Romeo But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun"
Benvolio Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Romeo Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipped and tormented and — [Romeo and Benvolio notice the servant who has approached them] Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant Romeo [Romeo reads] Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant [Exit servant] Benvolio Romeo Benvolio Romeo [Exit] Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "bound more than a madman"
Benvolio Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; One pain is lessened 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 plantain 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 madman is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipped and tormented and — [Romeo and Benvolio notice the servant who has approached them] Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant Romeo [Romeo reads] Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant Romeo Servant [Exit servant] Benvolio Romeo Benvolio Romeo [Exit] Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "Plantain leaf", "broken shin"
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. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "meddle", "yard", "last", "pencil"
Capulet 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-apparelled 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 Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "earth-treading stars"
Capulet The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she; She's the hopeful lady of my earth. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "earth", "hope"
Paris Younger than she are happy mothers made. Capulet And too soon marred are those so early made. The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she; She's the hopeful lady of my earth. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "And too soon marr'd are those so early made"
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. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "Let two more summers wither in their pride"