So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,
Which s**s two souls, and vapors both away,
Turn thou ghost that way, and let me turn this,
And let our selves benight our happiest day,
We ask none leave to love; nor will we owe
Any, so cheap a d**h, as saying, "Go."
"Go." and if that word have not quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with d**h, by bidding me go too.
Oh, if it have, let my word work on me,
And a just office on a murderer do.
Except it be too late, to k** me so,
Being double dead, going, and bidding, "Go."