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A score has passed since she rejected young Montague, and already he’s set his sights on younger, sweeter bait. Rosaline hears of the story of Capulet’s party, of his ardent perusal of the green daughter of the man of the house, with a sigh.

She wishes she could feel bitterness towards him. She wants to at least feel anger when she thinks of his name, of how hard he’d worked to praise her beauty, all of the gifts and pets he’d had delivered to her door. But Rosaline is too wise to allow herself to surrender. Another fate awaits her.