Feminist, Fictionista, Foodie, Francophile

Monday, June 16, 2014

Monday was a bad day for Juliet

 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?
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.—
Will you be ready?

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