks.
[Retiring slowly.]
Re-enter Juliet, above.
JULIET.
Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer’s voice
To lure this tassel-gentle back again.
Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud,
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
With repetition of my Romeo’s name.
ROMEO.
It is my soul that calls upon my name.
How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears.
JULIET.
Romeo.
ROMEO.
My nyas?
JULIET.
What o’clock tomorrow
Shall I send to thee?