Act I; Scene IV Summery: While having a time of revelry out in the Quidditch Pitch, Fred, George, and Angelina are approached by Marcus Flint who continues to act superior to them. After Marcus exits, Angelina come up with a plot to make Marcus seem like a fool: She will forge a letter from Penelope to make it seem as if Penelope is in love with him. After reading it, Angelina assumes that Marcus would then go and make a fool out of himself in front of the girl whom so many men in Hogsmeade have courted.

Act I; Scene IV

(Enter Fred and George)

George: If rum be the drink of the liver, then let it be my livery!

Fred: By my troth, thou hath offended even the Fool! Say, where is our Captain?

George: This time of night, a captain oft lie in his bed. Our captain but alone, muttering sweet moans of "Penelope!" in such a way to cause him to drown within his sheets!

Fred: Alas, Oliver still doth woo the damsel of our brother's fancy?

George: He hath never wooed her, but more just given heartfelt sighs whenever he name 'twas mentioned. See not however he spakes of her soft lips, her glowing eyes, and her smooth thighs which but....

(Enter Angelina)

Angelina: How now, good twins. I doth have heard George's lustrous commentaries about our captain. I say with utmost regret, Sir George, that our captain dost not think of thou as he thinks of thine Lady Penelope.

George: Spite you, woman! How dare thou make such awful conclusions as to me being able to die within the eyes of our captain! Bonny wench!

Angelina: 'Tis but your folly, drunkard. Being how we cannot practise without our captain, do entertain us with a song and dance, Sir Fred.

Fred: I would not be the Fool of man, if I did not fool men and women alike! A drinking song, perhaps?

George: I have the rum!

Fred: Aye, good brother! And I have the voice!

(sings)

"O mistress mine where are you roaming?

O, stay and hear! your true love's coming,

That can sing both high and low;

High and low!

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

Journey ends in lovers' meeting ;

Every wise man's son doth know!

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter;

What's to come is still unsure;

Still unsure!

In delay there lies no plenty;

Then come kiss me sweet and twenty,

Youth's a stuff will not endure!"

George: Such a good song goes with such a good drink!

Angelina: 'Tis but a happy night! Though I know not why!

Fred: For we are but alive, be that not happy enough?

(Enter Marcus)

Marcus: Such a racket at this hour? Is it not too late for you fools three to be awake?

George: Nay for 'too late' hath passed three hours ago, and it is now 'too early' to be asleep.

Marcus: Sir George, the Lady bade me that I shalt speak to you about how your drunken madness hath frenzied the Court. She said that thou would gain more respect if thou were to act as if he were from the noble family to which he was born, instead of a kitchen knave.

Fred: Are you not out of your league, Servant of the Lady? Thou art nothing more than a well-dressed squib! If your well cleansed clothes were to be dirtied, than you would be no higher than Filch; therefore you cannot speak to two noble men in such tongue!

Marcus: I bid you adieu, fools three, as I wish not to be stricken with your ignorance.

(Exit Marcus)

Angelina: Ignorant squib! Thinking himself higher than those with higher title!

So self-absorbed is this man that he think that every creature which

Lay eyes upon him doth love him!

He speaks with a sort of mock intelligent tongue which only makes him

Seem all the more a fool.

Fred: What say you we do about this knave, then?

Angelina: Make him aware of his stature through humiliation.

Fred: How so?

Angelina: Mine penmanship is close to that of the Lady Penelope, as we all can see from this letter which I hold here in my hands. With the exception of my "P" and my "Q", we are nearly one for one. Perhaps the greatest letter the same are "M", "A", "U", and "C". All of which are in the name Marcus!

George: Quit your banter, woman, what be your plan?

Angelina: Do you see it not? I shall write a fake letter of love, addressing it from the lady, Marcus shall have it sent to him by owl post, thus he would think that he is the object of the Lady's desire!

Fred: By my wand it is genius!

Angelina: Then he shall approach the lady, expecting her to love but instead she shall laugh for it shall be stated within the letter that he shall come dressed in a yellow cape over brown breeches, and yellow knee socks! How the Lady hates the colour yellow, as she calls it "the colour of the liver!"

George: (Looks away, as he is dressed in yellow)

Fred: So it shall be! A stage for humour, mockery, and karma entwined!