Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cap. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily,
Cap. That we haue had no time to moue our Daughter:
Cap. Looke you, she Lou'd her kinsman Tybalt dearely,
Cap. And so did I. Well, we were borne to die.
Cap. 'Tis very late, she'l not come downe to night:
Cap. I promise you, but for your company,
Cap. I would haue bin a bed an houre ago.
Par. Par.
Par. These times of wo, affoord no times to wooe:
Par. Madam goodnight, commend me to your Daughter.
Lady. Lady.
Lady. I will, and know her mind early to morrow,
Lady. To night, she is mewed vp to her heauinesse.
Cap. Cap.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Cap. Of my Childes loue: I thinke she will be rul'd
Cap. In all respects by me: nay more, I doubt it not.
Cap. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed,
Cap. Acquaint her here, of my Sonne Paris Loue,
Cap. And bid her, marke you me, on Wendsday next,