𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘝 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵; 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵.

"Now, I swear by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, he will not make me a joyful bride there. This is a strange rush. How can I marry him, this husband, before he comes to court me? Please, tell my father, madam, I won't marry yet. And, when I do marry, I swear, it will be Corbyn, whom you know I hate, rather than Griffin. That's really news!" I shouted.

"Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself, and see how he takes the news." My mother's eyes widened. Just then, my father and Nurse entered.

"When the sun sets, the air drizzles dew. But at the death of my brother's son, it rains a downpour. What are you, girl? Some kind of fountain? Why are you still crying? Will you cry forever?" Capulet asked, "So where do things stand, wife? Have you told her our decision?"

"Yes, sir, I told her. But she won't agree. She says thank you but refuses. I wish the fool were dead and married to her grave!" My mother told him.

"Wait! Hold on, wife. I don't understand. How can this be? She refuses? Isn't she grateful? Isn't she proud of such a match? Doesn't she realize what a blessing this is? Doesn't she realize how unworthy she is of the gentleman we have found to be her bridegroom?" Capulet raised his eyebrows.

"I am not proud of what you have found for me. But I am thankful that you have found it. I can never be proud of what I hate. But I can be thankful for something I hate, if it was meant with love." I nodded.

"What is this? What is this fuzzy logic? What is this? I hear you say 'proud' and 'I thank you,' and then 'no thank you' and 'not proud,' you spoiled little girl." Capulet glared, "You're going to Saint Peter's Church to marry Paris. And if you don't go on your own, I'll drag you there. You disgust me, you little bug! You worthless girl! You pale face!"

"Shame on you! What, are you crazy?" My mother gasped.

"Good father, I'm begging you on my knees, be patient and listen to me say just one thing." I dropped onto my knees and looked up at him.

"Forget about you, you worthless girl! You disobedient wretch! I'll tell you what. Go to church on Thursday or never look me in the face again. Don't say anything. Don't reply. Don't talk back to me." He scowled, I stood back up, and he continued, "I feel like slapping you. Wife, we never thought ourselves blessed that God only gave us this one child. But now I see that this one is one too many. We were cursed when we had her. She disgusts me, the little hussy!"

"God in heaven bless her! My lord, you're wrong to berate her like that." Nurse glared.

"And why, wise lady? You shut up, old woman. Go blabber with your gossiping friends." Capulet told her.

"I've said nothing wrong." She frowned.

"Oh, for God's sake." Capulet huffed.

"Can't I say something?" Nurse asked.

"Be quiet, you mumbling fool! Say your serious things at lunch with your gossiping friends. We don't need to hear it." Capulet shouted.

"You're getting too angry." My mother told him.

"My top priority has always been to find her a husband. Now I've provided a husband from a noble family, who is good-looking, young, well-educated. He's full of good qualities. He's the man of any girl's dreams." Capulet glared, "'I won't get married. I can't fall in love. I'm too young.' Please, excuse me." Well, if you won't get married, I'll excuse you. Eat wherever you want, but you can no longer live under my roof. Consider that."  Then, he turned and left.

"Is there no pity in the sky that can see my sadness? Oh, my sweet mother, don't throw me out! Delay this marriage for a month, or a week. Or, if you don't delay, make my wedding bed in the tomb where Jonah lies." I cried. 

"Don't talk to me, because I won't say a word. Do as you please, because I'm done worrying about you." My mother said, leaving as well.

"Oh God!- Oh Nurse, how can this be stopped? My husband is alive on earth, my vows of marriage are in heaven." I sobbed, "Give me advice. Oh no! Oh no! Why does heaven play tricks on someone as weak as me? What do you say? Don't you have one word of joy? Give me some comfort, Nurse."

"This is what I have to say: Corbyn has been banished. And it's a sure thing that he will never come back to challenge you. If he does come back, he'll have to sneak back undercover. Then, since things are the way they are, I think the best thing to do is to marry the count." Nurse said, "Corbyn doesn't live here, so you don't get to enjoy him."

"Are you speaking from your heart?"

"I speak from my heart and from my soul too. If not, curse them both."

"Amen!" I smiled, weakly.

"What?" Nurse asked.

"Well, you have given me great comfort. Go inside and tell my mother that I'm gone. I made my father angry, so I went to Friar Lawrence's cell to confess and be forgiven." I nodded.

"Alright, I will. This is a good idea." Nurse approved, then she left.

"That damned old lady! Oh, that most wicked fiend! Is it a worse sin for her to want me to break my vows or for her to say bad things about my husband after she praised him so many times before?" I scowled after she was out of earshot, "I'm going to the Friar to find out his solution. If everything else fails, at least I have the power to take my own life."

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𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