July 16
Benvolio is still chiding me for my love of Rosaline. Fair Rosaline, even now thy name carries pain for heart and lips! Why must such a face hide in the garb of a nun? Such a waste of a beauty, but why do I torment myself so? Rosaline may as well be on her deathbed; nay, she is less accessable than that. Why hast none spoke of her decision to adopt a penguin's attire? Forgive me, God, for I have mocked your sacred daughters. Oh well, nothing can be done to turn her from her course.
Why am I fortune's fool? I courted that angel for monthes, to which she responded well enough, but a proposal brings swift rebuttal! Why didst thou leadeth me on so gaily, only to turn back but a step too late to save my dignity! Such torment as this is truly not the work of an angel, but such a face Rosaline has. Why must lying eyes and a pretty face share a patch of flesh? Such beautiful flesh too, skin the color of a pearl, with hair like a raven and eyes a laughing brown. So strange that those laughing eyes were crying when last I saw them. So too were mine, sweet, so too were mine!
I dare not dwell on this longer, to do so would poison my soul. The bitterest gall of all mine days hast been this travesty. She is unseemly in her ghostly garb, yet I spy her bearing it proudly! Never again may I attend mass, for fear of spying that devil in hiding! The sweet agony, the tortured bliss that I must bear!
Romeo
July 17
Dear Parchment,
A poem to my Juliet
Oh Juliet,
Thee is the sun,
my warmth on cold days.
I warm myself
by the fire of your spirit.
How could seventeen years
pass without the grace you provide?
How I love thee.
Why must a forbidden love
burn within my breast?
How can the sun love the moon,
destined never to meet,
never to touch,
always apart?
Is that the love we risk my dear?
How can thee love me?
My fickle heart now sees only thee.
Thy love could warm me,
but how can I sit at that fire?
Why doth thou torment me
in day and in night,
waking and sleeping?
Regardless of it all,
I love thee,
Heart and soul.
July 17
Dear Beautiful Paper,
I did not venture home last eve. I was with her. Oh Juliet, thee owns me, heart and soul! Last eve, I snuck within her garden, heard her, lost in her musings. She was a heavenly angel, clothed in white. Not even Aphrodite could match her beauty! True, when I saw her, not dressed as her station befits, I should have left. But her grace, her voice, they held me as no rope could. She spoke to me in her musings, "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Renounce thy father, and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet." Those words stirred my blood. I tried to speak, to proclaim my love, to agree to renounce my name, but the words caught in my throat, and I dare say that even a cough would have been outside my power. As she spoke her deepest thoughts, thoughts of love for me, the lead slowly left my tongue, and I called out to her. She jumped at my words, and anger filled her voice. I slowly calmed her with kisses and words of love. Although her affection proves flighty as a doe, her heart is mine, and mine is hers. I cannot imagine my heart belonging to any other, but my angel, my love! I feel love for her as no other could instill within me. Every part of me is filled with joy at her existence, sorrow at her distance.
On the morrow a messenger she shall send, whom will inform Juliet of my desire for her hand. Perhaps Friar Lawrence should wed us. I must request it of him. I go forth this day to beg it, that he grants us the holy wedlock, so that none can separate us.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Sheet of My Thoughts,
The Friar accused me of bedding with Rosaline! I bed with none before my marriage (God, may marriage come soon!), and certainly not with snakes who cannot rejoice in me, as Juliet does. Rosaline is a candle in Juliet's sun. Juliet shines with a light of wit and beauty that none could hope to match.
Friar Lawrence has agreed to bind us together. Though my heart hopes for the best, the knot in my stomach grows by the hour. Will we be discovered; no, not if, but when? Oh love, I miss thee so! Doth thou feel the same pains of loneliness? I pity thee if thy ache inside is as strong. So alone have I been. Years have passed, yet I can't remember ere last eve. Oh, was it only last eve when I met my angel, my heart's companion? How many fortnights have passed in my mind since that night beneath the stars, when I swore my love to Juliet, and she to me. We kissed under the moon, and the fate of my soul sealed forever.
It might well be a sin to feel anger towards a servant of God, but Friar Lawrence was rather insulting! First, he criticized my idolatry of Rosaline. True, I was rather misguided in that respect; I recognize that in hindsight. Then he accuses me of going to her bed (I do not bed with vermin!), and then he claims that my feelings towards my love are unfounded! The Outrage! I love Juliet with all my head, all my heart, all my soul! My affection towards Rosaline is nothing compared to the emotions Juliet instills.
I must go. Mercutio is no doubt making up some foolishness explaining my absence last eve.
