Father Capulet Monologue

Oh, how dire. Am I supposed to wed the so-called “valiant Paris”, and seal my doomed fate till death do us part? How has this come to be? This must be the work of the devil. The work of the devil, looking me right dead in the eyes. Paris, my groom? Now, by Saint Peter’s Church and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride. How can Paris possibly make me a joyful bride? My destiny is forsaken. I feel the blood in my veins boiling over, spilling out with immeasurable rage. I cannot contain my emotions. Father Capulet and Mother have ruined me, and even Nurse, too? After all that we’ve been through, Nurse sides with Father Capulet and mother? How despicable! It is to be my betrothed, my life, so it must be I that shall decide my own

Oh, if only they knew. Have my ears deceived me? Surely this must be some sort of delusion! Is it not? Oh, how horrendous! Once happy as can be, then ruined by the news that I am to marry Paris. This purgatory fate has broken me to the depths of despair. My body trembles. My bones shake. Oh, this dread that has come upon me. I groan from the depths of my heart. For the thing I long for most, I am forbidden. I am left forlorn. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds that sees into the bottom of my grief? There is not a man in all of Verona that comes close to my sweet Romeo. Oh, please! I will do anything to be with Romeo. My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven. How shall that faith return again to earth, unless that husband send it me from heaven by leaving earth? Of all fair beings, my cunning Romeo ousts them all! Finally, I had felt complete happiness, only to be brought down to complete despondency. Alack, alack, that heaven should practice stratagems upon so soft a subject as myself. Why does my happiness have to be denied? Is this who I’m destined to be? No one can deliver me from this path but me. Is life worth living without my true love? My life has no hope. My life will be empty. I am nothing without Romeo. Delay this marriage for a month, a week. Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies, for life is not worth living without Romeo. What is my life