Shall I send to thee?
By the hour of nine.
I will not fail. 'Tis twenty year till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Let me stand here till thou remember it.
175I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
'Tis almost morning. I would have thee gone.
180And yet no further than a wanton’s bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silken thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
185I would I were thy bird.
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 JULIET, above