Romeo
July 17
Juliet's nurse did come but a few moments ago. Mercutio's saucy tongue did trouble her no doubt. But I sent my love word. We meet with Friar Lawrence soon, and then she will give her hand to me.
Oh, my lady, my love! Hath thou received my message? I pray thee has. If only lovers' heads were connected like lovers' hearts! Then thee could have answered my summons. Why, angel, must love be put into the closets of the soul? The torment of solitude! Why must Capulets and Montagues feud so that none remember the cause, nor do they care? Why, my love, art thou a Capulet? Cannot I renounce my name, so I may bask in the glory that is thee? I shall renounce my father, refuse my name. Dear Juliet, I would renounce it, spurn it, and turn away from it all for the privilege of holding your hand, kissing your lips, just to see you again. I would turn from all that makes me a Montague, If only I could hold thee in my arms forever. I cannot imagine a greater pain then to be denied the sunshine of her radiance, her beauty, her love. A love returned? I pray, fair damsel, that thou comest this day, so that we become one forever. None may separate us then. Together by God's own law. I do. The sweetest words I shall ever hear. May I hear them before the sunset. Oh, I pray. Juliet, be mine, forever and always.
She is my sun, my joy, my day unto the dark night that is my life. She is the North Star. Doth thou hold me in the same light?
I'll not write more, for fear of delaying my heart's promise. I shall write soon, as a husband! The heavens smile on me.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Holy Record of This Day's Blessings,
God be praised, I am a groom, Juliet my bride! We wed this day, joined forever by Friar Lawrence. God be praised! Tomorrow, we both will separate from our respective houses, and together we will stay, as husband and wife. Power and station, they mean nothing to us, so long as we stay by each others' sides. If we must live on the streets, begging for bread, then we shall, and rejoice in it, as though we be kings at a banquet. We will be none the wiser to the cares of war between Montagues and Capulets, for they will not concern us. Peace within our hearts forever.
Though I met Juliet only yesterday, she has been within my heart for all of my seventeen years. She tells me of the same feelings within her as well. Aye, God be praised for all the blessings I have received.
I owe thee my heart, fair Juliet, and thy heart is mine. Thou is the fairest maiden, who shines with a radiant beauty none can match. Oh my love, when next shall we meet? I cannot bear to only dream of thy face, for my mere brain cannot imagine the beauty mine eyes have seen in thee. I love thee more than anything, and tomorrow I shall give up everything to live with thee forever and ever.
Anon, I must go. I hear a noise in the streets. Trouble, perhaps. To think, I left this house but an hour ago a boy, now I leave a man, a husband to the owner of my heart.
Tis Mercutio I hear, and his displeasure is plain to my ears. Danger abounds. Farewell!
Romeo
July 17
Dear Record of my Sins,
Why? Why is it that my greatest joy has become my greatest sorrow? God, why doth thou torment me? But an hour ago, I was the happiest man alive. Juliet, my bride, and I, her groom. Nothing could be sweeter. I leave the house to the sound of Mercutio's shouting, to find him battling Tybalt in the streets. Tybalt came for me, to taste my blood. But how could I fight him, my cousin of but an hour? Mercutio chose to fight for me, but I could not let them duel. My friend, my cousin, fighting to the death in the streets! I had to stop them. I dove into the clash, beating down their rapiers. Mercutio consented reluctantly, and stood aside, but Tybalt slew him, his rapier darting under my arm! His blood washed over me, and Tybalt fled. I can still hear Mercutio's words in my ears. "A plague a' both your houses!" With his final breath he cursed me! If only he knew! I couldn't let them fight. How could I? Of the hour after, I recall nothing. The next thing I remember is staring at Tybalt's body, slowly marinating in his own blood. Benvolio was shaking me, telling me to flee. Tomorrow I will be a grave man. Mercutio's words fit me so well, for the Prince says that our lives pay the forfeit of the peace.
Oh Mercutio! Can the voices of angels explain my actions? Can thou see the love within my heart? When I join thee in the stars, may thee pity my sins against thee. Know that I meant well all along, that I saw not Tybalt's foul intentions. Let clouds be you pillow, a moonbeam your blanket. Rest well, my friend. Tomorrow I join thee, by the Prince's decree.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Journal,
I write this in Father Lawrence's room. He has sheltered me, bandaged my wounds. The Prince was "merciful" in judgment; he gave me not death, but banishment. The loss of Verona, of Juliet, is the price I pay for rash fury. I must leave fair Verona, but how can I? Even the vermin of this city may feast their eyes on my wife (what a strange word to my tongue!), yet I may not.
