| ACT ISCENE II | A street. | |
| | 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; | 5 |
| | 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, | 10 |
| | 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, | 15 |
| | 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. | 20 |
| | 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 | 25 |
| | 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 | 30 |
| | 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. | 35 |
| | 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 | 40 |
| | 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 | 45 |
| | 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: | 50 |
| | 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. | 55 |
| 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? | 60 |
| 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! | 65 |
| 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 | 70 |
| | 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. | 75 |
| 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. | 80 |
| 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 | 85 |
| | 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. | 90 |
| 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 | 95 |
| | 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 | 100 |
| | 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. | |
| | Exeunt | |
