𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐𝘝, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘐; 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

"On Thursday, sir? That's very soon." Friar Lawerence asked Griffin.

"That's how my future father-in-law Capulet wants it, and I'm not dragging my feet." Griffin shrugged.

"You say you don't know what the girl thinks. That's a rocky road to be riding. I don't like it." He sighed.

"She's grieving too much over the death of Jonah. So I haven't had the chance to talk to her about love. Romantic love doesn't happen when people are in mourning." Griffin told him, "She cries too much by herself. If she had someone to be with her, she would stop crying. Now you know the reason for the rush."

"I wish I didn't know the reason why the marriage should be slowed down." Friar Lawerence mumbled to himself, "Look, sir, here comes the lady walking toward my cell."

"I'm happy to meet you, my lady and my wife." Griffin grinned at me, taking my hand and kissing it.

"That might be the case sir, after I'm married." I took my hand away.

"That 'may be' must be, love, on Thursday," Griffin told me.

"What must be will be." Was all I said.

"That is a certain truth." Friar Lawerence agreed.

"Have you come to make confession to this father?" Griffin asked.

"If I answered that question, I'd be making confession to you." I glared at him.

"Don't deny to him that you love me." Griffin frowned.

"I'll confess to you that I love him," I said.

"You will also confess, I'm sure, that you love me." Griffin raised an eyebrow.

"If I do so, it will mean more if I say it behind your back than if I say it to your face." I rolled my eyes.

"You poor soul, your face has suffered many tears." Griffin pouted, wiping my cheek.

"The tears haven't done much because my face looked bad enough before I started to cry," I said.

"You're treating your face even worse by saying that." Griffin sighed.

"What I say isn't slander, sir. It's the truth. And what I said, I said to my face." I shrugged.

"Your face is mine, and you have slandered it," Griffin told me.

"That may be the case, because my face doesn't belong to me - do you have time for me now, Father, or should I come to you at evening mass?" I asked.

"I have time for you now, my sad daughter." Friar Lawerence nodded, "My lord, we must ask you to leave us alone." He told Griffin.

"God forbid that I should prevent sacred devotion! Juliet, I will wake you early on Thursday." Griffin leaned forward and kissed me deeply, "Until then, good-bye, and keep this holy kiss." Then, he left.

"Oh, shut the door, and after you shut it, come over here and weep with me. This mess is beyond hope, beyond cure, beyond help!" I huffed.

"Oh, Juliet, I already know about your sad situation. It's a problem too hard for me to solve. I hear that you must marry this count on Thursday, and that nothing can delay it." Friar Lawerence said.

"Don't tell me that you've heard about this marriage, Friar, unless you can tell me how to prevent it. If you who are so wise can't help, please be kind enough to call my solution wise." I took out the knife I had taken from home, "And I'll solve the problem now with this knife. God joined my heart to Corbyn's. You joined our hands. And before I- who was married to Corbyn by you- am married to another man, I'll kill myself."

"Hold on, daughter, I see some hope. But we must act boldly because the situation is so desperate. If you've made up your mind to kill yourself instead of marrying Count Griffin, then you'll probably be willing to try something like death to solve this shameful problem." He told me.

"Hide me every night in a morgue full of dead bodies with wet, smelly flesh and skulls without jawbones. Or tell me to climb down into a freshly dug grave, and hide me with a dead man in his tomb. All those ideas make me tremble when I hear them named. But I will do them without fear or dread in order to be a pure wife to my sweet love." I nodded.

"I'll send Corbyn word of our plan. He'll come here, and we'll keep a watch for when you wake up. That night, Corbyn will take you away to Mantua. This plan will free you from the shameful situation that troubles you now as long as you don't change your mind, or become scared like a silly woman and ruin your brave effort." Friar Lawerence nodded. 

"Give me the vial. Give it to me! Don't talk to me about fear." I said. gesturing for it.

"Now go along on your way. Be strong and successful in this decision. I'll send a friar quickly to Mantua with my letter for Corbyn." He nodded, giving me the vial.

"Love will give me strength, and strength will help me accomplish this plan. Goodbye, dear Father." I said to him, before exiting. 

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𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