HE JESTS AT SCARS THAT NEVER FELT A WOUND BUT SOFT, WHAT LIGHT THROUGH YONDER WINDOW BREAKS? IT IS THE EAST AND JULIET IS THE SUN! ARISE, FAIR SUN, AND KILL THE ENVIOUS MOON; AY ME! SHE SPEAKS. O, SPEAK AGAIN, BRIGHT ANGEL, FOR THOU ART AS GLORIOUS TO THIS NIGHT, BEING O'ER MY HEAD, AS IS A WINGED MESSENGER OF HEAVEN