Wednesday, June 17th, 1599
Father,
I send you this letter to tell you about why I have been acting so strange this past week. I have married a young woman, one of the Capulet household. I hesitated in telling you this because I knew it would infuriate you that I did not share your strong belief that all Capulets were terrible, worthless people.
Also, as my father, I am sure that you have some interest in what happens in my life. I will start from the beginning, the start of the week. Last Sunday, Mercutio, Benvolio, some other Montagues and I went to the Capulet party. There I met an angel, Juliet. Later, I snuck up to her balcony and we made promises of marriage. The next day the Friar Laurence, in secret, wed us. Then, as you know, I slew Tybalt. I have still not forgiven myself for that. I was banished, leaving Juliet alone in Verona. Her pain was increased when she was ordered to marry the county Paris. The next morning, having consummated our marriage, I fled the city for fear of being killed. I resided in Mantua and waited for news of my love from Balthasar. He told me that Juliet was dead. Dead! My world, my light, my soul perished at that moment. I wept long hours. I decided to go to an apothecary; one that I knew sold poison. I hold the bottle in my hand now, a simple corked vial containing a dark amber liquid. I will go to the vault where she lies and lay there with her. I long for my body to die; my spirit has already done so.
Father, I love you. Tell mother that also. By the time you read this I will be dead. Thank you for what you have taught me in life till now; you have both been good parents. By no means is this your fault.
Farewell,
Romeo Montague
Father,
I send you this letter to tell you about why I have been acting so strange this past week. I have married a young woman, one of the Capulet household. I hesitated in telling you this because I knew it would infuriate you that I did not share your strong belief that all Capulets were terrible, worthless people.
Also, as my father, I am sure that you have some interest in what happens in my life. I will start from the beginning, the start of the week. Last Sunday, Mercutio, Benvolio, some other Montagues and I went to the Capulet party. There I met an angel, Juliet. Later, I snuck up to her balcony and we made promises of marriage. The next day the Friar Laurence, in secret, wed us. Then, as you know, I slew Tybalt. I have still not forgiven myself for that. I was banished, leaving Juliet alone in Verona. Her pain was increased when she was ordered to marry the county Paris. The next morning, having consummated our marriage, I fled the city for fear of being killed. I resided in Mantua and waited for news of my love from Balthasar. He told me that Juliet was dead. Dead! My world, my light, my soul perished at that moment. I wept long hours. I decided to go to an apothecary; one that I knew sold poison. I hold the bottle in my hand now, a simple corked vial containing a dark amber liquid. I will go to the vault where she lies and lay there with her. I long for my body to die; my spirit has already done so.
Father, I love you. Tell mother that also. By the time you read this I will be dead. Thank you for what you have taught me in life till now; you have both been good parents. By no means is this your fault.
Farewell,
Romeo Montague