Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet

Slide: 1
CAPULET Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tenderOf my child’s love. I think she will be ruledIn 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 Wednesdaynext—But soft, what day is this?
Monday, my lord.
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....
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
Slide: 2
How, how, how, how? Chopped logic? What is this?“Proud,” and “I thank you,” and “I thank you not,”And yet “not proud”? Mistress minion you,Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,But fettle your fine joints ’gainst Thursday nextTo go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church,Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage!You tallow face!
Fie, fie, what, are you mad?
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch!I tell thee what: get thee to church o’ Thursday,Or never after look me in the face.Speak not; reply not; do not answer me.My fingers itch.—Wife, we scarce thought usblessedThat God had lent us but this only child,But now I see this one is one too much,And that we have a curse in having her.Out on her, hilding.

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