As all the world—why, he's .
Lady Capulet. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
Lady Capulet. What say you? can you love the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
[Read o'er the volume] of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen.
Examine every [married] lineament
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies