I am Rosaline, great Romeo’s lover
T’was I who hath inflicted within him sorrow
T’was I the first flame of desire
T’was I the maiden he could never forget

By my hand he was made enraged
By my choice to walk the way of chastity
I was the seed of wrath, the fruit of pain
Alas, my heart is heavy with grievous fault

I was the gardener who tore the rose
Which grew inside his garden
The garden that was his heart
For had I not taken his hope
If my love still remained in him
He would not have met Juliet
He would have lived to be loved once more

If it were not for me, there would be no raging war
There would be no secret blossoming love
There would be no agonizing pain
There would be no mournful tragedy