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"Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily that we have no time to move our daughter." (III.iv.1-2)
"These Times of woe afford no times to woo. Madam, goodnight. Commend me to your daughter." (III.iv.8-10)
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? (III.iv.12-18)
Monday, my lord. (III.iv.19)
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? (III.iv.20-23)
Well get you gone. O' Thursday be it, then... Light to my chamber, ho! Afore me! It is so very late, That we may call it early by and by.— Good night. (III.iv.31-37)
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