RichardIII1955 - Wait until you meet Sir Hugh Jass!
The Plantagenets are here, and Mercutio's winding them up! So, let's get to know a few of the ladies. Be warned, there is some husband-bashing. And I'm not sure the real Edouard was a 'Kitten-Killer.'
Anne's Italian was not very good. She had doubted she would enjoy her stay in Italy. Her doubts had initially become true when Prince Mercutio had flung a stink bomb in through the window of the room she shared with Edouard. But then two sisters, one who was the heir to Lord Capulet, and the other, her illegitimate half-sister, had taken her under her wing. They spoke English that was, whilst poor, at the very least understandable. And Anne had begun to feel...a little more at home.
"Come see Gabriel," instructed Hermia, pulling her along, "He crazy but speak many language. This way!"
Hermia steered Anne around the gardens of Verona Palace, with Juliet following after. It was a beautiful sunny day. A variety of pavilions were set up on little verandas around the grounds. Guests were dotted around, enjoying the day. Amparo sat at the head of a table under one that was entwined with honeysuckle growing up the lattice. Fat rose bushes bloomed all around, the fragrance of their flowers tantalising the air. To Amparo's side, Gabriel, evidently missing dance rehearsal, sat delicately arranging a tray of cakes and light refreshments.
"This Signorina Duarte," said Juliet, "She politician."
"Hello, Lady Anne," said Amparo, using the few words of English that she had asked Gabriel to teach her.
"This Gabriel, who speak many language," said Juliet. She turned, and addressed Gabriel in Italian, "This is Lady Anne Neville. Have you met her before?"
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure. I have been away from Escalus' court for some time now," said Gabriel, sounding surprisingly polite.
"Well, if you would be so kind, Gabriel, I need you to translate between us all," said Amparo, "Ask Lady Anne to sit down and offer her a cake."
Gabriel got up and pulled out a chair, "Here, sit down with us. We have cakes, and tea."
"Thank you," said Anne, surprised at the kindness and hospitality of the Italians, after the coldness at Edouard and Margaret's court.
Hermia was already tucking into a chocolate cake. Juliet let Anne take one before her.
"Ask Lady Anne how she likes Italy," instructed Amparo in Italian.
"She says it's beautiful and it's warm, and the people are kind" Gabriel translated back to Amparo.
"Ask her what she thinks of Mercutio!" snickered Hermia.
"No, Hermia, not after how he terrorized her with that damn stink bomb!"
"It was meant for Edouard, he hardly meant it maliciously!" giggled Hermia.
"Not funny!" dismissed Juliet.
"Could you tell them that these cakes are delicious?" asked Anne.
"Of course," said Gabriel. He turned back, and translated for the other women.
"Chocolate best," Hermia nodded. She sat up straight, and looked over at the bouncy castle where Mercutio was trying to get Hamlet to play with him. Romeo and Benvolio were trying to dissuade him, but it wasn't working, "Anne, see that guy in glasses? That my Ben."
"And that is my Romeo," added Juliet.
"And Gabriel is mine," Amparo affectionately caressed Gabriel's blond hair. It was like a stab in the heart to Anne. They were all so happy together. Why couldn't she be happy like that too? Why had they made her marry the evil Lancaster heir? It wasn't fair.
"Anne, sei triste," said Hermia.
"She says you look sad," Gabriel translated.
"I am sad," admitted Anne.
"Perchè sei triste?" asked Hermia.
"She asked why you are sad," Gabriel turned back to Anne.
"For a lot of reasons," sighed Anne.
"Perhaps you would like to tell us," said Amparo gently, as Gabriel whispered the translation.
"I can't," whispered Anne.
"Gabriel, translate for me again," instructed Amparo, "Tell her she need not fear. I'm only a Veronese MP, no one important. I only want to be a sympathetic ear."
"What are they on about?" whispered Hermia to Juliet.
Juliet turned to her, "The conflict in England is wrecking havoc on the economy, and the Italian city states are considering supporting a side in order to bring an end to the conflict faster and restore safe trading. Amparo has asked if she would be able to assess the personalities and skill at ruling of each fraction so that she could tell which side to support."
Hermia looked confused, "What has this got to do with us?"
"Amparo told me she'll help Anne if I gave her the chance to speak to her. That's what we're here for," said Juliet.
"It's...it's just..." Anne trembled, buckling under Amparo's penetrative glare, "Edouard is evil! He's a psycho! He bullies his poor little cousin, Henry Tudor, and he killed my kitten!"
"He killed a kitten!" shrieked Gabriel, "Cat-killer! The bastard!"
"Gabriel, shut your mouth!" hissed Amparo, "Everyone is looking at you."
Gabriel did.
"Well. He wouldn't make a very good king," remarked Amparo, "What about King Edward?"
"King Edward gave us several years of peace. He likes people to like him, and he likes to like people. He doesn't treat people cruelly if they don't deserve it. He's a lovely brother to..." a blush crept up Anne's cheek, "Richard."
Amparo listened to Gabriel's translations, and turned to give her reply.
"And, why don't you tell me a bit about him?" asked Amparo.
Anne's blush bloomed, "He's a good man. Loyal. Doesn't forget his friends."
"That's good to hear," said Amparo, satisfied, after hearing Gabriel's interpretation.
"Lei è terrorizzata," observed Hermia, "Amparo, Gabriel, smettere. Sta scuotendo."
"What did she say?" asked Anne, her face white.
"She says you look scared," explained Gabriel, "You're shaking."
Anne glanced at her fingers. Hermia had been right. They were shaking.
"Here, drink this," Gabriel poured her a pot of tea, "Calm down. We will keep you safe. And if I see the 'Kitten-Killer' then I'll-"
"Thank you, Lady Anne," said Amparo, her mind firmly made up, "You must not tell anyone of our conversation, but do not fear. I will see if there is anything in my power to help you."
"Gabe, tell Anne she can stay with us," urged Hermia "We can arrange it. She'll be safe here."
"Don't call me Gabe!" snapped Gabriel, before turning and repeating her words to Anne.
"Thank you again, Lady Anne," said Amparo, standing up to leave, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must speak with Queen Elizabeth, to see how she is enjoying her stay so far."
"In Italy, you safe," Hermia began to say, "I protect you. I fight Edouard if want."
Anne smiled at the first friends she'd had in months, "Grazie."
Rosaline watched as her half-brother and his girlfriend departed Hermia, Juliet, and one of the girls from the English court.
"Your grace, may I ask who she is?" Rosaline discreetly pointed. For the past year or so, Rosaline had taken advantage of her universities language learning classes. She now spoke a fair amount of English.
"That's Anne Neville. Edouard's wife. My brother-in-law's childhood sweetheart," said Elizabeth.
"Don't you mean was?" asked Lady Macbeth. The trio snickered. Amparo and Gabriel were now approaching them.
"Here come the rest of our guests," remarked Elizabeth, "Am I correct to believe that is your brother, Lady Rosaline?"
"I'm not Lady Rosaline, I'm Signora Capulet," replied Rosaline, "And yes, your grace, that is my brother."
She wished she was a lady, though. She'd always wanted a title. Queen Rosaline sounded fine, but it was out of the question. Princess Rosaline was a little more within her grasp, but was once again highly unlikely. Lady Rosaline was not out of the question. There were plenty of bachelors in Verona who could have given her that title. But Rosaline had always wanted to be Rosaline Capulet. As a girl, she had always believed that to be the height of prestige. But for the first time, she truly saw how...quite...insignificant, the Capulets were in relation to the rest of the world.
They were just one noble family, in one city, in one country. The Plantagenets were spread out all over Europe through marriage. The Macbeths had Scotland in their back pocket. And Rosaline had married Lord Capulet's nephew by his younger sister. He wasn't even going to inherit anything, and he barely ever was invited to court.
She'd given up her surname, Oftmoro, so eagerly to take Tybalt's, to become part of the elusive clan that was the Capulet family. Why? Was it because her mother's family was diminished and she'd never have her own wealthy influential family? All she was now, was Rosaline Capulet.
