𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘐𝘝; 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩.

"Things have turned out so unluckily, sir, that we haven't had time to convince our daughter to marry you." Capulet told Griffin, "Listen, she loved her cousin Tybalt dearly, and so did I. Well, we were all born to die. It's very late, she won't be coming downstairs tonight. Believe me, if you weren't here visiting me, I myself would have gone to bed an hour ago." 

"These times of pain are bad times for romance." Griffin admitted with a frown, "Madam, good night. Give my regards to your daughter."

"I will. And I'll find out what she thinks about marriage early tomorrow. Tonight she is shut up in her room, alone with her sadness." Lady Capulet nodded.

"Sir Griffin, I'll make a desperate argument for my child's love. I think she'll do whatever I say. No, I think she'll do all that and more." Capulet said, "Wife, visit her in her room before you go to bed. Tell her about my son Paris's love for her. And tell her, listen to me, on Wednesday- wait- what day is today?"

"Monday, my lord." Griffin nodded.

"Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. Let it be on Thursday. On Thursday, tell her, she'll be married to this noble earl. Will you be ready?" Then Capulet paused, "Listen, because Tybalt was just killed, people might think that we don't care about his memory as our relative if we have too grand a party. Therefore we'll have about half a dozen friends to the wedding, and that's it. What do you think about Thursday?"

"My lord, I wish Thursday were tomorrow." Griffin grinned, excitedly. 

"Well go on home. Thursday it is, then." Capulet nodded, then turned to his wife, "Visit Juliet before you go to bed. Get her ready, my wife, for this wedding day." He turned back to Griffin, "Farewell, my lord. Now I'm off to bed. Oh my! It's so late that we might as well call it early. Good night."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬.