She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, 16
My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, 20
Whereto I have invited many a guest
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night 24
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparel'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight 28
Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be:
Which on more view, of many mine being one 32
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me. [To Servant, giving him a paper.] Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, and to them say, 36
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
Exeunt [Capulet and Paris].
Serv. Find them out whose names are written
here! It is written that the shoemaker should
meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his
last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter
with his nets; but I am sent to find those
persons, whose names are here writ, and can
never find what names the writing person hath
15 hopeful; cf. n.
29 fennel; cf. n.
30 Inherit: receive
32–33 Cf. n.
