As I write, my attention hast been drawn to a delicate little bird sitting above my windowsill. The color of pure, untainted snow, it sits prettily, as if waiting for its prince. Or its Prince. I jest.
'Tis true, that Love doth arrive on dainty wings, that Love art tempting, that Love art a beautiful thing. 'Tis also true, however, that Love is a dangerous temptress, that 'tis both lovely and terrible. The word that love is blooming between Romeo, son of Montague, and Juliet, daughter of Capulet, has reached my ears. Mayhap this shalt be the way to part the feud of Capulet and Montague. At the same time, I fear for these two forbidden lovers. Old Capulet and Montague wilt not be pleased with this predicament, I am certain. Marry, I cannot give the two lovers my blessings either, for my fair cousin Paris told me only recently of his attraction to Capulet's daughter. He hath sworn to court her 'til she become his. Paris is a noble, virtuous young man, fair and polite, and every bit deserving of Juliet's hand in marriage. Never hath he uttered a vile word to either Capulet or Montague, and treads with ease the line between the two houses. I am proud to call him my dear coz. When he confessed to me he did love young Juliet, I encouraged the courtship. Now, even upon the knowledge of Romeo's love, I continue to place Paris as the rightful suitor of Juliet. Strong and passionate as Romeo's love may be, that which 'tis forbidden 'tis bound more than any free act.
Love is light and dainty, but I fear that it should be shot down with a poison-tipped arrow. Better to embrace it in the light than smuggle whispers and kisses in the darkness.
'Tis true, that Love doth arrive on dainty wings, that Love art tempting, that Love art a beautiful thing. 'Tis also true, however, that Love is a dangerous temptress, that 'tis both lovely and terrible. The word that love is blooming between Romeo, son of Montague, and Juliet, daughter of Capulet, has reached my ears. Mayhap this shalt be the way to part the feud of Capulet and Montague. At the same time, I fear for these two forbidden lovers. Old Capulet and Montague wilt not be pleased with this predicament, I am certain. Marry, I cannot give the two lovers my blessings either, for my fair cousin Paris told me only recently of his attraction to Capulet's daughter. He hath sworn to court her 'til she become his. Paris is a noble, virtuous young man, fair and polite, and every bit deserving of Juliet's hand in marriage. Never hath he uttered a vile word to either Capulet or Montague, and treads with ease the line between the two houses. I am proud to call him my dear coz. When he confessed to me he did love young Juliet, I encouraged the courtship. Now, even upon the knowledge of Romeo's love, I continue to place Paris as the rightful suitor of Juliet. Strong and passionate as Romeo's love may be, that which 'tis forbidden 'tis bound more than any free act.
Love is light and dainty, but I fear that it should be shot down with a poison-tipped arrow. Better to embrace it in the light than smuggle whispers and kisses in the darkness.
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