A room in Capulet's house.Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS CAPULET Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter:Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.
'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago.PARIS These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.LADY CAPULET I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.CAPULET Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--But, soft! what day is this? PARIS Monday, my lord, CAPULET Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two;For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much:Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there an end.But what say you to Thursday? PARIS My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.CAPULET Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then.
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewell, my lord.Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me! it is so very very late, That we may call it early by and by.
Good night.