Oh Mercutio, doth thou rest easy? Is this the plague on my house? Did your final prayer come true? Thou died in my arms, my hands stained with thy blood. Blood on my hands, both interpretations meant in full. A plague a' both your houses. The plague hath come, but it doesn't kill: it quarantines! How, stout Mercutio, can this be? How many stars did I cross this day that heaven frowns so severely? Why? Why? Why? I fear that I will pay the penalty more than thee realizes, Prince. I pay with a love gained in full but a few scant hours ago.
The Prince should have ordered me to follow Mercutio and Tybalt. I would have gladly obeyed, slit my own throat at his command. A better punishment than to live out my years in harsh, lonely pain. Perhaps I shall carry out the sentence the prince would not give. Tis only fair. An eye for an eye, after all! I cannot be in this world separated from Juliet. A plant withers away without the sunlight, doth it not? So would I, Love. So would I.
Romeo
July 18
Dear Memento of Verona,
I write this en route to Mantua. Last eve was spent in Juliet's quarters. A marriage fulfilled only to be denied. I will find lodgings somewhere. But tisn't a concern of mine. I'd not notice living on the streets, no matter the weather. I have memories of last eve to keep me warm.
I shall always remember that night. She fell asleep in my arms, gently clinging to me. She looked like an angel, sleeping soundly. I wish my dreams were as peaceful. Nightmares shook me. Dreams may be the children of an idle brain, Mercutio, but they still seem real. Especially nightmares.
Mercutio, what are the heavens like? Are they peaceful, serene? Do harps really play? Is a choir of angels singing hymns? Can they reunite lovers separated by fathers and kings?
What god holds such a grudge against me that he must rearrange the heavens so that stars cross me? Please clear the way my friend. Doth thou oblige? Please make haste, I cannot bear to walk alone.
Oh my Juliet! My beauty, my angel, my North Star. With thee as my guide, I traverse life. Even if thou art miles away, thy radiance makes thee the brightest star in the sky. I need to be in Verona. That's home to me. There I can hear her, I can see her. I can feel her skin against me at night, I can smell her perfume, taste her lips. Now those sensations are only in my dreams. Peaceful dreams which too frequently come.
I'll not make it to Mantua this night. I go to see my love, if only in my dreams! Better than no Juliet at all.
Romeo
July 18
Dear Memoirs of a Madman,
I cannot sleep! Strange visions haunt me. I cannot remember anything between the deaths of Mercutio and Tybalt during the day, but the night remembers! Visions fleeting of pounding feet, dancing rapiers, and blood. I can't recall details, but I know that I committed an atrocity. Though the blood wasn't meant to fall that day, it did. It fell like rain, bathing me in it's unholy pain. I have been baptized in blood, and never will I be the same.
Tybalt, my brother, am I forgiven? Benvolio told me of your words. "Peace? I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee." Such scathing words. May angels sooth thy troubled brow, may God hold thee to his breast, may thee find peace. I love thee as a brother. I couldn't shed your blood. Why did thou provoke me, slay my friend? We wished no hatred. I feel great bitterness at myself for allowing to shed blood, can I be forgiven? Though you may oblige me, I cannot forgive myself. This violence unneccessary keeps me from my love, it shames my father (whom though I do not follow, for my Juliet, I still love).
Juliet, have thou forgiven me? Thou openly forgive me, but doth thy head and heart agree? Can thou truly overlook Tybalt's slaying? No matter the cause, I was responsible for Tybalt. He died at my hands, and I am only too greatful to be alive. How can I be allowed to live? These thoughts torment me. Only Juliet can ease my sorrow, my torment.
Romeo
July 19
Angels Above
A Tribute to Mercutio
So many lost
without a cause.
At what a cost
we cross the stars!
How to mourn
a treasured friend
so bitterly forlorn
at his own end?
Rest easy today
for thy future bright.
Mine is gray,
I must still fight.
Sleep well tonight,
my old friend,
for night is bright
enough to see its end.
Can angels above
guard thy sleep?
Can their love
not let me weep?
With a sigh,
I let thee rest.
With a cry,
the hurt not lessed.
Romeo
July 19
Dear Journal,
I heard troubling news. Whispers throughout the market about Juliet and County Paris being announced abound, but none can give real evidence. I pray they are liars, wife. Being your husband counts for naught if there is another to claim thee.
Mantua is filled with saucy gossips with no respect! Over half a dozen girls smiled at me in the market today. One even came up and asked me what my name was! Have they no respect? Can they not see the ring on my hand? The news of my banishment has reached this foul city, and I am the talk of the town! They do not even know I am here, and they talk of Mercutio and Tybalt's deaths as news! How dare they? One old man, a fruit seller, asked me what I'd heard of that "murderous Montague boy"! I told him that no one buys from gossips and left. How dare they? The only news was told by the allies of Capulets, which makes me the villain! I apologize, Juliet. That was a gross statement, please forgive me. Though you are my wife, your parents do not seem to be my allies.
Art thou still my wife, Juliet? I pray so, for I cannot bear to live without thee. I miss thee so that I can hardly breathe. I cannot sleep nor eat. This foul city is a nightmare! I do not wish to remain any longer, but this is where Friar Lawrence will send the message. What shall I do?
I love thee, Juliet. I still cannot bear being without thee for an instant. Though this is only my second day here, it feels as though I've spent a life in this prison cell. I wouldn't be suprised if everyone here was a vagabond murderer. Oh God, so am I!
Romeo
July 19
Dear Parchment of Truth,
I am going mad! I am being stalked. Two beings follow me, always in the shadows. A glint of sun shown on a dagger. I only caught a glimpse, but I learned long ago the to recognize the Capulet crest! They follow me, stalk me, to exact bitter revenge for their kinsman. Tybalt caused a war, and I am to be the next casualty! This is an outrage! Hast the world gone mad? Do the heavens try to knock the stars down around my ears? Why must I be tormented with this agony? Mantua cannot compare to fair Verona, yet I must suffer here while assassins follow me through the streets, with my wife miles away! Where has justice gone in Italy? Surely out with the refuse, for I can find it nowhere here!
I miss thee, wife. Art thou well? What doth thee in my absence? I love thee. Absence heightens love, so I am told, though absence will deaden my heart if it continues. Hurry, Friar! Hurry. Bring me to my paramour on wings of angels. Let me hold her again. Why must the stars fall in my path? When my heart is light, my load is doubled. None other known to me has suffered so at Fate's cruel hand. Why must I? How can I continue this cruel torment? I cannot bear my waking hours, knowing that my love is elsewhere. Why, Juliet? How could the stars curse us like this? Thou art the greatest blessing and the most powerful curse. My heart soars near thee, yet sinks when thee is out of sight. Why???
I pray thee well, and shall see thee soon. I cannot write longer. Adieu!
Romeo
July 20,
My Father,
I apologize for my known transgressions, but my full list of crimes is not known to to thee. I cannot rest easily until thee knoweth why I am in Mantua.
Thus, this is my story. On Sunday, (Was it only Sunday? It seems a lifetime ago!) the Capulets held a masque. Being an wild youth, I snuck in with Mercutio and Benvolio. At the masque, I met the most heavenly girl. We stole each others hearts. I could not live without her by my side. Thou was young once, surely thou can understand my feelings. We met in the cover of darkness, and vowed to marry each other that very night. The next day, Friar Lawrence wed us in secret. All could have been well then. But that was not to be.
I know I have neglected to mention my wife's name thus far in this letter. This was not by accident. I wished to prepare thee before revealing her. My wife is not one thee would have chosen, to be sure. Juliet Capulet became Juliet Montague on Monday. I know thee be shocked at this news, and I apologize. Please forgive me for this transgression. However, you must know that I love Juliet, and I do not regret our vows.
Thou can probably figure out the rest of this sad tale. The day we married, Tybalt sought me out in the streets. He had seen me at the masque and sought my life as an entrance fee. How could I fight him, my cousin of but a few hours? I refused to fight him, so Mercutio chose to fight for me. I tried to part them, Father, truly I did! I couldn't let one of my closest friends fight my cousin, though neither knew the connection. I lost control of my senses when Tybalt's rapier slew Mercutio, darting under mine arm to accomplish the deed. Again, I apologize for the shame I caused. I truly regret Tybalt's death. Benvolio persuaded me to flee for my life, so I went to Friar Lawrence. The prince passed his judgment, more cruel than death, though that matters not any longer. I went to Juliet one last time that day. I spent the evening with her, as husband and wife, before fleeing to Mantua at the friar's request. He said that he'd reconcile our families and console the prince so I could come back.
Thou can imagine my shock at learning of my wife's betrothal to County Paris, and her subsequent death. It has been torture for these few days without my wife, I cannot continue without her. I bought some poison from a poor apothecary, and journeyed to the Capulet tomb to end my life.
I write this letter with the County lying a few feet away. He discovered me breaking into my wife's tomb, and suspected me of trying to defile Juliet's body! I didn't wish to fight, but he left me with no choice. I apologize to his family for this as well. So many apologies to make!
I am holding the vial of poison in my left hand as I write this. Please understand, Father, I never tried to trouble thee. I love my family, and my wife's as well. This conflict must stop. That is my final request. Goodbye, my father. Do not mourn my death, I die happy, for Juliet is with me.
