The scene division is editorial, and it’s clear that the action is continuous between 1.1 and 1.2; it’s not implausible to imagine it as having happened in real time, given that Capulet goes with the Prince to be admonished half way through 1.1, and then is reporting this to Paris as they enter at the beginning of the following scene. The location doesn’t matter, and it might as well be the public, exterior world of the brawl, a Verona street.

Together, these two scenes make up the play’s first movement, and account for over 10% of its lines. (Precisely 4 of those lines have been spoken by women.) And almost all of the conversations between men in 1.2 (as well as some of those in 1.1) have been about women: Capulet and Paris talking first about Juliet, and then about the hotness of the party guest-list; Benvolio and Romeo talking about Rosaline. There’s a lot of speculation and idealisation, and almost no concession of any kind of agency or autonomy. (That’s the 1590s for you.) Are Benvolio and Romeo having the same conversation as Capulet and Paris? Not quite. They’re more self-aware: they know that they are talking about talking about girls as well as talking about girls, that is, they’re being self-consciously witty and a bit ironic too. They’re also performing friendship rather than just competing over status. They are young; Capulet is not, but still tries to talk the talk. The business with the servant allows Romeo to do a bit of comedy as well as be kind, and both of these are important notes for his character.

After the all-hands-on-deck brawl in the middle of 1.1, 1.2 contains a pair of duets, with the comic trio in the middle. The servant provides the link between the two, as well as that vital information of the guest-list. It’s fantastically economical in its construction – easy to rehearse, swift to stage. Go Shakespeare.