Romeo & Juliet - Act 3 Scene 4

A room in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS

Paris is reintroduced as an unintentional, unwitting threat. He is now in the good graces of both parents, though as far as we know, Juliet has never actually met him.

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

PARIS
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night; commend me to your daughter.

LADY CAPULET
I will, and know her mind early tomorrow;
Tonight she is mewed up to her heaviness.

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?

PARIS
Monday, my lord.

Capulet’s urgent desire to have the wedding take place makes him rather scattered. The urgency may derive from his hope to cheer up Juliet, his appreciation of Paris, his desire to ally his family to the Prince’s, or any combination thereof.

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?

PARIS
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.

Despite the preceding tragic events, and the explicit mention of Tybalt’s death and Juliet’s grief, this scene plays like romantic comedy: light, cheerful, and just a little manic.

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 late,
That we may call it early by and by.
Good night.

Exeunt