𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘝, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘐; 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯.

"If I can trust my dreams, then some joyful news is coming soon. Love rules my heart, and all day long a strange feeling has been making me cheerful. I had a dream that my lady came and found me dead." Corbyn frowned.

 "It's a strange dream that lets a dead man think! She came and brought me back to life by kissing my lips. I rose from the dead and was an emperor. Oh my! How sweet it would be to actually have the woman I love, when merely thinking about love makes me so happy." He grinned at the thought. 

Just then, Corbyn's servant Adam entered. 

"Do you have news from Verona! -what is it, Adam? Do you bring me a letter from the friar? How is my wife? Is my father well? How is my Juliet? I ask that again because nothing can be wrong if she is well." Corbyn beamed. 

"Then she is well, and nothing is wrong. Her body sleeps in the Capulet tomb, and her immortal soul lives with the angels in heaven. I saw her buried in her family's tomb, and then I came here to tell you the news. Oh, pardon me for bringing this bad news, but you told me it was my job, sir." Adam sighed. 

"Is it really true? Then I rebel against you, stars! You know where I live. Get me some ink and paper, and hire some horses to ride. I will leave here for Verona tonight." Corbyn said, angrily as tears started to run down his cheeks.

"Please, sir, have patience. You look pale and wild as if you're going to hurt yourself." Adam suddenly looked worried.

"Tsk, you're wrong. Leave me and do what I told you to do. Don't you have a letter for me from the friar?" Corbyn asked, hopefully.

"No, my good lord." Adam shook his head.

"No matter. Get on your way and hire those horses. I'll be with you right away." Corbyn huffed, then Adam left.

"Well, Juliet, I'll lie with you tonight. Let's see how. Destructive thoughts come quickly to the minds of desperate men! I remember a pharmacist who lives nearby.s. He makes drugs from herbs" Corbyn frowned.

"Noticing all this poverty, I said to myself, 'If a man needed some poison' -which they would immediately kill you for selling in Mantua- 'here is a miserable wretch who'd sell it to him.' Oh, this idea came before I needed the poison. But this same poor man must sell it to me. As I remember, this should be the house. Today's a holiday, so the beggar's shop is shut. Hey! Pharmacist!" Corbyn shouted.

The apothecary entered with a grimace. 

"Who's that calling so loud?" He asked.

"Come here, man. I see that you are poor. Here are forty ducats. Let me have a shot of poison, something that works so fast that the person who takes it will die as fast as gunpowder exploding in a canon." Corbyn nodded, frantically. 

"I have lethal poisons like that. But it's against the law to sell them in Mantua, and the penalty is death." The apothecary said.

"You're this poor and wretched and still afraid to die?" Corbyn raised an eyebrow, "Break the law, and take this money." I held out the money I had taken from my pocket.

"I agree because I'm poor, not because I want to." He sighed, taking it.

"I pay you because you're poor, not because you want me to buy this." Corbyn nodded.

"Put this in any kind of liquid you want and drink it down. Even if you were as strong as twenty men, it would kill you immediately." The apothecary frowned, handing him the poison. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘧 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳? 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰.
𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘬.