Pari. Younger then she, are happy mothers made

Capu. And too soone mar'd are those so early made:

Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,

Shee's the hopefull Lady of my earth:

But wooe her gentle Paris, get her heart,

My will to her consent, is but a part,

And shee agree, within her scope of choise,

Lyes my consent, and faire according voice:

This night I hold an old accustom'd Feast,

Whereto I haue inuited many a Guest,

Such as I loue, and you among the store,

One more, most welcome makes my number more:

At my poore house, looke to behold this night,

Earth-treading starres, that make darke heauen light,

Such comfort as do lusty young men feele,

When well apparrel'd Aprill on the heele

Of limping Winter treads, euen such delight

Among fresh Fennell buds shall you this night

Inherit at my house: heare all, all see:

And like her most, whose merit most shall be:

Which one more veiw, of many, mine being one,

May stand in number, though in reckning none.

Come, goe with me: goe sirrah trudge about,

Through faire Verona, find those persons out,

Whose names are written there, and to them say,

My house and welcome, on their pleasure stay.

Enter.

Ser. Find them out whose names are written. Heere it

is written, that the Shoo-maker should meddle with his

Yard, and the Tayler with his Last, the Fisher with his

Pensill, and the Painter with his Nets. But I am sent to

find those persons whose names are writ, & can neuer find

what names the writing person hath here writ (I must to

the learned) in good time.

Enter Benuolio, and Romeo.

Ben. Tut man, one fire burnes out anothers burning,

One paine is lesned by anothers anguish:

Turne giddie, and be holpe by backward turning:

One desparate greefe, cures with anothers languish:

Take thou some new infection to the eye,

And the rank poyson of the old wil die

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