Romeo Montague
husband of Juliet Montague
Benvolio is still chiding me for my love of Rosaline. Fair Rosaline, even now thy name carries pain for heart and lips! Why must such a face hide in the garb of a nun? Such a waste of a beauty, but why do I torment myself so? Rosaline may as well be on her deathbed; nay, she is less accessable than that. Why hast none spoke of her decision to adopt a penguin's attire? Forgive me, God, for I have mocked your sacred daughters. Oh well, nothing can be done to turn her from her course.
Why am I fortune's fool? I courted that angel for monthes, to which she responded well enough, but a proposal brings swift rebuttal! Why didst thou leadeth me on so gaily, only to turn back but a step too late to save my dignity! Such torment as this is truly not the work of an angel, but such a face Rosaline has. Why must lying eyes and a pretty face share a patch of flesh? Such beautiful flesh too, skin the color of a pearl, with hair like a raven and eyes a laughing brown. So strange that those laughing eyes were crying when last I saw them. So too were mine, sweet, so too were mine!
I dare not dwell on this longer, to do so would poison my soul. The bitterest gall of all mine days hast been this travesty. She is unseemly in her ghostly garb, yet I spy her bearing it proudly! Never again may I attend mass, for fear of spying that devil in hiding! The sweet agony, the tortured bliss that I must bear!
Romeo
July 17
Dear Parchment,
A poem to my Juliet
Oh Juliet,
Thee is the sun,
my warmth on cold days.
I warm myself
by the fire of your spirit.
How could seventeen years
pass without the grace you provide?
How I love thee.
Why must a forbidden love
burn within my breast?
How can the sun love the moon,
destined never to meet,
never to touch,
always apart?
Is that the love we risk my dear?
How can thee love me?
My fickle heart now sees only thee.
Thy love could warm me,
but how can I sit at that fire?
Why doth thou torment me
in day and in night,
waking and sleeping?
Regardless of it all,
I love thee,
Heart and soul.
July 17
Dear Beautiful Paper,
I did not venture home last eve. I was with her. Oh Juliet, thee owns me, heart and soul! Last eve, I snuck within her garden, heard her, lost in her musings. She was a heavenly angel, clothed in white. Not even Aphrodite could match her beauty! True, when I saw her, not dressed as her station befits, I should have left. But her grace, her voice, they held me as no rope could. She spoke to me in her musings, "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Renounce thy father, and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet." Those words stirred my blood. I tried to speak, to proclaim my love, to agree to renounce my name, but the words caught in my throat, and I dare say that even a cough would have been outside my power. As she spoke her deepest thoughts, thoughts of love for me, the lead slowly left my tongue, and I called out to her. She jumped at my words, and anger filled her voice. I slowly calmed her with kisses and words of love. Although her affection proves flighty as a doe, her heart is mine, and mine is hers. I cannot imagine my heart belonging to any other, but my angel, my love! I feel love for her as no other could instill within me. Every part of me is filled with joy at her existence, sorrow at her distance.
On the morrow a messenger she shall send, whom will inform Juliet of my desire for her hand. Perhaps Friar Lawrence should wed us. I must request it of him. I go forth this day to beg it, that he grants us the holy wedlock, so that none can separate us.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Sheet of My Thoughts,
The Friar accused me of bedding with Rosaline! I bed with none before my marriage (God, may marriage come soon!), and certainly not with snakes who cannot rejoice in me, as Juliet does. Rosaline is a candle in Juliet's sun. Juliet shines with a light of wit and beauty that none could hope to match.
Friar Lawrence has agreed to bind us together. Though my heart hopes for the best, the knot in my stomach grows by the hour. Will we be discovered; no, not if, but when? Oh love, I miss thee so! Doth thou feel the same pains of loneliness? I pity thee if thy ache inside is as strong. So alone have I been. Years have passed, yet I can't remember ere last eve. Oh, was it only last eve when I met my angel, my heart's companion? How many fortnights have passed in my mind since that night beneath the stars, when I swore my love to Juliet, and she to me. We kissed under the moon, and the fate of my soul sealed forever.
It might well be a sin to feel anger towards a servant of God, but Friar Lawrence was rather insulting! First, he criticized my idolatry of Rosaline. True, I was rather misguided in that respect; I recognize that in hindsight. Then he accuses me of going to her bed (I do not bed with vermin!), and then he claims that my feelings towards my love are unfounded! The Outrage! I love Juliet with all my head, all my heart, all my soul! My affection towards Rosaline is nothing compared to the emotions Juliet instills.
I must go. Mercutio is no doubt making up some foolishness explaining my absence last eve.
