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.”