And fair Rosaline would astonish even the ancient pagan goddesses with her lustre.
I write to her in secret, professing love in ever more glowing terms, but even I know that such a thing cannot be. She is too fair, and too kind, and above all, too Capulet -- hidden away, a buried treasure, but the enemy of my house for all that.
My cousin Benvolio tells me I must give her up, for the good of our house, and turn my eyes to lesser beauties. My soul burns for her, and I would reconcile myself to a life bitterly alone, but I well know my family will find a suitable girl of wealth for me to marry. As the Iron Lady reminds me almost daily, I am nothing but a tool to be used for the advancement of my house.
Benvolio has his thieving. Veronica has her scheming. I have nothing but a longing for … more.
One day, I will find it.
I love you well, Ben, but I love her more than any creature on this earth. If it were not blasphemous, I would say I love her more than God and man alike. No, I may say that. I must say it, and if God must damn me, then let it be done.
Romeo, to Benvolio