The Expiration

SO, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away; Turn, thou ghost, that way, and let me turn this, And let ourselves 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 killed thee, Ease me with death, by bidding me go too. Or, if it have, let my word work on me, And a just office on a murderer do. Except it be too late, to kill me so, Being double dead, going, and bidding, "Go."