I am neither Shakespeare nor Evanescence. If I were, I would be either a lot deader or a lot richer than I am presently.
"Bid him come to take his last farewell."
Nurse hurried out of the chamber, for once matching her pace to the intensity of mine. I turned to the balcony, from where I had so recently spoken to him. It had been but nights ago, but I felt I had lived an age since then.
Meet me after dark again and I'll hold you.
I felt myself drawn to open door, my heart sharp with the pain of yearning. How long would it take before he arrived? Every minute killed me the more.
I am nothing more than to see you there.
The sun was just beginning to set beyond the fields bordering Verona, casting the city rooftops into a dry, golden glow. My own orchard was growing dim with the sunset light, the trees casting the pleasant shadows that would keep my love hidden from the eyes of those that would kill him. I only prayed that no one would see him before he entered the orchard, for this time it was not merely my family but all who were his enemies.
And maybe tonight,
I drew up to the balcony. The breeze was coming in from the outside, whisking my hair and skirts away from my face, blowing in from the night sky as I wished Romeo would fly in from his hiding.
We'll fly so far away,
I waited.
We'll be lost before the dawn.
He came. There was a rustling of bushes, and, hidden in the mist of the now-dusky night, I could make out his figure approaching just beneath my balcony. I seized the cords, and in a fluid moment of pure unthinking action, let them fall to him. He rose, slowly, moving as in dreams, every moment an age and yet so succulent in anticipation.
If only night can hold you where I can see you, my love,
He climbed over the top and leapt from the ledge of the balcony, and then wasted no time in pulling me into his arms. All that I had clung to for the past few hours rushed back to me, sending tears to my eyes: his scent, his touch, his very essence. He was breathing hard—he must have run—and he feverish brought one trembling hand to my waist and one to my chin, which he lifted so that he could plant his lips on mine. I kissed back, as hard as I could, wanting to absolteuly dissolve into him. It was so much like the first time, but I knew it was nearing the last time.
Then let me never ever wake again . . .
After a moment, we drew back, gulping in heavy breaths. Romeo seized my hand, so aware of the time and of his passion. I followed.
And maybe tonight,
He turned me gently and sat me on the bed. I met his eyes and carefully leaned back, trusting him, knowing what was coming.
We'll fly so far away,
Everything around the two of us disappeared. The sun had set and night wrapped around us like a cloak. We were gone to the world but ourselves; we were the only two in our world. It was no longer the earthly world, either. We were in heaven.
We'll be lost before the dawn.
It was broken too soon by the shrill call of a bird. Night dropped away with a crash, a spluttering return to reality. Romeo leapt from the bed, sending the covers askew. Not the lark; I begged it not to be. Daylight was not yet breaking.
Somehow I know that we can't wake again
"Oh, wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear," I cooed, pulling at him, trying to bring him back to the peaceful haven we had created. "Nightly she sings on yonder pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale," I tried to assure him.
From this dream;
Romeo's eyes were large and sad as they met mine, the only part of him he could afford to keep at peace and intimacy as he struggled to pull his clothes on again. "It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops." He finished buttoning his shirt and kissed my forehead, explaining earnestly, "I must be gone and live, or stay and die."
I pulled some of the sheets around me and stood up, too rushed to bother to dress myself. I didn't want it to be true. "Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I. It is some meteor that the sun exhaled to be to thee this night a torchbearer and light thee on thy way to Mantua." I rushed to his side, the sheets trailing behind me like an awkward wedding veil. "Therefore stay yet. Thou needst not to be gone." I put my hand on his shoulder and looking longingly into his eyes.
He put his hand to my cheek and smiled. "Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death. I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye; 'tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tight. "I have more care to stay than will to go. Come death, and welcome. Juliet wills it so," he smiled at me. "How is't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day."
It's not real,
Yet behind him came the devilish tendril of morning light across the fields, the prelude to sunrise, clear as day. I felt my heart falling.
"It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away!" I cried, pushing at him hurriedly. "It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes clean sweet division. This doth not so, for she divideth us. Some say the lark and loathed toad have changed eyes. Oh, now I would they had changed voices, too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day. Oh, now be gone! More light and light it grows!"
"More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!" He quickly seized his hat and sword in one hand and drew me in to kiss with the other. I embraced him, wishing once again that I could simply become him and never have to worry about parting from him ever again.
But it's ours.
Nurse arrived, knocking sharply at the door. "Madam!"
"Nurse?"
"Your lady mother is coming to your chamber. The day is broke; be wary; look about!"
Maybe tonight,
I peered up at Romeo, who still held me close. I pulled away, so reluctantly but no full well the price if I did not, and flew to the open balcony. "Then, window, let day in, and let life out!" I cried, motioning to the garden below.
Romeo followed me quickly. "Farewell, farewell. One kiss and I'll descend." We did. I knew I would only miss him the more because of it.
We'll fly so far away,
He mounted the balcony ledge and was ready to leap to the grounds below. "Art thou gone so?" I asked pitiably, my only dressing still my sheets, my hair tousled about my shoulders, my eyes wide and sad. "Love, lord, ay husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, for in a minute there are many days. Oh, by this count I shall be much in years ere I again behold my Romeo!"
He peered up at me, clinging fast to the rope, promising, "Farewell. I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee."
We'll be lost before the dawn.
Even his written word was little consol to me. My heart began to ache once again. This was my love, leaving . . . gone . . .
"Oh, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?" I cried. The wind was blowing now out towards the field, rushing away as Romeo was rushing from me.
Maybe tonight,
"I doubt it not," he assured me, still dangling from the rope, "and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our times to come."
We'll fly so far away,
"Oh God, I have an ill-divining soul!" I felt tears brimming up in my eyes. The morning light was playing havoc with my sight. "Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, as one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou lookest pale."
Romeo was still near enough he could touch my hand, yet his was cold and sent shudders through me. I almost wished he hadn't. "And trust me, love, in my eye so do you. Dry sorrow drinks our blood." He descended. "Adieu, adieu!" He was gone.
We'll be lost before the dawn.