SCENE II. A street. Romeo and Juliet  Shakespeare homepage  |  Romeo and Juliet  | Act 1, Scene 2 

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 Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant  CAPULET  But Montague is bound as well as I, 

 In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, 

 For men so old as we to keep the peace. 

 PARIS  Of honourable reckoning are you both; 

 And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. 

 But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? 

 CAPULET  But saying o'er what I have said before: 

 My child is yet a stranger in the world; 

 She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, 

 Let two more summers wither in their pride, 

 Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. 

 PARIS  Younger than she are happy mothers made. 

 CAPULET  And too soon marr'd are those so early made. 

 The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, 

 She is the hopeful lady of my earth: 

 But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, 

 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, 

 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 

 Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: 

 Such comfort as do lusty young men feel 

 When well-apparell'd April on the heel 

 Of limping winter treads, even such delight 

 Among fresh female 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 

 May stand in number, though in reckoning none, 

 Come, go with me. 



 To Servant, giving a paper  Go, sirrah, trudge about 

 Through fair Verona; find those persons out 

 Whose names are written there, and to them say, 

 My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. 



 Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS  Servant  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 here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. 



 Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO  BENVOLIO  Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, 

 One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; 

 Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; 

 One desperate grief cures with another's languish: 

 Take thou some new infection to thy eye, 

 And the rank poison of the old will die. 

 ROMEO  Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. 

 BENVOLIO  For what, I pray thee? 

 ROMEO  For your broken shin. 

 BENVOLIO  Why, Romeo, art thou mad? 

 ROMEO  Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; 

 Shut up in prison, kept without my food, 

 Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. 

 Servant  God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? 

 ROMEO  Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. 

 Servant  Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I 

 pray, can you read any thing you see? 

 ROMEO  Ay, if I know the letters and the language. 

 Servant  Ye say honestly: rest you merry! 

 ROMEO  Stay, fellow; I can read. 



 Reads  'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; 

 County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady 

 widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely 

 nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine 

 uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece 

 Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin 

 Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair 

 assembly: whither should they come? 

 Servant  Up. 

 ROMEO  Whither? 

 Servant  To supper; to our house. 

 ROMEO  Whose house? 

 Servant  My master's. 

 ROMEO  Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. 

 Servant  Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the 

 great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house 

 of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. 

 Rest you merry! 



 Exit  BENVOLIO  At this same ancient feast of Capulet's 

 Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, 

 With all the admired beauties of Verona: 

 Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, 

 Compare her face with some that I shall show, 

 And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. 

 ROMEO  When the devout religion of mine eye 

 Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; 

 And these, who often drown'd could never die, 

 Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! 

 One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun 

 Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. 

 BENVOLIO  Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, 

 Herself poised with herself in either eye: 

 But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd 

 Your lady's love against some other maid 

 That I will show you shining at this feast, 

 And she shall scant show well that now shows best. 

 ROMEO  I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, 

 But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. 



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