Romeo and Juliet


Scene IV

William Shakespeare

A Room in Capulet’s House.


Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Look you, she lov’d 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.

These times of woe afford no tune to woo.—
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.

I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she’s mew’d up to her heaviness.

Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child’s love: I think she will be rul’d
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?

                                Monday, my lord.

Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
Thursday let it be;—a 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?

My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.

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.


Romeo and Juliet - Contents    |     Act III - Scene V

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