Romeo and Juliet Act 3 Scene 4
A room in Capulet's house. Late at night.
The Original
Plain Modern English
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.
Capulet
Things have turned out so unluckily, sir,
that we've had no time to raise the subject with our daughter.
You see, she loved her cousin Tybalt dearly,
and so did I. — Well, we're all born to die.
It's very late; she won't come down tonight.
I promise you, if it weren't for your company
I'd have been in bed an hour ago.
Paris
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
Paris
Times of grief leave no time for courting.
Madam, good night. Give my regards to your daughter.
Lady Capulet
I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
Lady Capulet
I will, and I'll find out her feelings early tomorrow.
Tonight she's shut away with her grief.
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?
Capulet
Sir Paris, I'll make you a bold offer
of my child's love. I think she'll be guided
by me in everything — in fact, I'm certain of it.
Wife, go to her before you go to bed.
Tell her about my son Paris's love,
and tell her — listen carefully — that next Wednesday—
wait, what day is it today?
Paris
Monday, my lord,
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?
Capulet
Monday! Ha — well, Wednesday's too soon.
Let's make it Thursday. Tell her that on Thursday
she'll be married to this noble count.
Will you be ready? Do you mind the rush?
We won't make a big affair of it — a friend or two.
Because, you see, Tybalt was killed so recently
that people might think we didn't care about him,
our own relative, if we celebrate too much.
So we'll have half a dozen friends
and leave it at that. So — what do you say to Thursday?
Paris
My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
Paris
My lord, I wish Thursday were tomorrow.
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.
Capulet
Well, off you go. Thursday it is, then.
Go to Juliet before you go to bed,
wife — prepare her for this wedding day.
Farewell, my lord. — Light to my room!
Good heavens, it's so very, very late
that soon we'll be calling it early.
Good night.
Exeunt.