But Soft, What Light Through Yonder Window Beaks

But Soft, What Light Through Yonder Window Beaks:

JULIET (the cat):

‘Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:

And yet no further than a wanton’s bird;

Who lets it hop a little from her hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ROMEO (the bird):

I would I were thy bird.

JULIET:

Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Real big-deal Shakespeare, suggested by sender-inner Jeff K., photo by Cynthia B.