Romeo and Juliet, Act 3, Scene 4

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 tonight. I promise you, but for your company, I would have been abed an hour ago.

Things have turned out so unluckily, sir, that we have had no time to persuade our daughter. Look, she loved her relative Tybalt dearly, and so did I. Well, we were born to die. It is very late; she will not come down tonight. I assure you, if it were not for your company, I would have been in bed an hour ago.

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

These times of grief leave no time for courting. Madam, good night. Give my regards to your daughter.

I will, and know her mind early tomorrow; Tonight she’s mew’d up to her heaviness.

I will, and I will find out what she thinks early tomorrow; tonight she is shut up alone with her sorrow.

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?

Sir Paris, I will make a bold offer of my child's love. I think she will be guided by me in every way; no, more than that, I have no fear of it. Wife, go to her before you go to bed, tell her about my son Paris's love, and tell her, mark what I say, that next Wednesday— but wait, what day is this?

Monday, my lord.

Monday, my lord.

Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, A 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?

Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. Let it be Thursday; tell her that on Thursday she will be married to this noble earl. Will you be ready? Do you like this speed? We will make no great fuss about it — a friend or two — because, listen, since Tybalt was killed so recently, it might be thought we cared little for him, seeing he was our relative, if we celebrate too much. So we will have some half a dozen friends, and that will be all. But 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. A 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.

Well, off you go. Thursday it will be then. Go to Juliet before you go to bed, wife, and get her ready for this wedding day. Farewell, my lord. — A light for my bedroom, there! Believe me, it is so very, very late that soon we may call it early. Good night.