Editing DbS (section)

== TWENTY-FIVE ==
⚇乂⚇

'''A DEVOUT MONK TEACHES ME NECROMANCY AND I THINK I BROKE THE LAW'''

ABIGAIL AND I TURNED AROUND, each cautious, to find the pale face of Juliet staring at us, oddly unreadable for a girl of twelve or thirteen. 

“Madam, I assure you, I am no murderer–” my voice was once again Scottish, although my inner dialogue had switched, mercifully, back to American English. 

“I saw you with my own eyes! Truly, you hath killed your…” she paused, considering what she ought to call Abigail. ''“Friend’s'' brother, and my husband!” 

Abigail frowned at this. “Juliet, thou couldn’st possibly hath married Romeo–.” Juliet’s face changed from slightly angry to a smirk within three seconds.

“Oh, but Abigail Montague, I ''was''.”

“Thou could not hath been married to mine own brother! Twas not enough time in a day!”

“From dawn to dusk, there was. Even ''he'' knows,” Juliet nodded to me. I looked between the two girls. There was something very… ''odd'' about this conversation.

''It seems the female gender speaks in tongues!'' I did not disagree with my mind. 

“Tis too early to deal with this- Juliet, we ought to–” Abigail was cut off by the humming of a tune from the direction of the entrance of the graveyard.

Without a word, Abigail grabbed my hand and dragged me to a bush, practically tackling me. ''Tis could be worse, I say! Fortunately, thou hast read the play, have ye not?'' 

From the entrance emerged a monk-like figure carrying a lantern, a crowbar, and a shovel, humming, oddly enough, a tune I assumed medieval people would think was merry, but I could hardly tell because of how off-tune it was. 

The figure was round and short, and even in the darkness, a glimmer of laughter was in his eye. He had a long beard- much longer than I had seen most mens’ beards in ''Romeo and Juliet'', but I figured it was because he was a Friar- he wasn’t trying to be popular or even fashionable, his job was to be a churchman, and a devout one at that. His brows were thick and he looked almost like a dwarf, only that he was slightly taller and his beard wasn’t as full as perhaps Gimli’s. 

His robes were a muddy brown color- they reminded me of the fur of a deer, only slightly darker and with no spots. A string hung like a belt with three knots in it, of a coarse sort of rope, the type you might see on a ship, used to “hoist the mainsail” and “raise the anchor” and whatnot. Actually, I think the anchor bit would be more of a metal chain, but the Friar’s belt was made of thick, durable, probably very coarse, rope. 

As he came into the graveyard and gave a small sigh of relief at Juliet’s still laying on the coffin table thing. A small lantern already burned from at the foot of the table, where Romeo had put it down before he had died.

He put down his own lantern, dropping the shovel and the crowbar, his weapons, in the process, before raising up his arms dramatically. I had no idea whatsoever what he was doing.

“O, Juliet… come out!” 

I was speechless. ''Of course the Friar would do such a thing! He’s a'' friar! ''T’would only make sense!'' 

Juliet stirred some, before sitting up. This shocked the friar so much that he almost tripped over his long, brown, robe as he stepped backwards in surprise. 

“Ah! Fair Juliet! I did not expect that to work- tis good to see thineself!” 

“O comfortable Friar! Where is my love? I do know well that here I am, but where is my Romeo?”

''YOU KNOW FULL WELL, O MAIDEN OF DEATH AND DARKNESS WHERE ‘YOUR’ ROMEO IS- LOOK DOWN BESIDE THINE OWN DEATHBED!''

The Friar looked down for a singular second, his eyes widening with fear, before he looked back at Juliet. “I hear some noise. Lady, from thine tomb–” ''She is not in the tomb you speak of??'' “–come from thou nest of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. A greater power than we can contradict hath thwarted our our intents. Come away, thou husband lies dead, and Paris too. Among a sisterhood of holy nuns I’ll dispose of thee. Stay not to question, for the watch is coming!”

Juliet set her jaw. “Go, get thee, hence, for I will not go away,” she spoke firmly, shooing the old man out. He looked uncertain for a second, but with a quick turn on his heel, the short and fat ruddy-faced man left, taking his lantern with him and leaving us with Romeo’s. She stared at Romeo’s lantern almost longingly, probably remembering her marriage ceremony, gazing off into space. 

This was when I quickly crept out of the bushes, ready to hide in a tree or something, but Juliet moved closer, causing me to freeze, ready to defend myself. Instead of going for me, she was really going for the lantern, and when she glanced down, her eyes found Romeo’s hand, holding a now-empty greenish-tinted glass vial of poison. 

“What’s here? A cup! Closed in my true love’s hand! Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.” She knelt down beside Romeo, looking at the vial which sat on Romeo’s outstretched palm. “O churl! He hath drunk it all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss they lips.” She kissed Romeo, and I couldn’t help but look ''anywhere'' but at the two. She groaned, starting to speak before Abigail inserted herself into Juliet’s conversation with herself.

“Juliet! You know not what you do- thou should’st have gone with the Friar. T’would have been much safer. I hear the Watch near us, we must be fleeing to safety–” she was cut off by Juliet who sighed and shook her head.

“I cannot continue without my Romeo, my true love. I must end this.” She took a knife that Romeo had kept well-hidden from sight that was attached to his belt, drawing it into the lantern light, its ever-sharpened tip glinting. My eyes caught hers, and I cast her a pleading look, before she looked away, committing the act.

“No!” Abigail dropped down to her knees, face in her hands. ''Tis not right for a maiden to be in such spirits!'' 

And so, Scottish Shakespeare me made the executive decision to hug her. It was an awkward hug, but Abigail leaned into it, tears streaming down her face. 

We must’ve been like that for at least three minutes before I heard the sound of hooves and voices. The Watch had arrived.