Chapter Text
“Benvolio! Benvolio! Wake up!” my uncle startled me.
“What?!” I jumped.
“They’re going to the Capulet monument! We have to go.”
“Who?”
“They could be planning something!”
Lord Montague dragged me out of bed and rushed me out of the house. He ran down toward the town square as I stumbled to keep up.
It was all a blur to me. I was still trying to wake up, and everything was hazy and dream-like. Across the square we ran, all the way toward the Capulet monument.
“Wait! Capulet’s daughter is in there!” I yelled.
“Doesn’t matter. There’s something going on, and I have to know.” Lord Montague declared, “Look at all those people!”
A small crowd gathered around the Capulet monument. I was only able to make out a few people: Lord and Lady Capulet and Prince Escalus. The Capulets were wide-eyed and the prince was solemn. Everyone else was silent.
“Uncle, this looks more like a procession,” I yawned, “not a plot against you.”
“Oh, hush.”
Lord Montague pulled me toward the crowd with the same determined face he had going in to fight a Capulet.
“Ah, Lord Montague,” the prince greeted, “You’ve come at last.”
As the two met eyes, my uncle’s face turned from defense to dismal in a matter of seconds.
“My liege, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is…” my uncle desperately looked around for a ray of hope.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. To my left, I made out Balthasar’s face.
“Balthasar?! What happened?” I whispered.
Balthasar shook his head.
My uncle swallowed, “My wife has died from her sadness over our son’s exile. What else do I have to endure?”
“Take a look for yourself.” the prince offered grimly.
Lord Montague and I slowly made our way toward the monument. Once we got to the entrance, we peered into the monument. Within that moment, this hazy dream became a vivid nightmare.
Inside the tomb lay Romeo, dead. He held a bottle of some sort in his hand. His eyes were closed. His skin looked cold and blanched.
Laying slightly on him was Juliet Capulet. Blood pooled around her.
“Look away, nephew.” my uncle instructed.
I leaned against the entrance and stared at my feet.
They looked so peaceful dead. It didn’t seem right, like a sick, ironic sight. It was like they invited Death and passively drifted into the frozen blanket of permanent sleep.
I glanced up at my uncle. He looked in on the scene. His eyes grew wide and filled with tears, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. The color on his cheeks left him.
“How could you?!” my uncle demanded, trying to blink away his tears, “How could you die before me?!”
“Peace, Montague. This will all be explained.” the prince said.
I patted my uncle's arm. He glanced down at me and patted my hand back. We walked back to the rest of the group.
A man cleared his throat and stepped next to Prince Escalus.
“I know what has happened,” he admitted.
“Please share, Friar Lawrence.”
The friar glanced around before beginning, “I’ll do my best to be brief.”
The friar delivered what happened in an impersonal tone: Romeo and Juliet had loved each other and the friar had married them. They were married the same day Mercutio and Tybalt died. When Romeo was banished, it caused the pair–but in particular Juliet–much distress.
The friar turned to Lord Capulet, “And to end her sorrows, you, Capulet, arranged her to marry Count Paris.”
“I thought I was doing what was best!” Capulet cried.
According to Friar Lawrence, Juliet’s imposed marriage hadn’t helped her at all, so she turned to the friar for his help in getting her out of marrying Count Paris. The friar’s plan was to give her a sleeping potion that made her look completely dead.
In the meantime, the friar attempted to send a letter to Romeo explaining the situation, so he would come and retrieve Juliet from the tomb (when the potion would have worn off). Unfortunately, the letter failed to send.
Instead, the friar went to retrieve Juliet himself, when he thought no one else would be there. To his surprise, Romeo and the count Paris had already gotten there, but were dead by then.
“When Juliet woke up, I begged for her to come with me, so we could sort out what we- I –had done. Despite my attempts, she wouldn’t listen. And now she lies here before you.”
I stopped paying any attention to what was going on by then. Romeo and Juliet were dead. Maybe if Romeo hadn’t been exiled, they’d still be alive. Maybe if someone had stopped another fight from breaking out, Romeo’s exile wouldn’t have happened. Without this silly feud, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for exiles or stopping fights.
