Act IV, Scene I
Dear Diary,
Today I went to see Friar Lawrence, and there is now hope for me to not have to marry Paris! The Friar formulated a plan. I am to drink a vial of a special mixture before bed the night before the wedding. The mixture, the Friar says, will make it so that "no warmth, no breath, shall testify [I] livest; the roses in [my] cheeks shall fade to wanny ashes, [my] eyes' windows fall, like death when he shuts up the day of life; each part, deprived of supple government, shall, stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death; and in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death [I] shall continue two-and-forty hours, and then wake as from a pleasant sleep." On the morning of my wedding, I will be found, thought dead, and layed to rest in the family tomb. There, after being informed of the plan by Friar Lawrence, my Romeo shall meet me upon my waking. I then will escape with him to Mantua, and we will live our lives together there, not worried, or separated by the petty fighting of our families. This plan should work, but my father has now moved the time of the wedding to tomorrow, rather than the day after tomorrow, Thursday. Should I drink of the mixture now, and hope that the plan works out as it is supposed to? Suppose this is not the mixture intended for my use, but a poison! Or a poison that /u intended for my use! Suppose I awake before my Romeo comes to the tomb for me, and I am trapped there, starving, and surrounded by the bones and...oh, and Tybalt lies there! My beloved cousin so of late taken by death! I suppose that any fear, or worry, or anxiety I have in this, it must be overcome. For is it not worth it, to risk these things, to be forever with my beloved? Yes, I may awake too soon, yes, I may be in a strange, dark, tomb. But yes, also, I may wake to sight of Romeo, and is this not worth risking all the others? Death in the tomb would be a slow death, indeed, if trapped alone there, and madness would come sooner than death— but would life, confined and trapped in marriage to Paris, be anything more than a slow, maddening, living death? There is no price I would not pay to be with Romeo. I shall drink the mixture now, for Friar Lawrence will be alerted to my supposed "death" in the morning, and he will be able to work things out. Yes. I shall drink it now; I must drink it now— and pray that I will awake to the sight of my Romeo.
Juliet
Dear Diary,
Today I went to see Friar Lawrence, and there is now hope for me to not have to marry Paris! The Friar formulated a plan. I am to drink a vial of a special mixture before bed the night before the wedding. The mixture, the Friar says, will make it so that "no warmth, no breath, shall testify [I] livest; the roses in [my] cheeks shall fade to wanny ashes, [my] eyes' windows fall, like death when he shuts up the day of life; each part, deprived of supple government, shall, stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death; and in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death [I] shall continue two-and-forty hours, and then wake as from a pleasant sleep." On the morning of my wedding, I will be found, thought dead, and layed to rest in the family tomb. There, after being informed of the plan by Friar Lawrence, my Romeo shall meet me upon my waking. I then will escape with him to Mantua, and we will live our lives together there, not worried, or separated by the petty fighting of our families. This plan should work, but my father has now moved the time of the wedding to tomorrow, rather than the day after tomorrow, Thursday. Should I drink of the mixture now, and hope that the plan works out as it is supposed to? Suppose this is not the mixture intended for my use, but a poison! Or a poison that /u intended for my use! Suppose I awake before my Romeo comes to the tomb for me, and I am trapped there, starving, and surrounded by the bones and...oh, and Tybalt lies there! My beloved cousin so of late taken by death! I suppose that any fear, or worry, or anxiety I have in this, it must be overcome. For is it not worth it, to risk these things, to be forever with my beloved? Yes, I may awake too soon, yes, I may be in a strange, dark, tomb. But yes, also, I may wake to sight of Romeo, and is this not worth risking all the others? Death in the tomb would be a slow death, indeed, if trapped alone there, and madness would come sooner than death— but would life, confined and trapped in marriage to Paris, be anything more than a slow, maddening, living death? There is no price I would not pay to be with Romeo. I shall drink the mixture now, for Friar Lawrence will be alerted to my supposed "death" in the morning, and he will be able to work things out. Yes. I shall drink it now; I must drink it now— and pray that I will awake to the sight of my Romeo.
Juliet