Page 3211 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 3211
PARIS
Monday, my lord.
CAPULET
Monday! Ha ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.
A Thursday let it be, a 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,
It may be thought we held him carelessly, [25]
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?
PARIS
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
CAPULET
Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then. [30]
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 late that we
May call it early by and by. Good night. [35]
Exeunt.
Scene V IT
Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft at the window.
JULIET
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale and not the lark
That pierc’d the fearful hollow of thine ear.
Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.
Believe me, love, it was nightingale. [5]
ROMEO
It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
