Romeo and Juliet
Act I, Scene 2
Verona. A street.
- Enter Capulet, County Paris, and Second Servingman, the
Capulet1 - 3
- 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.
Paris4 - 6
- Of honorable reckoning are you both,
- And pity ’tis you liv’d at odds so long.
- But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
Capulet7 - 11
- 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.
- Younger than she are happy mothers made.
Capulet13 - 38
- And too soon marr’d are those so early made.
- Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;
- She’s the hopeful lady of my earth.
- But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
- My will to her consent is but a part;
- And she agreed, 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 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,
- May stand in number, though in reck’ning none.
- Come go with me.
- To Second Servingman.
- 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.
- Exit with Paris.
Second Servingman39 - 45
- 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.
Benvolio46 - 51
- Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning,
- One pain is less’ned 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.
- Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
- For what, I pray thee?
- For your broken shin.
- Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Romeo56 - 58
- Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;
- Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
- Whipt and tormented, and—God-den, good fellow.
- God gi’ god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
- Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Second Servingman61 - 62
- Perhaps you have learn’d it without book.
- But I pray, can you read any thing you see?
- Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
- Ye say honestly, rest you merry!
Romeo65 - 73
- Stay, fellow, I can read.
- He reads the letter.
- “Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme
- and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio;
- Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his
- brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and
- daughters; my fair niece Rosaline, and Livia; Signior
- Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively
- A fair assembly. Whither should they come?
- Whither? To supper?
- To our house.
- Whose house?
- My master’s.
- Indeed I should have ask’d thee that before.
Second Servingman80 - 82
- 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!
Benvolio83 - 88
- At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s
- Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so loves,
- 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.
Romeo89 - 94
- 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.
Benvolio95 - 100
- Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
- Herself pois’d 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 seems best.
Romeo101 - 102
- I’ll go along no such sight to be shown,
- But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.