Scene Four
[A Room in Capulet's House]
Enter old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris.
Cap. Things have fall'n 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. 4
'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.
Par. These times of woe afford no times to woo. 8
Madam, good-night: commend me to your daughter.
Lady Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender 12
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; 16
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next—
But, soft! what day is this?
Par. Monday, my lord.
Cap. Monday, ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon;
O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, 20
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, 24
2 move: propose anything to
6 promise: assure
11 mew'd: shut
heaviness: grief
12 desperate: reckless
tender: offer
