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