So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,
    Which ***** 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 death, as saying, Go;
Go; and if that word have not quite kil’d thee,
    Ease me with death, 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 **** me so,
    Being double dead, going, and bidding, go.