I, Juliet Capulet, was born in the Italian city of Verona in a noble and respected noble family. My nurse was engaged in upbringing. Although, in fact, there was no upbringing. I ran where I wanted, climbed the trees and fought with Susanna – my milk sister, the daughter of a wet nurse. My mother called me impatient and lamented that I was constantly tearing silk dresses and did not want to learn good manners. My father pampered me. But Tybalt, my cousin, mother nephew, although he was older than me, but sometimes he played with me, taught me to shoot with a bow and jokingly called my brother because of my boyish habits. In general, caressed by relatives, I did not know grief. My nurse especially loved me. She quietly repaired my dresses and told me wonderful fairy tales for the night. When I was eleven years old, my free life ended – I was sent to a monastery for training. Two years later I returned home, and all my relatives began to unanimously affirm that I looked like a real bride. “Nonsense!” I thought.
But, it turned out, not stupid… Father gave a costume ball. I danced, I was very tired, and I wanted to go to my room, when I suddenly saw an attractive young man dressed as a monk. We talked and parted. That very night the nurse said to me that this young man is Montague,...
Soon we met with him in our garden and swore each other in eternal love. The next day, Brother Lorenzo, the confessor of Romeo, married us. I was happy! And then Romeo disappeared. I could not find a place for myself. Thank God, my faithful nurse has always been with me. Only she consoled me. She also informed the terrible news – between Romeo and my cousin Tibalt there was a quarrel, and on a duel Tybalt was killed. As punishment for this crime, Romeo must go into exile.
Count Paris was wooing me, and my parents, without asking my consent, appointed our wedding. But I decided to wait for Romeo and then open up to my mother and father. Brother Lorenzo suggested that I pretend to be dead, or rather drink a drink, after which I fall asleep for two days. I will be deemed dead, taken to the crypt… And Romeo will come there. I’m afraid of the tomb, I’m afraid of the dead. But never to see a loved one, I’m even more afraid! Will our plan be successful? I do not know yet. I break off the autobiography with the words: “Romeo, I’m coming to you! I’m drinking for you!”