Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rom. By the houre of nine.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. I will not faile, 'tis twenty yeares till then,
Iul. I haue forgot why I did call thee backe.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Iul. I shall forget, to haue thee still stand there,
Iul. Remembring how I Loue thy company.
Rom. And Ile still stay, to haue thee still forget,
Rom. Forgetting any other home but this.
Iul. 'Tis almost morning, I would haue thee gone,
Iul. And yet no further then a wantons Bird,
Iul. That let's it hop a little from his hand,
Iul. Like a poore prisoner in his twisted Gyues,
Iul. And with a silken thred plucks it backe againe,
Iul. So louing Iealous of his liberty.