Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rom. It is my Lady, O it is my Loue, O that she knew she were,
Rom. She speakes, yet she sayes nothing, what of that?
Rom. Her eye discourses, I will answere it:
Rom. I am too bold 'tis not to me she speakes:
Rom. Two of the fairest starres in all the Heauen,
Rom. Hauing some businesse do entreat her eyes,
Rom. To twinckle in their Spheres till they returne.
Rom. What if her eyes were there, they in her head,
Rom. The brightnesse of her cheeke would shame those starres,
Rom. As day‑light doth a Lampe, her eye in heauen,
Rom. Would through the ayrie Region streame so bright,
Rom. That Birds would sing, and thinke it were not night:
Rom. See how she leanes her cheeke vpon her hand.
Rom. O that I were a Gloue vpon that hand,
Rom. That I might touch that cheeke.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Ay me.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. She speakes.
Rom. Oh speake againe bright Angell, for thou art