1 DISCLAIMER: And yet again, I don't own anything…It all belongs to Shakespeare. Except for the plot and my three characters. Read and Review please. Also, if you want to, you can email me at quidam05@hotamil.com.

2 *** Gabby

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6 Chapter One continued



Mercutio laughed as Benvolio found a way to jest at Romeo's 'ailment' each time he spoke.

Romeo wore a sour look as they continued to talk.

They were all standing in the shadows, trying to get away from the rising sun, when three boys, about four years their junior walked into the courtyard with smiling faces, showing a look of pure mischief.

"Oy!" Mercutio called out to the one in front fondly. He walked out of the shadows, towards them.

"Mercutio! Tell me, has the Watch been called upon yet?" The boy, with a very feminine voice asked as they made their way towards him.

"Not yet. Where have you been Helena?" He asked, suddenly serious and protective.

Romeo and Benvolio, who were still in the shadows, looked at each other. They had never heard Mercutio so serious. But they knew that Helena was his younger sister by two years.

None of the three girls noticed the two young men in the shadows, watching them curiously.

"Now, now, I can't tell you all my secrets. Besides, we have an idea that just might work, we just have to get it straightened out first."

"Alright...Who are your friends?"

He had never met any of her friends. She had been away from home for the past two years at the school for ladies in the country of Gastanon.

She has just arrived home, just in time for the Feast of the Four Moons, the feast that celebrated when all the moons that surrounded Middle Othea would come out at the same time for sixteen days. Then, on the last day, the would all eclipse.

Helena smirked, knowing what she would say.

"The tallest is Sebastian. The one next to him is Claudio."

Mercutio smirked at her, knowing she wanted him to loose his temper on her. "And what's your name?" He thought for a moment, "Lysander?"

Helena smiled genuinely this time. "No, Demetrius."

He smiled back at her. "But really...who are you?"

"I am Olivia de Monticello. I am the daughter of the navy officer, Admiral Orlando Monticello." She said and bowed slightly.

"I am Hero Brazenstar, more commonly known as Hero of Waterfront, heir to the Gracinovian seat and granddaughter to Amandla the Elven prophet who is granddaughter to Jaredun, king of all the elves." She also bowed slightly.

"It is nice to meet you. Well, I suppose that I'll let you run along and plan whatever it is you're planning." Mercutio said and smiled at them innocently.

"We should be going anyway. We'll see you at the party. Come on Livia!" Hero said, bowing slightly again, and made her way towards the gates of the courtyard.

Olivia smiled at Helena. "I shall see you tonight at Juliet's." She whispered.

Olivia then smiled at Mercutio. She turned and left the courtyard, trailing swiftly after Hero.

Helena watched them leave and sighed heavily. "We have a long and strenuous road ahead." She thought.

As soon as Olivia left, Helena turned and ran towards her house, trying to make sure that her Nurse didn't see her while she sneaked into the manor house.

"Mercutio, as you know, my mother wanted Benvolio and I to be home early, before the hours hit one. It is half past twelve already. Unfortunately, we too must be off." Romeo said sadly.

"Yes, of course." He said, his mind on other matters.

Romeo and Benvolio simply smiled at him and left his courtyard.

Lord Capulet sighed as he said in his private study. A servant stood behind him in the corner, always ready to do some service.

He looked at the young knight before him. Count Paris's caring green eyes sparkled with their usual mirth as his fingers combed, somewhat anxiously through his dark brown hair.

"But Montague is bound as well as I. In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard, I think, for men so old as we to keep the peace." The Duke Capulet said, his steel grey eyes showing premature signs of age and stress. His black hair was becoming thinner on top and grey at the temples.

"Of honorable reckoning are you both, and pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?" Paris asked, wanting to get off the older man's problem and onto his on.

"But saying o'er what I have said before. My child is yet a stranger in the world. She hath not seen the change of sixteen years. Let two more summers wither in their pride, ere we may think her ripe to be a bride."

"Younger than she are happy mothers made." Paris said, trying to convince the duke.

