Romeo and Juliet Letter
8 Piazzale XXV Aprile
Verona, Italy
July 18, 1388
Dear my quaint Mother,
My careful and dear Father hath sorted out a sudden day of marriage this coming Thursday. I am quite thankful for this arrangement, but proud can I never be of what I hate. I know that with this refusal to marry, you will wish me dead, but I pray, my wall-eyed mother, hear me out. I am afraid that I can never marry the noble Count Paris. I do, without a doubt, agree that Paris is a man of fine virtue and honesty. I am pained to tell you this honest news, but I know that soon, I must. Thus then in brief: I am married to the brave Romeo of the Montague family, the family whom you knew that I hated. O, but Mother, you must understand, when I first saw my dear Romeo, I just knew that we were meant for each other as husband and wife. There, you now know of my marriage, but you must also know that with it, we could cease the feud between our family and the Montague’s. This is why I cannot possibly marry the Count on the morn of Thursday. I pray to thee, mother, send me to Mantua where Romeo hath fled. Alternatively, perhaps, if sending me away does not appeal to you, I beg you; delay the marriage so that we may talk this out peacefully like civilized persons. If neither proposal interests you, you will have to marry the Count to my grave! I speak the truth. Right at this minute, I hath a sharp blade hidden beneath the folds of my dress. It quivers in impatience to pierce my skin. Mother, I now trust you with my life. Please handle it with care. Love, Your testy daughter,
Verona, Italy
July 18, 1388
Dear my quaint Mother,
My careful and dear Father hath sorted out a sudden day of marriage this coming Thursday. I am quite thankful for this arrangement, but proud can I never be of what I hate. I know that with this refusal to marry, you will wish me dead, but I pray, my wall-eyed mother, hear me out. I am afraid that I can never marry the noble Count Paris. I do, without a doubt, agree that Paris is a man of fine virtue and honesty. I am pained to tell you this honest news, but I know that soon, I must. Thus then in brief: I am married to the brave Romeo of the Montague family, the family whom you knew that I hated. O, but Mother, you must understand, when I first saw my dear Romeo, I just knew that we were meant for each other as husband and wife. There, you now know of my marriage, but you must also know that with it, we could cease the feud between our family and the Montague’s. This is why I cannot possibly marry the Count on the morn of Thursday. I pray to thee, mother, send me to Mantua where Romeo hath fled. Alternatively, perhaps, if sending me away does not appeal to you, I beg you; delay the marriage so that we may talk this out peacefully like civilized persons. If neither proposal interests you, you will have to marry the Count to my grave! I speak the truth. Right at this minute, I hath a sharp blade hidden beneath the folds of my dress. It quivers in impatience to pierce my skin. Mother, I now trust you with my life. Please handle it with care. Love, Your testy daughter,