Romeo
July 17
Juliet's nurse did come but a few moments ago. Mercutio's saucy tongue did trouble her no doubt. But I sent my love word. We meet with Friar Lawrence soon, and then she will give her hand to me.
Oh, my lady, my love! Hath thou received my message? I pray thee has. If only lovers' heads were connected like lovers' hearts! Then thee could have answered my summons. Why, angel, must love be put into the closets of the soul? The torment of solitude! Why must Capulets and Montagues feud so that none remember the cause, nor do they care? Why, my love, art thou a Capulet? Cannot I renounce my name, so I may bask in the glory that is thee? I shall renounce my father, refuse my name. Dear Juliet, I would renounce it, spurn it, and turn away from it all for the privilege of holding your hand, kissing your lips, just to see you again. I would turn from all that makes me a Montague, If only I could hold thee in my arms forever. I cannot imagine a greater pain then to be denied the sunshine of her radiance, her beauty, her love. A love returned? I pray, fair damsel, that thou comest this day, so that we become one forever. None may separate us then. Together by God's own law. I do. The sweetest words I shall ever hear. May I hear them before the sunset. Oh, I pray. Juliet, be mine, forever and always.
She is my sun, my joy, my day unto the dark night that is my life. She is the North Star. Doth thou hold me in the same light?
I'll not write more, for fear of delaying my heart's promise. I shall write soon, as a husband! The heavens smile on me.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Holy Record of This Day's Blessings,
God be praised, I am a groom, Juliet my bride! We wed this day, joined forever by Friar Lawrence. God be praised! Tomorrow, we both will separate from our respective houses, and together we will stay, as husband and wife. Power and station, they mean nothing to us, so long as we stay by each others' sides. If we must live on the streets, begging for bread, then we shall, and rejoice in it, as though we be kings at a banquet. We will be none the wiser to the cares of war between Montagues and Capulets, for they will not concern us. Peace within our hearts forever.
Though I met Juliet only yesterday, she has been within my heart for all of my seventeen years. She tells me of the same feelings within her as well. Aye, God be praised for all the blessings I have received.
I owe thee my heart, fair Juliet, and thy heart is mine. Thou is the fairest maiden, who shines with a radiant beauty none can match. Oh my love, when next shall we meet? I cannot bear to only dream of thy face, for my mere brain cannot imagine the beauty mine eyes have seen in thee. I love thee more than anything, and tomorrow I shall give up everything to live with thee forever and ever.
Anon, I must go. I hear a noise in the streets. Trouble, perhaps. To think, I left this house but an hour ago a boy, now I leave a man, a husband to the owner of my heart.
Tis Mercutio I hear, and his displeasure is plain to my ears. Danger abounds. Farewell!
Romeo
July 17
Dear Record of my Sins,
Why? Why is it that my greatest joy has become my greatest sorrow? God, why doth thou torment me? But an hour ago, I was the happiest man alive. Juliet, my bride, and I, her groom. Nothing could be sweeter. I leave the house to the sound of Mercutio's shouting, to find him battling Tybalt in the streets. Tybalt came for me, to taste my blood. But how could I fight him, my cousin of but an hour? Mercutio chose to fight for me, but I could not let them duel. My friend, my cousin, fighting to the death in the streets! I had to stop them. I dove into the clash, beating down their rapiers. Mercutio consented reluctantly, and stood aside, but Tybalt slew him, his rapier darting under my arm! His blood washed over me, and Tybalt fled. I can still hear Mercutio's words in my ears. "A plague a' both your houses!" With his final breath he cursed me! If only he knew! I couldn't let them fight. How could I? Of the hour after, I recall nothing. The next thing I remember is staring at Tybalt's body, slowly marinating in his own blood. Benvolio was shaking me, telling me to flee. Tomorrow I will be a grave man. Mercutio's words fit me so well, for the Prince says that our lives pay the forfeit of the peace.
Oh Mercutio! Can the voices of angels explain my actions? Can thou see the love within my heart? When I join thee in the stars, may thee pity my sins against thee. Know that I meant well all along, that I saw not Tybalt's foul intentions. Let clouds be you pillow, a moonbeam your blanket. Rest well, my friend. Tomorrow I join thee, by the Prince's decree.
Romeo
July 17
Dear Journal,
I write this in Father Lawrence's room. He has sheltered me, bandaged my wounds. The Prince was "merciful" in judgment; he gave me not death, but banishment. The loss of Verona, of Juliet, is the price I pay for rash fury. I must leave fair Verona, but how can I? Even the vermin of this city may feast their eyes on my wife (what a strange word to my tongue!), yet I may not.
