Romeo and Juliet

He locks himself up alone in his bedroom, shuts his windows to keep out the beautiful daylight, and makes himself an artificial night. This mood of his is going to bring bad news, unless someone smart can fix what’s bothering him.

My noble uncle, do you know why he acts this way?

I don’t know, and he won’t tell me.

Have you done everything you could to make him tell you the reason?

I’ve tried, and many of our friends have tried to make him talk, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. He doesn’t want any friend but himself, and though I don’t know whether he’s a good friend to himself, he certainly keeps his own secrets. He’s like a flower bud that won’t open itself up to the world because it’s been poisoned from within by parasites. If we could only find out why he’s sad, we’d be as eager to help him as we were to learn the reason for his sadness.

Look—here he comes. If you don’t mind, please step aside. He’ll either have to tell me what’s wrong or else tell me no over and over.

I hope you’re lucky enough to hear the true story by sticking around. (to his wife) Come, madam, let’s go.