"And too soon marred are those so early made. The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she, she is the hopeful lady of my earth. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart. My will to her consent is but a part. If she agrees, within her scope of choice, lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustomed feast, whereto I have invited many a guest. Such as I love, and you, among the store. One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house look to behold this night, earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light. Such comfort as do lusty young men feel when well-appareled April on the heel of limping winter treads, even such delight among fresh female buds shall you this night. Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see, and like her most whose merit most shall be. Which on more view, of many mine being one may stand in number, though in reckoning none. Come, go with me." Capulet said, stand up.

He turned to the servant in the corner and gave him a piece of paper. "Go, sirrah, trudge about through fair Verona. Find those persons out whose names are written there, and to them say, 'My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.'" Capulet turned, leading Paris, and walked out of the room.

The servant looked at the paper with a puzzled mind. He could not read a word of it, nor any word of any kind. He simply said, "Find them out whose names are written here! It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned."

The servant walked out of the Capulet home and down a few streets. He came upon to gentlemen who seemed to be having an unimportant conversation.

"Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning. One pain is lessened by another's anguish. Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning. One desperate grief cures with another's languish. Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die." The taller one said, smiling. His black hair shone in the bright sun.

Though the servant did not know it, his name was Benvolio, and he was of the house of Montague.

"Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that." The other said. He had hair the color of summer wheat and eyes the color of a blue jay's feather.

He was of the house of Montague as well. He was the heir to Montague himself. He was called Romeo.

"For what, I pray thee?" The other asked.

"For your broken shin."

"Why, Romeo, art thou mad?"

"Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented and--God-den, good fellow." Romeo said, finally noticing the distraught servant.

The servant smiled warmly at him. "God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?"

"Ay, mine own fortune in my misery."

"Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I pray, can you read any thing you see?"

"Ay, if I know the letters and the language."

"Ye say honestly: rest you merry!"

"Stay, fellow; I can read." He said, calling the servant back. He took the list from the man and began to read: "'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his sister Helena; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia Monticello; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Isabella.' A fair assembly: whither should they come?"

"Up."

"Whither?"

"To supper; to our house."

"Whose house?"

"My master's."

"Indeed, I should have asked you that before."

"Now, I shall tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet. And if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry!"

Benvolio looked at his cousin. "At this same ancient feast of Capulet's sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so love, with all the admired beauties of Verona. Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, compare her face with some that I shall show, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow."

"When the devout religion of mine eye maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires. And these, who often drowned could never die, transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all- seeing sun never saw her match since first the world begun."

"Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, herself poised with herself in either eye. But in that crystal scales let there be weighed your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, and she shall scant show well that now shows best."

Romeo looked at him and sighed deeply. "I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own."

"Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me." Lady Capulet said kindly.

Lady Capulet's black eyes showed wisdom and youth, though she was not young. Her chestnut brown hair was up, hidden by a cloth that covered her head.

"Now, by my maidenhead, at fifteen year old, I bade her come. What, lamb! What,

ladybird! God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!" Juliet's nurse called out.

Juliet walked into the room. Her hair was no longer in a cap, but cascading down her back in soft, chestnut curls. Her steel grey eyes shone with happiness, as usual. She wore a long blue dress, no longer in a common boy's clothes.

"How now! who calls?" She asked, her voice strong and commanding, yet soft and gentle.

"Your mother."

"Madam, I am here. What is your will?"

Lady Capulet looked at her daughter with pride and love.

"This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back

again. I have remembered me, thou's hear our counsel. Thou know my daughter's of a pretty age." Lady Capulet said.

"Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour." The nurse said, her voice sounding like a mother hen's towards her chick.

"She's not sixteen." Lady Capulet said.

"I'll lay sixteen of my teeth,--And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- She is not sixteen. How long is it now to Lammas-tide?"

"A fortnight and odd days."

"Even or odd, of all days in the year, come Lammas-eve at night shall she be sixteen. Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God. She was too good for me but, as I said, on Lammas-eve at night shall she be sixteen. That shall she, marry; I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now fourteen years; And she was weaned,-- I never shall forget it,– Of all the days of the year, upon that day. For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall. My lord and you were then at Mantua. -- Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, when it did taste the wormwood on the nipple of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, to see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge. And since that time it is fourteen years. For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, She could have run and waddled all about. For even the day before, she broke her brow. And then my husband--God be with his soul! A' was a merry man--took up the child. 'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' To see, now, how a jest shall come about! I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'"

"Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace." Lady Capulet said, feeling Juliet's embarrassment.

"Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, to think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' and yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockerel's stone. A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,' quoth my husband, 'fallest upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age. Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'"

"And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I." Juliet said, she was past embarrassment and moving on to anger.

"Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that ever I

nursed. An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish."

"Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, how stands your disposition to be married?" Lady Capulet said.

"It is an honor that I dream not of." Juliet answered.

"An honor! were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou had thy wisdom sucked from thy teat." The nurse cried out.

"Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you, here in Verona, ladies of esteem, are made already mothers. By my count, I was your mother much upon these years, that you are now a maid. Thus then in brief, the valiant Paris seeks you for his love." Lady Capulet said, sending her daughter a look of seriousness.

"A man, young lady! lady, such a man as all the world--why, he's a man of wax." The nurse said.

"Verona's summer hath not such a flower."

"Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower."

"What say you? Can you love the gentleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast. Read over the volume of young Paris' face, and find delight writ there with beauty's pen. Examine every married lineament, and see how one another lends content nd what obscured in this fair volume lies. Find written in the margent of his eyes. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, to beautify him, only lacks a cover. The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride for fair without the fair within to hide. That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, that in gold clasps locks in the golden story. So shall you share all that he doth possess, by having him, making yourself no less."

"No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men."

"Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?"

"I'll look to like, if looking liking move. But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly."

Suddenly, a servant came in. "Madam," He said, "the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you, follow straight."

"We follow thee," Lady Capulet said, sending the servant away. "Juliet, the county stays."

"Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days." The nurse said, and kissed her cheek.

Romeo, Benvolio, and Mercutio all walked down the streets in merriment.

"What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without a apology?" Romeo asked suddenly, making himself stop.

Benvolio looked at him and answered, "The date is out of such prolixity. We'll have no Cupid hoodwinked with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper. Nor no without- book prologue, faintly spoke after the prompter, for our entrance. But let them measure us by what they will. We'll measure them a measure, and be gone."

"Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light." Romeo said grumpily.

"Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance." Mercutio said, his voice full of joy and spirit.

"Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move." Romeo said simply, yet still darkly.

"You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings, and soar with them above a common bound."

"I am too sore enpierced with his shaft to soar with his light feathers, and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe. Under love's heavy burden do I sink."

"And, to sink in it, should you burden love. Too great oppression for a tender thing."

"Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn."

"If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in. A visor for a visor! What care I what curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me."

"Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, but every man betake him to his legs." Benvolio said, a smile on his face.

"A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, for I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase. I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done." Romeo said.

"Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word. If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stickest up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!" Mercutio said, running up the street ahead.

"Nay, that's not so."

"I mean, sir, in delay we waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits five times in that ere once in our five wits."

"And we mean well in going to this mask. But 'tis no wit to go."

"Why, may one ask?"

"I dreamed a dream to-night."

"And so did I."

"Well, what was yours?" Romeo asked curiously.

"That dreamers often lie."

"In bed asleep, while they do dream things true."

"O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone on the fore- finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep. Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover of the wings of grasshoppers, the traces of the smallest spider's web, the collars of the moonshine's watery beams, her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, not so big as a round little worm pricked from the lazy finger of a maid. Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coach makers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love. Over courtiers' knees, that dream on courtesies straight, over lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, over ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometime she gallops over a courtier's nose, and then dreams he of smelling out a suit. And sometime comes she with a tithe- pig's tail tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, then dreams, he of another benefice. Sometime she driveth over a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted swears a prayer or two And sleeps again. This is that very Mab that plats the manes of horses in the night, and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes. This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, that presses them and learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage. This is she--" Mercutio said, getting louder and angrier at every sentence.

"Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! Thou talkest of nothing." Romeo said, quieting him down.

"True, I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain. Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south."

"This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves. Supper is done, and we shall come too late." Benvolio said, breaking their quietness.

"I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels and expire the term of a despised life closed in my breast, by some vile forfeit of untimely death. But He, that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen."

"Strike, drum!" Benvolio cried out.

