h love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing
hing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shape
os of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke cold health!Still-waking sleep that is notTHE what it is! This love feel 2014 - 2015 SEASON FALLON THEATRE
no love in this. Dost thou not laugh? But, soft! what light thro
der window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun. Arise,
and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with
t thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, s
is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none b
s do wearOCTOBER it; cast it16off. It is my//lady, it is my love! O, that s - 26, 2014 THE O, FALLON THEATRE
w she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? He
ourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speak of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business,
t her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if
were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek wo
me those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
uld through the airy region stream so bright That birds would
think it were not night.See, how she leans her cheek upon he
d!O, that I were aglove upon that hand,That I might touch th
ek!