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.
Events have turned out, sir, so badly That we have had no time to influence our daughter. Look, she loved her kinsman Tybalt deeply, And so did I. Well, we were born to die. It's very late; she won't come down tonight. I promise you, if it weren't for your company, I would have been in bed an hour ago.
Things have gone so wrong, sir, That we haven't had a chance to talk to our daughter about you. Look, she was really close to her cousin Tybalt, And I was too. Well, we all have to die sometime. It's way too late; she's not coming down tonight. Honestly, if you weren't here visiting, I'd already be asleep.
things went so wrong no time for daughter she loved tybalt we were close we all die anyway very late she won't come down i'd be in bed but ur here
These times of woe afford no tune to woo.
Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
These sorrowful times offer no music for courting. Madam, good night. Give my respects to your daughter.
Times like this with all this grief aren't right for romance. Lady Capulet, good night. Say hello to your daughter for me.
sad times no courting ladies good night say hi to ur daughter
This is the shortest scene in Acts 3-5, and it's the one that triggers the catastrophe. What's striking is how casual it is: Capulet isn't making a calculated patriarchal decision. He's a tired man at the end of a bad week, chatting with someone he likes, and he suddenly decides to move things along. The play has shown us Capulet in Act 1 as a fairly reasonable father — he told Paris to win Juliet's heart, that her consent matters, that she's young and shouldn't be rushed. By Act 3, something has shifted. Perhaps Tybalt's death has made him aware of mortality and urgency. Perhaps he's simply too tired and too used to being obeyed to think about the implications. Either way, this ten-line conversation is more fatally consequential than any villain's scheme in the play. Tragedy in Shakespeare often works this way: not through evil, but through impulse.
I will, and know her mind early tomorrow;
Tonight she’s mew’d up to her heaviness.
I will, and I'll learn what she's thinking early tomorrow; Tonight she's locked up in her sadness.
I will, and I'll find out what she's thinking tomorrow morning; Right now she's trapped in her grief.
i will check her mind tomorrow tonite she's locked in sadness
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 eagerly arrange a match with my daughter. I'm confident she'll obey me completely - I have no doubt of it. Before bed, wife, go tell her about Paris's love for her. And tell her - mark my words - the wedding will be next Wednesday. But wait, what day is today?
Sir Paris, I'll make sure my daughter marries you. She'll obey me without question. Before bed, go tell her about Paris. The wedding is next Wednesday - remember that. Actually, what day is it today?
she'll marry you wife tell her bout paris next wednesday wedding what day is today
Monday, my lord.
Monday, my lord.
monday, my lord.
monday, my lord.
Paris is one of the play's most tragic minor figures. He is, by all accounts, exactly what he appears to be: a well-born, well-mannered young man who genuinely wants to marry Juliet. He doesn't know she's already married. He doesn't know she's in love with someone else. He doesn't know that Capulet is making this decision without consulting her. He behaves with consistent propriety — 'these times of woe afford no tune to woo' is genuinely considerate, reading the room. He will end up dead in a churchyard for no other reason than being in the wrong place. Shakespeare takes care to give him moments of dignity, but he never lets us forget that Paris's tragedy is primarily one of ignorance and bad timing.
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's say Thursday instead; Thursday, tell her, She will be married to this noble count. Will you be ready? Do you like this quick wedding? We won't make a big celebration—just a friend or two, Because, listen, since Tybalt was killed just recently, People might think we didn't care about him, Since he was our relative, if we celebrate too much. So we'll have about half a dozen friends, And that's it. But what do you think about Thursday?
Monday! Ha ha! So Wednesday's way too soon, Let's make it Thursday; Thursday, tell her, She'll marry this fine nobleman. Are you ready? Like this quick plan? We won't throw a big party—just a couple friends, Because here's the thing—Tybalt just died, People might think we didn't care about him, Since he was family, if we celebrate too much. So we'll just have a few friends, And leave it at that. What about Thursday?
monday ha wednesday too soon thursday she marries this noble u ready like this speed no big party tybalt just died people might think we don't care just few friends thursday ok
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
My lord, I wish Thursday were tomorrow.
My lord, I wish tomorrow was Thursday.
i wish thursday was 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, then go. Thursday it will be. Go speak to Juliet before you sleep, Get her ready, wife, for this wedding day. Goodbye, my lord.—Someone light the way to my bedroom! Before I know it, it's so very very late that we Can call it early morning. Good night.
Alright, then go. It's Thursday. Go talk to Juliet before bed, Prepare her, wife, for this wedding. Goodbye, my lord.—Someone bring me a light to my room! It's so incredibly late right now that we Might as well call it early morning. Good night.
ok thursday it is go talk to juliet before bed get her ready wife for wedding bye lord lights to my room very very late basically morning good night
The Reckoning
Ten lines of casual conversation that detonate the rest of the play. Capulet wasn't going to push the marriage yet — he says so. Then he changes his mind on the spot, without even bothering to ask Juliet. The decision feels almost offhand, which makes it all the more alarming. This is a man who is used to his will being the world's will. He doesn't yet know he's setting a clock ticking.
If this happened today…
A father and his daughter's wealthy suitor are chatting late at night after a family tragedy. The father says he hasn't had a chance to talk to his daughter about the relationship yet. The suitor says he understands. Then the father, slightly giddy from the late hour and the company, says: 'Actually — let's do Thursday. I'll sort it out with her.' He sends his wife to handle it. He goes to bed feeling pleased with himself.