Oh Mercutio, doth thou rest easy? Is this the plague on my house? Did your final prayer come true? Thou died in my arms, my hands stained with thy blood. Blood on my hands, both interpretations meant in full. A plague a' both your houses. The plague hath come, but it doesn't kill: it quarantines! How, stout Mercutio, can this be? How many stars did I cross this day that heaven frowns so severely? Why? Why? Why? I fear that I will pay the penalty more than thee realizes, Prince. I pay with a love gained in full but a few scant hours ago.
The Prince should have ordered me to follow Mercutio and Tybalt. I would have gladly obeyed, slit my own throat at his command. A better punishment than to live out my years in harsh, lonely pain. Perhaps I shall carry out the sentence the prince would not give. Tis only fair. An eye for an eye, after all! I cannot be in this world separated from Juliet. A plant withers away without the sunlight, doth it not? So would I, Love. So would I.
Romeo
July 18
Dear Memento of Verona,
I write this en route to Mantua. Last eve was spent in Juliet's quarters. A marriage fulfilled only to be denied. I will find lodgings somewhere. But tisn't a concern of mine. I'd not notice living on the streets, no matter the weather. I have memories of last eve to keep me warm.
I shall always remember that night. She fell asleep in my arms, gently clinging to me. She looked like an angel, sleeping soundly. I wish my dreams were as peaceful. Nightmares shook me. Dreams may be the children of an idle brain, Mercutio, but they still seem real. Especially nightmares.
Mercutio, what are the heavens like? Are they peaceful, serene? Do harps really play? Is a choir of angels singing hymns? Can they reunite lovers separated by fathers and kings?
What god holds such a grudge against me that he must rearrange the heavens so that stars cross me? Please clear the way my friend. Doth thou oblige? Please make haste, I cannot bear to walk alone.
Oh my Juliet! My beauty, my angel, my North Star. With thee as my guide, I traverse life. Even if thou art miles away, thy radiance makes thee the brightest star in the sky. I need to be in Verona. That's home to me. There I can hear her, I can see her. I can feel her skin against me at night, I can smell her perfume, taste her lips. Now those sensations are only in my dreams. Peaceful dreams which too frequently come.
I'll not make it to Mantua this night. I go to see my love, if only in my dreams! Better than no Juliet at all.
Romeo
July 18
Dear Memoirs of a Madman,
I cannot sleep! Strange visions haunt me. I cannot remember anything between the deaths of Mercutio and Tybalt during the day, but the night remembers! Visions fleeting of pounding feet, dancing rapiers, and blood. I can't recall details, but I know that I committed an atrocity. Though the blood wasn't meant to fall that day, it did. It fell like rain, bathing me in it's unholy pain. I have been baptized in blood, and never will I be the same.
Tybalt, my brother, am I forgiven? Benvolio told me of your words. "Peace? I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee." Such scathing words. May angels sooth thy troubled brow, may God hold thee to his breast, may thee find peace. I love thee as a brother. I couldn't shed your blood. Why did thou provoke me, slay my friend? We wished no hatred. I feel great bitterness at myself for allowing to shed blood, can I be forgiven? Though you may oblige me, I cannot forgive myself. This violence unneccessary keeps me from my love, it shames my father (whom though I do not follow, for my Juliet, I still love).
Juliet, have thou forgiven me? Thou openly forgive me, but doth thy head and heart agree? Can thou truly overlook Tybalt's slaying? No matter the cause, I was responsible for Tybalt. He died at my hands, and I am only too greatful to be alive. How can I be allowed to live? These thoughts torment me. Only Juliet can ease my sorrow, my torment.
Romeo
July 19
Angels Above
A Tribute to Mercutio
So many lost
without a cause.
At what a cost
we cross the stars!
How to mourn
a treasured friend
so bitterly forlorn
at his own end?
Rest easy today
for thy future bright.
Mine is gray,
I must still fight.
Sleep well tonight,
my old friend,
for night is bright
enough to see its end.
Can angels above
guard thy sleep?
Can their love
not let me weep?
With a sigh,
I let thee rest.
With a cry,
the hurt not lessed.
Romeo
July 19
Dear Journal,
I heard troubling news. Whispers throughout the market about Juliet and County Paris being announced abound, but none can give real evidence. I pray they are liars, wife. Being your husband counts for naught if there is another to claim thee.
Mantua is filled with saucy gossips with no respect! Over half a dozen girls smiled at me in the market today. One even came up and asked me what my name was! Have they no respect? Can they not see the ring on my hand? The news of my banishment has reached this foul city, and I am the talk of the town! They do not even know I am here, and they talk of Mercutio and Tybalt's deaths as news! How dare they? One old man, a fruit seller, asked me what I'd heard of that "murderous Montague boy"! I told him that no one buys from gossips and left. How dare they? The only news was told by the allies of Capulets, which makes me the villain! I apologize, Juliet. That was a gross statement, please forgive me. Though you are my wife, your parents do not seem to be my allies.
Art thou still my wife, Juliet? I pray so, for I cannot bear to live without thee. I miss thee so that I can hardly breathe. I cannot sleep nor eat. This foul city is a nightmare! I do not wish to remain any longer, but this is where Friar Lawrence will send the message. What shall I do?
I love thee, Juliet. I still cannot bear being without thee for an instant. Though this is only my second day here, it feels as though I've spent a life in this prison cell. I wouldn't be suprised if everyone here was a vagabond murderer. Oh God, so am I!
Romeo
July 19
Dear Parchment of Truth,
I am going mad! I am being stalked. Two beings follow me, always in the shadows. A glint of sun shown on a dagger. I only caught a glimpse, but I learned long ago the to recognize the Capulet crest! They follow me, stalk me, to exact bitter revenge for their kinsman. Tybalt caused a war, and I am to be the next casualty! This is an outrage! Hast the world gone mad? Do the heavens try to knock the stars down around my ears? Why must I be tormented with this agony? Mantua cannot compare to fair Verona, yet I must suffer here while assassins follow me through the streets, with my wife miles away! Where has justice gone in Italy? Surely out with the refuse, for I can find it nowhere here!
I miss thee, wife. Art thou well? What doth thee in my absence? I love thee. Absence heightens love, so I am told, though absence will deaden my heart if it continues. Hurry, Friar! Hurry. Bring me to my paramour on wings of angels. Let me hold her again. Why must the stars fall in my path? When my heart is light, my load is doubled. None other known to me has suffered so at Fate's cruel hand. Why must I? How can I continue this cruel torment? I cannot bear my waking hours, knowing that my love is elsewhere. Why, Juliet? How could the stars curse us like this? Thou art the greatest blessing and the most powerful curse. My heart soars near thee, yet sinks when thee is out of sight. Why???
I pray thee well, and shall see thee soon. I cannot write longer. Adieu!
Romeo
July 20,
My Father,
I apologize for my known transgressions, but my full list of crimes is not known to to thee. I cannot rest easily until thee knoweth why I am in Mantua.
Thus, this is my story. On Sunday, (Was it only Sunday? It seems a lifetime ago!) the Capulets held a masque. Being an wild youth, I snuck in with Mercutio and Benvolio. At the masque, I met the most heavenly girl. We stole each others hearts. I could not live without her by my side. Thou was young once, surely thou can understand my feelings. We met in the cover of darkness, and vowed to marry each other that very night. The next day, Friar Lawrence wed us in secret. All could have been well then. But that was not to be.
I know I have neglected to mention my wife's name thus far in this letter. This was not by accident. I wished to prepare thee before revealing her. My wife is not one thee would have chosen, to be sure. Juliet Capulet became Juliet Montague on Monday. I know thee be shocked at this news, and I apologize. Please forgive me for this transgression. However, you must know that I love Juliet, and I do not regret our vows.
Thou can probably figure out the rest of this sad tale. The day we married, Tybalt sought me out in the streets. He had seen me at the masque and sought my life as an entrance fee. How could I fight him, my cousin of but a few hours? I refused to fight him, so Mercutio chose to fight for me. I tried to part them, Father, truly I did! I couldn't let one of my closest friends fight my cousin, though neither knew the connection. I lost control of my senses when Tybalt's rapier slew Mercutio, darting under mine arm to accomplish the deed. Again, I apologize for the shame I caused. I truly regret Tybalt's death. Benvolio persuaded me to flee for my life, so I went to Friar Lawrence. The prince passed his judgment, more cruel than death, though that matters not any longer. I went to Juliet one last time that day. I spent the evening with her, as husband and wife, before fleeing to Mantua at the friar's request. He said that he'd reconcile our families and console the prince so I could come back.
Thou can imagine my shock at learning of my wife's betrothal to County Paris, and her subsequent death. It has been torture for these few days without my wife, I cannot continue without her. I bought some poison from a poor apothecary, and journeyed to the Capulet tomb to end my life.
I write this letter with the County lying a few feet away. He discovered me breaking into my wife's tomb, and suspected me of trying to defile Juliet's body! I didn't wish to fight, but he left me with no choice. I apologize to his family for this as well. So many apologies to make!
I am holding the vial of poison in my left hand as I write this. Please understand, Father, I never tried to trouble thee. I love my family, and my wife's as well. This conflict must stop. That is my final request. Goodbye, my father. Do not mourn my death, I die happy, for Juliet is with me.
Romeo Montague
husband of Juliet Montague