Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rom. I would I were thy Bird.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Sweet so would I,
Iul. Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing:
Iul. Good night, good night.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. Parting is such sweete sorrow,
Rom. That I shall say goodnight, till it be morrow.
Iul. Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace in thy brest.
Rom. Would I were sleepe and peace so sweet to rest,
Rom. The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night,
Rom. Checkring the Easterne Clouds with streakes of light,
Rom. And darkenesse fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles,
Rom. From forth dayes pathway, made by Titans wheeles.
Rom. Hence will I to my ghostly Fries close Cell,
Rom. His helpe to craue, and my deare hap to tell.
Rom. Exit.
Rom. [Act 2, Scene 3]