Iul. Romeo

Rom. My Neece

Iul. What a clock to morrow
Shall I send to thee?
Rom. By the houre of nine

Iul. I will not faile, 'tis twenty yeares till then,
I haue forgot why I did call thee backe

Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it

Iul. I shall forget, to haue thee still stand there,
Remembring how I Loue thy company

Rom. And Ile still stay, to haue thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this

Iul. 'Tis almost morning, I would haue thee gone,
And yet no further then a wantons Bird,
That let's it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poore prisoner in his twisted Gyues,
And with a silken thred plucks it backe againe,
So louing Iealous of his liberty

Rom. I would I were thy Bird

Iul. Sweet so would I,