As I spoke to Benvolio earlier, I am fortune's fool. Juliet and I have been married, and for a time I could not be made happier. I had planned to see her again this eve, so that we may be together again. But I am ashamed, and do not wish to see her hate-filled eyes turn upon me, for I have committed murder.
Mercutio and Tybalt, cousin of me dear Juliet, were at the crescendo of their row of spoken words at the moment of my arrival. I attempted at peace, but the fiery Tybalt would not be swayed. He had come for my blood. And that he got, for Mercutio was a brother to me. When I refused the offered duel, my friend took the blow instead. Now brave Mercutio is dead. And, in my blind rage, I quenched my thirst for revenge with Tybalt's life. I have shed Juliet's own blood. How can I ever face her again? I can only sit here in Friar Lawrence's cell and morn dear Mercutio's death. I am awaiting my punishment. I am awaiting the great Prince Escalus's decree. The decree of my death.
Had I one wish to be granted in my final hours, it would be to see Juliet once more.
Juliet, my deepest apologies shall never be enough to earn your forgiveness.