“Capulet! Montague!” the prince boomed, “Do you see what your hatred has done? Because of it, heaven has killed your only children. And because I was not firm enough, I, too, have lost two of my own kinsmen. Now we all have been punished from this.”
Lord Capulet turned to my uncle, “Oh, brother Montague, take my hand as a dowry.”
My uncle, clasping Lord Capulet’s hand, replied, “Let me build a statue of your Juliet, to remind us of what our hate has caused.”
“I’ll build a statue of Romeo right beside her.” Capulet added, “Our hate was not worth their death.”
The two lords embraced each other.
As much as I was sad Juliet and Romeo were dead, it felt unfair. They got to be remembered and memorialized, but Mercutio and Tybalt were left forgotten.
Death had let Romeo and Juliet go peacefully, but forced Mercutio and Tybalt into its grasp. Romeo had anticipated death, but didn’t even give Tybalt a chance to see death coming. Juliet got to be a symbol for what was wrong with the feuding, but Mercutio would be seen as a mistake waiting to happen.
Mercutio and Tybalt were a warning for what was wrong with the feuding, but only through Juliet and Romeo was everyone able to realize what they had done. Why did it have to take six people dying for the feuding to stop?
Was I a terrible person for feeling this way?
“Are you alright?” my uncle asked me.
I shook my head, “It’s not fair.”
He slowly nodded.
“The fighting didn’t stop after Tybalt and Mercutio died. And no one seems to care about their deaths anymore.”
There was silence.
“I just miss my friend.”
Lord Montague took his hand and put it in my hair, “I know you do.”
I looked back at my uncle.
“We all miss someone. I miss my son, the Capulets miss their Tybalt and Juliet, and you miss your Mercutio.”
I sighed.
“No one asked to see so many people die. Especially us adults; we never want to see our children die.”
I knew he was telling the truth, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel resentment. Why had they allowed the feud to get so out of hand?
“Things will be different now, nephew.” my uncle soothed. He reached his arm out to me. I stood up and followed him as we walked away from the Capulet tomb along with everyone else.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I don’t, but we have to trust that things will change.” he sighed, “It’s the only way we grow.”
“Benvolio! Benvolio! Wake up!” my uncle startled me.
“What?!” I jumped.
“They’re going to the Capulet monument! We have to go.”
“Who?”
“They could be planning something!”
Lord Montague dragged me out of bed and rushed me out of the house. He ran down toward the town square as I stumbled to keep up.
It was all a blur to me. I was still trying to wake up, and everything was hazy and dream-like. Across the square we ran, all the way toward the Capulet monument.
“Wait! Capulet’s daughter is in there!” I yelled.
“Doesn’t matter. There’s something going on, and I have to know.” Lord Montague declared, “Look at all those people!”
A small crowd gathered around the Capulet monument. I was only able to make out a few people: Lord and Lady Capulet and Prince Escalus. The Capulets were wide-eyed and the prince was solemn. Everyone else was silent.
“Uncle, this looks more like a procession,” I yawned, “not a plot against you.”
“Oh, hush.”
Lord Montague pulled me toward the crowd with the same determined face he had going in to fight a Capulet.
“Ah, Lord Montague,” the prince greeted, “You’ve come at last.”
As the two met eyes, my uncle’s face turned from defense to dismal in a matter of seconds.
“My liege, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is…” my uncle desperately looked around for a ray of hope.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. To my left, I made out Balthasar’s face.
“Balthasar?! What happened?” I whispered.
Balthasar shook his head.
My uncle swallowed, “My wife has died from her sadness over our son’s exile. What else do I have to endure?”
“Take a look for yourself.” the prince offered grimly.
Lord Montague and I slowly made our way toward the monument. Once we got to the entrance, we peered into the monument. Within that moment, this hazy dream became a vivid nightmare.
Inside the tomb lay Romeo, dead. He held a bottle of some sort in his hand. His eyes were closed. His skin looked cold and blanched.
Laying slightly on him was Juliet Capulet. Blood pooled around her.
“Look away, nephew.” my uncle instructed.
I leaned against the entrance and stared at my feet.
They looked so peaceful dead. It didn’t seem right, like a sick, ironic sight. It was like they invited Death and passively drifted into the frozen blanket of permanent sleep.