Rosaline sighed, looking longingly at Lady Macbeth and Queen Elizabeth. Oh, if only she was like them...if only she had riches and power...Lady Macbeth practically ran Glamis. All Macbeth had to do was her bidding. And Queen Elizabeth had risen through the ranks like Rosaline herself, except she was now a queen, and Rosaline was still only at university. Queen Rosaline sounded so wonderful...
But even though Elizabeth was queen, people still referred to her as Elizabeth Woodville. No matter what Rosaline did, her roots would always be the same. Suddenly, it occurred to Rosaline that her maiden name had been Oftmoro, not Fulgencio. She wondered why that was. Her parents had been married at the time of her birth, it made sense for her parents' to have given her Angelo's surname.
Her mind then turned to Angelo. She had been cold towards him the last time they spoke. But then, she was in shock. But now she thought on it, it made no sense. Angelo had dated around for years. He knew the boundaries well enough. Before her wedding to Tybalt, Angelo had offered to kill him if he set one toe out of line. One wrong word, one dirty look, and he'd have sorted him out. So why would he harass someone himself?
Maybe she should talk to him again, and get his side of the story. She shouldn't give up now, not when she'd worked so hard to build a relationship.
"Hello, Gabriel," said Rosaline, "Amparo."
Rosaline had admiration for Amparo. She was the sort of woman Rosaline had hoped to become, yet at the same time, she was suspicious of her. There was so much...ambition in those dark eyes of hers. Maybe people saw it in her own ice blue ones, but Rosaline did not like to see it in other people's eyes.
"Hi, Rosaline," Gabriel turned and bowed to Elizabeth, "Your grace, Lady Macbeth."
Amparo followed suit. Rosaline watched her, taking note of her appearance and behaviour. There was nothing suspicious about the way she looked. She looked professional as ever, in her black suit. But what Rosaline was curious about was how she had gone from talking to Lady Anne Neville, who was the wife of the Lancaster heir, to Elizabeth, who was the Yorkist's queen.
"Gabriel, please tell Queen Elizabeth thank you for inviting me to join her out on the terrace."
Gabriel turned, and translated Amparo's message into English. Rosaline was able to follow the simpler words. She wondered why Amparo had dragged Gabriel out of his beloved dance rehearsals to translate for her, when there were half a dozen translators dotted around the palace for conversation.
"Queen Elizabeth says you are most welcome, and it is a pleasure to be able to acquaint herself with some of the saner inhabitants of Verona," replied Gabriel. Rosaline masked a giggle, and the corners of Lady Macbeth's mouth lifted in a smile. Elizabeth's children shrieked and played on the rug that a nanny had laid down for them. Rosaline frowned. How was she going to hear what was being said?
Somehow, Amparo managed to steer the conversation onto the topics of husbands. What did she want to hear about that for? From what Rosaline knew of Amparo, she knew she was not fond of discussing typical women's topics.
"Oh, he might be king, but he leaves his dirty socks lying around the bedroom like a slob," complained Elizabeth.
"Oh, just like Tybalt!" Rosaline couldn't resist adding.
"Oh, Macbeth can never get around to doing jobs. I have to nag and nag him, or do it myself!" complained Lady Macbeth.
"And Tybalt snores," Rosaline wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, I hate it when Edward snores! Especially when he's drunk!"
"Tybalt gets drunk all the time!" Rosaline rolled her eyes.
Amparo looked bored and restless. Gabriel was giggling delightedly.
"So does Ned! Once, he got so drunk," Elizabeth glowered "He called me by his ex girlfriend's name!"
"Oh, Macbeth did that once! I was so angry, but I bided my time, and then called him by my ex boyfriend's name on our wedding anniversary. He soon learnt his lesson!"
"Oh, I love it!" Gabriel giggled, "That's so beautifully bitchy!"
Later that evening, Rosaline rested her elbows on the window sill, gazing out over the grounds of the Capulet Manor. When she was little, the Capulet Manor had seemed like the biggest place in the world. But now she realised that there really wasn't that much of it at all.
What did all the other castles look like? What did Lady Macbeth's castle up in the heights of Scotland look like? And what was Elizabeth's court like? Rosaline so badly wanted to see it. When the war was done, and everything had been restored to it's proper place. She wanted to see it all.
"Hello?" said Angelo, after she dialled his name.
"Hi, Dad."
"Rosaline!" he sounded delighted to hear from her, which was unusual. Angelo was not given to excessive displays of emotions.
"How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine."
There was something hesitant in Angelo's voice. He sounded too casual. Rosaline frowned. Something suspicious was going on. First Amparo, and now Angelo. She knew how to smell a rat, and she smelt one now.
"Anyway, it's not about me, it's about you. How are you?" asked Angelo, "Are you enjoying the pre wedding entertainments? Have you made friends with any of the guests?"
"Oh, yes, I love it. Queen Elizabeth likes me, she asks me to sit with her, and play with her children, even though I don't like them. But mostly we sit and talk. She says I'm beautiful and it's a shame that I've never travelled to any of the other courts. And Lady Macbeth likes me too. She says I'm clever and that I'll go far. She thinks my business plans have great potential. Today, we all sat out on the terrace talking. Everything was fine until Amparo and Gabriel showed up and starting talking about husbands. They soon left, because we bored them all to tears by talking about when they leave their dirty socks on the floor. Serve her right for intruding anyway!"
"Amparo wanted to talk to you about husbands?"
"Yes," said Rosaline, "It seemed very suspicious to me. I'd seen her talking to Slut One and Slut Two – that's Hermia and Juliet if you're wondering – and Lady Anne Neville, Edouard of Lancaster's wife. Why would she be talking to a Lancaster and then a Yorkist?"
Angelo was silent for a moment.
"Dad? Are you all right?"
"Oh, I think I know why," he muttered.
"Why?"
"The civil war in England," explained Angelo, "Before I was suspended, we were debating whether or not to declare an alliance to a particular side. I know what Amparo's doing."
"She's talking to the wives on each side to find out what they're really like," Rosaline said, almost as quickly as Angelo just finished talkingm "That's a good idea. That's a very good idea,"
Angelo was silent, "It is a good idea," he admitted. He sounded almost regretful.
"What's the matter?" asked Rosaline.
"Nothing," lied Angelo. He paused, "Rosaline, do you forgive me yet? For the harassment thing?"
"Will you tell me your side of the story?"
"Until you can forgive me, I will."
He told her. Once again, it was difficult to know who was in the right. It was his word against hers.
But he was her dad. He always took her word against other people. Even when she was blatantly wrong. And now he needed someone on his side.
"Until I can come back," said Angelo, "Can you do me a favour?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"I need to you to keep an eye on Amparo. I think she's up to something. I don't know precisely what yet. I think it's a bit suspicious. That Isabella, she's her friend. And Isabella has always opposed by party policies. But then, why would she be in league with Amparo, when Amparo is in my party and shares many of my political opinions? If anything, Amparo is even more extreme than I am."
"I have as little idea as you do, dad," said Rosaline.
"I'll tell you what, Rosaline. Save yourself some back-stabbing, and never enter politics," sighed Angelo.
"It's too late for that."
Amparo knocked gently on Margaret's door, "Your majesty?"
There was no answer.
"Your majesty?" Amparo called again. Gabriel hovered impatiently.
A shrill voice pierced the air, "Pourquoi pensez-vous levez pas et agissez comme un homme, pour une fois dans votre vie! Vous êtes inutiles par rapport à votre père! Vous me laisser seul avec notre fils pour combattre vos batailles, alors que vous allez devenir fou!"
"Désolé, Marguerite, je suis désolé!" sobbed a voice.
"What are they saying? asked Amparo.
"Vous êtes une blague inutiles d'un père!" snarled a third.
Gabriel told her.
"Never mind," Amparo shook her head, "I shall report back to Escalus."