mysterious disappearance of Juliet Capulet's body from the tomb of her ancestors was an event which gave rise to endless discussion at the time, and to many subsequent legends. Some people said that the corpse had been stolen by the Montagues for the mere secret glory of knowing that a member of the greatest family in Verona was buried in a Montague tomb. Juliet's nurse always asserted that angels had come for her darling, as they had for the blessed Saint Catherine, and had carried her straight to heaven. Some people believed that the ghost of Tybalt had been seen leaving the tomb with his phantom bride, and this legend was later enriched with a story that the ghost had left the dead body of Romeo behind him. This was quite untrue. As a matter of fact Romeo never returned to Verona after he had once left it.
The version which has come down to us in Shakespeare's play—the story that Juliet's body did not disappear at all but was found lying beside that of her youthful husband—is based on a statement made by Friar Laurence to his official superiors. The poor old man had been criticized before this on account of the sympathy he showed to all young people in distress, and now he was persecuted with relentless anger by old Capulet for having dared to perform a wedding ceremony for so young a girl as Juliet without the consent of her father. The extremely unlikely story which he tells, had as he says, no witness but the nurse, and gained no credence at all among his contemporaries, although the art of Shakespeare has made it immortal.
The true facts, traces of which may be read between the lines of the poet's romantic version, were known only to one person who remained in Verona—the fair Rosaline. They are as follows:
When Juliet returned from her wedding in the Friar's cell, she found herself unable to settle down to any of her usual occupations. She was afraid to think of what she had done—not that she regretted it, but the first great wave of emotion had subsided, and in cool blood she trembled to think that she was now the wife of a man whom twenty-four hours ago she had never seen.
Therefore she wandered out of her own suite of rooms which, as we know, looked on the orchard, and went to her mother's apartments. She could not bear her nurse's steady flow of talk about the joys of the married state, and she wished to satisfy herself that her early visit to the confessional that morning had not roused her parents' suspicions.
Then, too, Lady Capulet's room looked out on the great square of Verona where something was always happening, and Juliet promised herself the amusement of peeping from behind the shutters. Possibly Romeo himself would pass through the square.
She found that both her parents were out, but waiting in her mother's room was her fair cousin Rosaline. The two girls had never been exactly intimate. Rosaline was three years older than Juliet—she had a regular profile, a high white forehead, a scarlet though somewhat narrow mouth, and a bearing so stately and correct that the Capulets were always glad that little Juliet—such a passionate, impulsive child—should be thrown into her cousin's society.
Rosaline had come to explain why she had not put in an appearance at the Capulet's supper party the evening before. She knew her absence would have angered her uncle, and though she was too calm and haughty to fear any one, her uncle's well-known irascibility was something she tried never to rouse.
She began by saying that she heard it had been a delightful entertainment. Juliet turned her head away to hide the smile which irresistibly curled her lips. She admitted that she had enjoyed it, and then added:
“But thou, sweet coz, didst let thyself be missed.”
“My duty,” answered Rosaline, “not my will kept me at home.” And she went on to explain how she had of late been importuned by a young gallant of Verona, with attentions which were most unwelcome to her: “Not three nights since, he did o'er perch the walls about my orchard, and except my hound bayed at him like a Modern Cerberus, he might have smirched that jewel—my fair name.”
Juliet dropped her eyes. Sheltered as she was by her parents, she had never heard a whisper of Romeo's devotion to her cousin, although it was the gossip of all Verona. She had not the faintest suspicion that it was of her own husband Rosaline was speaking. Her only thought was that she was grateful that her father had always had a prejudice against keeping dogs in their orchard.