I glanced up at my uncle. He looked in on the scene. His eyes grew wide and filled with tears, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. The color on his cheeks left him.
“How could you?!” my uncle demanded, trying to blink away his tears, “How could you die before me?!”
“Peace, Montague. This will all be explained.” the prince said.
I patted my uncle's arm. He glanced down at me and patted my hand back. We walked back to the rest of the group.
A man cleared his throat and stepped next to Prince Escalus.
“I know what has happened,” he admitted.
“Please share, Friar Lawrence.”
The friar glanced around before beginning, “I’ll do my best to be brief.”
The friar delivered what happened in an impersonal tone: Romeo and Juliet had loved each other and the friar had married them. They were married the same day Mercutio and Tybalt died. When Romeo was banished, it caused the pair–but in particular Juliet–much distress.
The friar turned to Lord Capulet, “And to end her sorrows, you, Capulet, arranged her to marry Count Paris.”
“I thought I was doing what was best!” Capulet cried.
According to Friar Lawrence, Juliet’s imposed marriage hadn’t helped her at all, so she turned to the friar for his help in getting her out of marrying Count Paris. The friar’s plan was to give her a sleeping potion that made her look completely dead.
In the meantime, the friar attempted to send a letter to Romeo explaining the situation, so he would come and retrieve Juliet from the tomb (when the potion would have worn off). Unfortunately, the letter failed to send.
Instead, the friar went to retrieve Juliet himself, when he thought no one else would be there. To his surprise, Romeo and the count Paris had already gotten there, but were dead by then.
“When Juliet woke up, I begged for her to come with me, so we could sort out what we- I –had done. Despite my attempts, she wouldn’t listen. And now she lies here before you.”
I stopped paying any attention to what was going on by then. Romeo and Juliet were dead. Maybe if Romeo hadn’t been exiled, they’d still be alive. Maybe if someone had stopped another fight from breaking out, Romeo’s exile wouldn’t have happened. Without this silly feud, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for exiles or stopping fights.
“Capulet! Montague!” the prince boomed, “Do you see what your hatred has done? Because of it, heaven has killed your only children. And because I was not firm enough, I, too, have lost two of my own kinsmen. Now we all have been punished from this.”
Lord Capulet turned to my uncle, “Oh, brother Montague, take my hand as a dowry.”
My uncle, clasping Lord Capulet’s hand, replied, “Let me build a statue of your Juliet, to remind us of what our hate has caused.”
“I’ll build a statue of Romeo right beside her.” Capulet added, “Our hate was not worth their death.”
The two lords embraced each other.
As much as I was sad Juliet and Romeo were dead, it felt unfair. They got to be remembered and memorialized, but Mercutio and Tybalt were left forgotten.
Death had let Romeo and Juliet go peacefully, but forced Mercutio and Tybalt into its grasp. Romeo had anticipated death, but didn’t even give Tybalt a chance to see death coming. Juliet got to be a symbol for what was wrong with the feuding, but Mercutio would be seen as a mistake waiting to happen.
Mercutio and Tybalt were a warning for what was wrong with the feuding, but only through Juliet and Romeo was everyone able to realize what they had done. Why did it have to take six people dying for the feuding to stop?
Was I a terrible person for feeling this way?
“Are you alright?” my uncle asked me.
I shook my head, “It’s not fair.”
He slowly nodded.
“The fighting didn’t stop after Tybalt and Mercutio died. And no one seems to care about their deaths anymore.”
There was silence.
“I just miss my friend.”
Lord Montague took his hand and put it in my hair, “I know you do.”
I looked back at my uncle.
“We all miss someone. I miss my son, the Capulets miss their Tybalt and Juliet, and you miss your Mercutio.”
I sighed.
“No one asked to see so many people die. Especially us adults; we never want to see our children die.”
I knew he was telling the truth, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel resentment. Why had they allowed the feud to get so out of hand?
“Things will be different now, nephew.” my uncle soothed. He reached his arm out to me. I stood up and followed him as we walked away from the Capulet tomb along with everyone else.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I don’t, but we have to trust that things will change.” he sighed, “It’s the only way we grow.”