ROMEO.
By the hour of nine.
JULIET.
I will not fail. ’Tis twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
ROMEO.
Let me stand here till thou remember it.
JULIET.
I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
ROMEO.
And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
JULIET.
’Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone,
And yet no farther than a wanton’s bird,
That lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
ROMEO.
I would I were thy bird.
JULIET.
Sweet, so would I:
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
[Exit.]
ROMEO.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast.
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.
Hence will I to my ghostly Sire’s cell,
His help to crave and my dear hap to tell.