A Street.

Enter Capulet, Paris and Servant.rnrnCAPULET.rnBut Montague is bound as well as I,rnIn penalty alike; and ’tis not hard, I think,rnFor men so old as we to keep the peace.rnrnPARIS.rnOf honourable reckoning are you both,rnAnd pity ’tis you liv’d at odds so long.rnBut now my lord, what say you to my suit?rnrnCAPULET.rnBut saying o’er what I have said before.rnMy child is yet a stranger in the world,rnShe hath not seen the change of fourteen years;rnLet two more summers wither in their pridernEre we may think her ripe to be a bride.rnrnPARIS.rnYounger than she are happy mothers made.rnrnCAPULET.rnAnd too soon marr’d are those so early made.rnThe earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,rnShe is the hopeful lady of my earth:rnBut woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,rnMy will to her consent is but a part;rnAnd she agree, within her scope of choicernLies my consent and fair according voice.rnThis night I hold an old accustom’d feast,rnWhereto I have invited many a guest,rnSuch as I love, and you among the store,rnOne more, most welcome, makes my number more.rnAt my poor house look to behold this nightrnEarth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:rnSuch comfort as do lusty young men feelrnWhen well apparell’d April on the heelrnOf limping winter treads, even such delightrnAmong fresh female buds shall you this nightrnInherit at my house. Hear all, all see,rnAnd like her most whose merit most shall be:rnWhich, on more view of many, mine, being one,rnMay stand in number, though in reckoning none.rnCome, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge aboutrnThrough fair Verona; find those persons outrnWhose names are written there, [_gives a paper_] and to them say,rnMy house and welcome on their pleasure stay.rnrn [_Exeunt Capulet and Paris._]rnrnSERVANT.rnFind them out whose names are written here! It is written that thernshoemaker should meddle with his yard and the tailor with his last, thernfisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent tornfind those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find whatrnnames the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned. In goodrntime!rnrn Enter Benvolio and Romeo.rnrnBENVOLIO.rnTut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning,rnOne pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish;rnTurn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;rnOne desperate grief cures with another’s languish:rnTake thou some new infection to thy eye,rnAnd the rank poison of the old will die.rnrnROMEO.rnYour plantain leaf is excellent for that.rnrnBENVOLIO.rnFor what, I pray thee?rnrnROMEO.rnFor your broken shin.rnrnBENVOLIO.rnWhy, Romeo, art thou mad?rnrnROMEO.rnNot mad, but bound more than a madman is:rnShut up in prison, kept without my food,rnWhipp’d and tormented and—God-den, good fellow.rnrnSERVANT.rnGod gi’ go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?rnrnROMEO.rnAy, mine own fortune in my misery.rnrnSERVANT.rnPerhaps you have learned it without book.rnBut I pray, can you read anything you see?rnrnROMEO.rnAy, If I know the letters and the language.rnrnSERVANT.rnYe say honestly, rest you merry!rnrnROMEO.rnStay, fellow; I can read.rnrn [_He reads the letter._]rnrn_Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;rnCounty Anselmo and his beauteous sisters;rnThe lady widow of Utruvio;rnSignior Placentio and his lovely nieces;rnMercutio and his brother Valentine;rnMine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters;rnMy fair niece Rosaline and Livia;rnSignior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt;rnLucio and the lively Helena. _rnrnrnA fair assembly. [_Gives back the paper_] Whither should they come?rnrnSERVANT.rnUp.rnrnROMEO.rnWhither to supper?rnrnSERVANT.rnTo our house.rnrnROMEO.rnWhose house?rnrnSERVANT.rnMy master’s.rnrnROMEO.rnIndeed I should have ask’d you that before.rnrnSERVANT.rnNow I’ll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet,rnand if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray come and crush arncup of wine. Rest you merry.rnrn [_Exit._]rnrnBENVOLIO.rnAt this same ancient feast of Capulet’srnSups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov’st;rnWith all the admired beauties of Verona.rnGo thither and with unattainted eye,rnCompare her face with some that I shall show,rnAnd I will make thee think thy swan a crow.rnrnROMEO.rnWhen the devout religion of mine eyernMaintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire;rnAnd these who, often drown’d, could never die,rnTransparent heretics, be burnt for liars.rnOne fairer than my love? The all-seeing sunrnNe’er saw her match since first the world begun.rnrnBENVOLIO.rnTut, you saw her fair, none else being by,rnHerself pois’d with herself in either eye:rnBut in that crystal scales let there be weigh’drnYour lady’s love against some other maidrnThat I will show you shining at this feast,rnAnd she shall scant show well that now shows best.rnrnROMEO.rnI’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,rnBut to rejoice in splendour of my own.rnrn [_Exeunt._]