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 tonight.
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been abed an hour ago.
Everything has gone so badly, sir, that we haven’t had
any time to speak with Juliet about marrying you. She loved her cousin Tybalt
dearly, as did I. Well, we were all born to die. It’s very late, she won’t be
coming downstairs tonight. In fact, if I wasn’t meeting with you I’d have
gone to bed an hour ago.
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
Painful times provide no chance for love. Lady Capulet,
good night. Speak well of me to your daughter.
I will, and know her mind early tomorrow.
Tonight she is mewed up to her heaviness.
I will. And I’ll find out how she feels about marrying
you early tomorrow. Tonight she is locked in her room with her sadness.
* * * *
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?
Sir Paris, I’ll make a desperate present of my child’s
love. I think she’ll do whatever I tell her to I say. No, I’m sure she will.
Wife, go to see her before you go to bed. Explain to her how my son Paris
loves her. And tell her, listen to me, on Wednesday—Wait—What day is today?
Monday, my lord.
Monday, my lord.
20 * * * *
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?
Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. Make it
Thursday. On Thursday, tell her, she’ll be married to this noble earl. Will
you be ready, Paris? Are you opposed to rushing in this way? We won’t have a
big party, inviting just a friend or two. Because Tybalt was just killed,
people might think that we didn’t care enough about our cousin if celebrate
too much. Therefore we’ll invite just a half dozen friends to the wedding,
and no more. So, what do you say to Thursday?
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
My lord, I wish Thursday were tomorrow.
* * * * *
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 late,
That we may call it early by and by.—
Well, get on home. Thursday it will be, then. (to LADY CAPULET) Go see Juliet
before you go to bed. Get her ready, my wife, for her wedding day. (to PARIS) Farewell, my lord.
I’m going to my bedroom. My gosh! It’s so late that in moments we will be
saying that it’s early. Good night.