I don't own Romeo and Juliet, nor any of the character mentioned in the
following.
This day is the first act of many.
Early-Summer 1506
Tis just another day in my drab, boring life. Romeo has gone off again, pining for "sweet" Rosaline, who, with my support, shan't give Romeo the time of day. It makes me laugh-really-should I pity him? .His being my friend and all.maybe.nah, not my style at all. Maybe there was a problem with me and not him, eh? Enough about Romeo, he's not my concern. That Tybalt, however, is beyond my concern and in many more ways than one would think. To anyone but, say, Benvolio, Tybalt is nothing more than a common villain in my eyes. He's a fancy-talking bastard; a wicked and thoroughly tormented Soul who'd rather go out and fight than take a maiden to bed. On that last bit, he gets my praises for as any should or would know, by the tip of my rapier women come and go. There is something I harbor in the depths of mine tempted heart when I see dearest Tybalt. Hmm.imagine the fancy the guys would have hearing about this. dare I say infatuation? Am I any better than that damnéd Romeo who would wander the Earth in the name of Rosaline? My candle doth grow low and the candle flickers like a timid heartbeat or maybe it is just my Heart breathing in the fire.
Same acts of Thought
So, it appears I cannot for the life of me actually fall asleep. Is it that I am so full with words at the moment and there's no one around for me to assail them with? Oy.there might be some tonic 'round here for me.but where am I to find an apothecary at this hour? I might as well recall the day a bit more. Well, with my trusted friends Romeo and Benvolio we went to a party. This wasn't just any party, dearest, t'was a Capulet party! Anyone who's anyone and even anyone who isn't knows that Montagues and Capulets don't associate with a brandished sword. I must say though, they've got daft servants to deliver their letters. He needed Romeo to read it for him! Romeo was reluctant on going, but I, Master of Words, did beseech him come and he did. I must say, for a woman who denounces love, Rosaline is rather pretty. She surely is not the Sun to the Earth or the loveliest rose in the bush but that's because my fancy does not lie with women. I would think Romeo had come to see her.but the lad was gone! Cowering in a corner I suppose-what women do to him is so damned shameful. There might've been a fight tonight (that Tybalt.again) had Master Capulet not prevented it. It may have been more entertaining.
Second Act to the First
Summer Evening -1506
.About Romeo: Do you know the lad disappeared into the night? He's probably roaming the woods or the meadows, cradling a basket of Rosemary and calling for Rosaline. I wonder if this "love" he so seeks give him a defiant strength-for when Ben and I approached the youth, he took off running and bounded over the Capulet orchard wall in their territory. If he gets caught- they'll kill him. He must know better.
Honestly, why do I think so much? The moon is high and I can only wonder where Romeo is and if poor Benvolio is tearing out his hair in anticipation of his return. Let him be caught-the fool! With his trying to conquer Venus, then I shall surely succeed him with the years of Life. I can tell ye right now where Venus's spiteful would-be captor doth lie! He leapt that orchard wall, and there, under the moon, glowing just as bright was the women he loves. She was out there for no real reason, merely admiring the night. Romeo, being frivolous and careful, waited patiently for her lips to part with the sound of his name. He bring not flowers or gems or money of any kind, but doth only offer himself. His Lover, being equally shocked and well offended would storm back into her room where she would brood-knowing she doth not want our poor ill-fated Messenger gone. She'll come back out and demand what he's doing in her orchard-on her family's land-for they will kill him if found he to be a Montague. He'll say if nothing but Death he can receive from her, then it a lovely and worthy token of her appreciation. He'll climb the orchards and swoon her with melodies and songs and words that would dumbfound the Anti-Venus. She in turn, will say his name like no other and henceforth it shall proceed. Ah, if only Rosaline were to be so kind as to give him a look that did not scorn his better person-that choppéd down his manhood. If only she might hold him and not let him leave till I am well asleep and the sun doth rise. If only Tybalt is not roaming their grounds in drunken fury and raises his sword at the sight of Romeo-proclaiming him "fair game" and slaughter him in the peak of his minutes with is Love. Heh. What kind of wicked temptress would provoke such actions upon a man she doth nor care for much less love?
Tis the night after the night before and what a day I've had! Some old, plump, puff of woman came seeking Romeo! My, oh, my-had that been the true Rosaline. Before Romeo had even showed up, looking of the disoriented nature, I was discussing Tybalt again to Benvolio with the same emotion as my first script. I may have confused him, which only makes me his better at word and swordplay. He is not nearly as good at banter with me such as Romeo or even villainous Tybalt. That nurse though, bothers me.had Romeo truly gone now to take a Capulet under his arm? Oh, woeful days filled with scandalous stories. Romeo always produces a fine laughter on my part.
This day is the first act of many.
Early-Summer 1506
Tis just another day in my drab, boring life. Romeo has gone off again, pining for "sweet" Rosaline, who, with my support, shan't give Romeo the time of day. It makes me laugh-really-should I pity him? .His being my friend and all.maybe.nah, not my style at all. Maybe there was a problem with me and not him, eh? Enough about Romeo, he's not my concern. That Tybalt, however, is beyond my concern and in many more ways than one would think. To anyone but, say, Benvolio, Tybalt is nothing more than a common villain in my eyes. He's a fancy-talking bastard; a wicked and thoroughly tormented Soul who'd rather go out and fight than take a maiden to bed. On that last bit, he gets my praises for as any should or would know, by the tip of my rapier women come and go. There is something I harbor in the depths of mine tempted heart when I see dearest Tybalt. Hmm.imagine the fancy the guys would have hearing about this. dare I say infatuation? Am I any better than that damnéd Romeo who would wander the Earth in the name of Rosaline? My candle doth grow low and the candle flickers like a timid heartbeat or maybe it is just my Heart breathing in the fire.
Same acts of Thought
So, it appears I cannot for the life of me actually fall asleep. Is it that I am so full with words at the moment and there's no one around for me to assail them with? Oy.there might be some tonic 'round here for me.but where am I to find an apothecary at this hour? I might as well recall the day a bit more. Well, with my trusted friends Romeo and Benvolio we went to a party. This wasn't just any party, dearest, t'was a Capulet party! Anyone who's anyone and even anyone who isn't knows that Montagues and Capulets don't associate with a brandished sword. I must say though, they've got daft servants to deliver their letters. He needed Romeo to read it for him! Romeo was reluctant on going, but I, Master of Words, did beseech him come and he did. I must say, for a woman who denounces love, Rosaline is rather pretty. She surely is not the Sun to the Earth or the loveliest rose in the bush but that's because my fancy does not lie with women. I would think Romeo had come to see her.but the lad was gone! Cowering in a corner I suppose-what women do to him is so damned shameful. There might've been a fight tonight (that Tybalt.again) had Master Capulet not prevented it. It may have been more entertaining.
Second Act to the First
Summer Evening -1506
.About Romeo: Do you know the lad disappeared into the night? He's probably roaming the woods or the meadows, cradling a basket of Rosemary and calling for Rosaline. I wonder if this "love" he so seeks give him a defiant strength-for when Ben and I approached the youth, he took off running and bounded over the Capulet orchard wall in their territory. If he gets caught- they'll kill him. He must know better.
Honestly, why do I think so much? The moon is high and I can only wonder where Romeo is and if poor Benvolio is tearing out his hair in anticipation of his return. Let him be caught-the fool! With his trying to conquer Venus, then I shall surely succeed him with the years of Life. I can tell ye right now where Venus's spiteful would-be captor doth lie! He leapt that orchard wall, and there, under the moon, glowing just as bright was the women he loves. She was out there for no real reason, merely admiring the night. Romeo, being frivolous and careful, waited patiently for her lips to part with the sound of his name. He bring not flowers or gems or money of any kind, but doth only offer himself. His Lover, being equally shocked and well offended would storm back into her room where she would brood-knowing she doth not want our poor ill-fated Messenger gone. She'll come back out and demand what he's doing in her orchard-on her family's land-for they will kill him if found he to be a Montague. He'll say if nothing but Death he can receive from her, then it a lovely and worthy token of her appreciation. He'll climb the orchards and swoon her with melodies and songs and words that would dumbfound the Anti-Venus. She in turn, will say his name like no other and henceforth it shall proceed. Ah, if only Rosaline were to be so kind as to give him a look that did not scorn his better person-that choppéd down his manhood. If only she might hold him and not let him leave till I am well asleep and the sun doth rise. If only Tybalt is not roaming their grounds in drunken fury and raises his sword at the sight of Romeo-proclaiming him "fair game" and slaughter him in the peak of his minutes with is Love. Heh. What kind of wicked temptress would provoke such actions upon a man she doth nor care for much less love?
Tis the night after the night before and what a day I've had! Some old, plump, puff of woman came seeking Romeo! My, oh, my-had that been the true Rosaline. Before Romeo had even showed up, looking of the disoriented nature, I was discussing Tybalt again to Benvolio with the same emotion as my first script. I may have confused him, which only makes me his better at word and swordplay. He is not nearly as good at banter with me such as Romeo or even villainous Tybalt. That nurse though, bothers me.had Romeo truly gone now to take a Capulet under his arm? Oh, woeful days filled with scandalous stories. Romeo always produces a fine laughter on my part.