50.
The pain of one’s heart was best
not be shown to others, but held in grief alone. Nerissa had missed Gratiano.
Not that he was the ideal person to be wedded to, but he was a good man, well
at the least he was seen as that. She knew little of him, except for his trades
with the Belmont, and the man was every part the gentleman. Her mother used to
say that a man is as good as his manners, that will account for his love to
you. It is not the wealth or expanse of his body, but the care and love he
cares for you.
Being the daughter of the baker,
and having being their only surviving child; her two brothers did not survive
the sickness that was inflicted on them. Nerissa helped in the bakery with her
parents, and the little time she had was on the streets with her friends. She
knew the hungry ones, and fed them the excess bread unsold from the bakery.
They in turn give her the bits of their wares be it that she can put on their
table.
“Nikolas Jean, years ago we met.”
Nerissa smiled. She recalled then the fun they had on the streets. These
children have only their dreams to live on. One was to be rich, and of course
to be wedded to one.
“Nelly,” Nerissa was called then;
plump child dressed in the handed down dress stood there and smiled.
“Will you marry me?” It was the
scrawny boy that lived down by the street. He was dressed in his working
overalls, and dirty tunic but his hand bears the bundle of flowers and stalks
of farm growth vegetables. It was the usual fare of fun for the kids then in
their early years.
“I do.” Nerissa replied.
“She said yes.” The boy shrieked
out loud. The other kids there in the game, applauded the boy. A cart was
brought to the boy and he offered the girl he was to wed a ride. It was a
gleeful affair when the cart with the girl was wheeled around the market place.
It was then, but years later,
Nerissa had grown and was sent to the Belmont home to assist there in the
kitchen. Her skills as a baker were well received, and soon she was good friend
of the lady in the house; Portia Belmont. One of the rules of the house was the
ladies were interned there, and only allowed to go out with the accompaniment
of the Belmont master. Naturally, their times were spent with each other, and
soon Nerissa forgotten her past.
Till then.
“I, Nikolas Jean take thee for my
…….” The boy stuttered in his words. He was unsure of the term to use.
“It is lover, you nitwit.” The boys
cheered at him.
“No, it is your beloved wife.” The
girls roared back. “We will be wedded before we are lovers.”
That was imprinted in the mind of
Nerissa. Later she was to understand why the girls said that; many of them were
without knowing their father. It was the life on the streets. She kept to that
understanding and maintained her pristine virtue. Even Gratiano could not get
her to change her mind. His death affected her heard, but she knew that nothing
was forever. She had her moment of grief, but it was soon over. She has a life
to live and will do so.
Till then. She found her true love
but he does not know.
“We were children then.” Nerissa
sighed. “He may be wedded with a roomful of kids.”
Not all love was from the
yesteryears.
Rosaline Alger long despaired by
the disappearance of Romeo and his unrequited love, spent her time alone at
home, and was surprised that she has a guest to see her.
“My greetings, Lady Alger.” The
well-dressed man bowed towards her when they met at the library. “I am Count
Paris from Hungary.”
“I am honour to meet you. Please be
seated.” Rosaline indicated to the guest. “What if I were to ask, the occasion
of the visit? I have not …….”
“We met at the ball held by the
Montague sometime back. You wore a blue gown then.” Count Paris said. “Most
elegant and suited for the evening.”
“Thank you.” Rosaline blushed. She
was unsure anyone recall her that evening. All she recalled was that Juliet
overshadowed her with beau……. No, it was chaperone that left her that evening
…... Romeo Capulet.
“My full name is Count Leon de
Paris of Lodrone. My family lived there for years. We are under the
jurisdiction of Trento. It is a small county established by the Emperor of
France, Napoleon Bonaparte.”
“I …. I am honoured.” Rosaline
blushed. She was hardly met by royalty.
“Your family name is well
established. The Alger are renowned merchants in Genoa. I do apologies for not
making your acquaintance earlier at the ball. I had to leave rather early.” In
fact, Count Paris left the ball when he saw Juliet was with the man in red. It
was an insult to him then.
“We meet now.” Rosaline smiled.
“Yes, I was delayed by other
matters and duly apologies for not calling on you much earlier.” Count Paris
smiled. “As I am here now, I did meet your father on some mutual subjects, and
took the opportunity to say hello to you.”
Rosaline blushed on being placed
into the schedule.
“As I was saying, I saw you at the
ball. Your chaperone, if I recalled was, he the red gentleman, and he …….”
“Romeo Capulet is a scoundrel.”
Rosaline uttered out in anger. “I ……”
“Most unjustly. I have heard of
Romeo ….... Was it Romeo Capulet? Was he not implicated in some killing?”
“I do not want to discuss that.”
Rosaline said. “I have …….”
“Absolutely. I am here to say hello
and may we do lunch some days?”
That concluded the casual meeting
with Rosaline. Count Paris rode off in the carriage and was with Prince
Escalus.
“Romeo is not with Rosaline as told
to us. She was upset with him.” Count Paris reported to the prince.
“So be it. We can ignore her as a
friend then.” Prince Escalus was careful to check all the acquittance of the
Capulet. On the mind of Count Paris was the thought of the lady he just met.
She was not what he had expected but he found himself affixed to her image.
“Next we will check on Andre
Bassanio’s information.” Prince Escalus looked at the other. “We need the Bill
of Ladings.”
“It is agreed for tonight. We will
stage it like burglary.”
Jessica took the longer walk to her
home. She was confused in her thoughts. One of it was her submission to the
lusting thoughts then. She recalled the words stated in the Book; 1 Corinthians
6:18 - Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is
outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body.
“Did I commit wrong? Jessica asked
herself. She had taken herself off the bedding and avoided the stares of the
man lying there. She dressed fast, and left the chamber, avoiding the stare of
the man seated outside. Then on her walk back, she pondered on her sacrifice
then. Funny, it was named a sacrifice then. She felt the action was not one,
but a release of frustration between them. Unlike, Juliet, she had never
condoned
St Paul once argued that God promotes
love and that all marriages should be based on the comforts of compatibility,
friendship, and shared experience. Her faith rejects it. To her faith, it must
be built on deep desire and covetousness. It was argu3ed in the chambers of
God, the holiest book of the Bible, Song of Solomon, is an erotic lust poem
that describes the burning yearning between a man and a woman: “Your breasts
are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies…
Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit.
I said, ‘I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit’.”
“For me, lust is hot, sexy, and
holy.” Friar Lawrence told her in discussion. “The tenth commandment is clear:
“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife,” which means you ought to be
coveting only your own. Most husbands who cheated also claimed to love their
wives, but they could not avoid lust for another woman.”
“Why am I questioning this now?”
Jessican struggled with her thoughts. “All I did was …… for love.”
“Was it wrong to feel frustration?
Was it fair to deny the object of your longing.”
“Is love a mystery that lust will
to inclusive to it? Why was lust enshrouded into the darkness or hidden in the
shadows? Does one deny lust because it was sinful? Was denial sinful too? Does
love make is more …… No, does being wedded makes it less of a sin?”
“Did I create a sin here?” Jessica
uttered in her breath.
“If breathing was one, then we
shall all die trying it.” Friar Lawrence stood before the lady. “Are you fine,
Jessica? I saw you muttering in your walk. Can I guide you?”
“Friar, why do we love each other
so much that we ……. May forego ourself?”
“Because it is love that overcome
all. As we breathe in the air, we deny death, for love is the air.”
“Thank you, Friar. I will wed
Lorenzo.” Jessica said. “He is my breathing air, and I am his reason to be
alive.”
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