Lord Capulet laughed as each of his guests came in. He teased the ladies and jested with the men.

"Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. Ah ha, my mistresses! Which of you all will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, she, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day That I have worn a visor and could tell a whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone. You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls." He cried out to the musicians. They began to play and he smiled as people began to dance. "More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, and quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet. For you and I are past our dancing days. How long is't now since last yourself and I were in a mask?" He asked the man.

"By your lady, thirty years." The old man of the Capulet said. He was Lord Capulet's great-uncle, more commonly known as Odd William, for he spoke of ending the feud between the Montagues. Something that no one seemed to want to do.

"What, man! 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much. 'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, come Pentecost as quickly as it will. Some five and twenty years. And then we masked."

"'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir. His son is thirty."

"Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago."

Romeo said to a serving man, "What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?"

The servant looked at him and then at the lady he was pointing at. "I know not, sir."

Romeo looked at her, "O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiopi's ear. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night."

Romeo went across the room, to watch the fair beauty from the corner that she was closest to.

Her chestnut brown hair looked almost red in the lighting and her pale grey eyes looked almost smoky.

Tybalt, who had been standing near the servant, looked over to where he had heard the familiar voice.

"This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave Come hither, covered with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, to strike him dead, I hold it not a sin."

"Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?" Lord Capulet intervened his nephew.

"Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, a villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn at our solemnity this night."

"Young Romeo is it?" He said, observing the young man watch the dancers.

"'Tis he, that villain Romeo."

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone. He bears him like a portly gentleman. And, to say truth, Verona brags of him to be a virtuous and well- governed youth. I would not for the wealth of all the town here in my house do him disparagement. Therefore be patient, take no note of him. It is my will, the which if thou respect, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, and ill-beseeming semblance for a feast."

"It fits, when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him." Tybalt said haughtily.

"He shall be endured. What, goodman boy! I say, he shall. Go to! Am I the master here, or you? Go to! You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!" Capulet said, losing what patience he had with the boy.

"Why, uncle, 'tis a shame."

"Go to, go to! You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed? This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what. You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time. Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go. Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!"

"Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall." he said, and walked over to where he could watch Romeo.

Romeo, who was looking into Juliet's eyes, whispered softly, "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Juliet looked at him and blushed. Then, she whispered back, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

Romeo looked at her with mischief in his dark blue eyes, "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

Juliet looked at him in confusion, "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

Romeo smiled at her confusion. "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

Realization dawned on Juliet, "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

Romeo smiled again. "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. Heat spread like a wild fire throughout their bodies, though their kiss was as soft as an angel's wing.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took." Juliet said, her mind hazy.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." He said, and kissed her again.

"You kiss by the book." Juliet said, still breathless.

Tybalt was watching from across the room and he began to make his way toward the couple.

Hero saw this and instantly cringed at the thought of Tybalt angry. She hit Olivia and Helena on their shoulders and pointed toward Romeo and Juliet.

Both let out a heart-felt sigh.

Hero rolled her eyes and hit them again. She pointed toward Tybalt who was making his way across the room.

Both Olivia and Helena gasped.

Helena immediately took control. "Liv and I'll get Romeo and Juliet out of his sight. You handle Tybalt."

"Why me?"

"Because you hit hard." She said, rubbing her stinging shoulder.

Olivia and Helena made their way to the couple smoothly. No one had seen them.

Hero let out a deep breath and put a sweet smile on her face. She made her way, determinedly toward Tybalt.

"Tybalt!" She called after she got within four feet from him.

He turned toward her. "Yes, milady?" His voice was testy, and his eyes irritated.

"You have not danced once this night. Come, we shall dance." She grabbed his hand and led him to the lines of the dancers.

The Prince laughed at Lord Capulet's joke, and turned his eyes towards the dancing pairs. He saw a girl, about the age of fifteen dancing with Tybalt.

Her raven hair went down to her waist in a flood of ripples and curls. Her eyes where the color of the brown leaves in the fall when the light hit just right, and at other times they were more like cinnamon.

Olivia and Helena rounded a corner, taking the long way to the couple, but before they could reach their destination, Juliet's nurse's voice rang out.

"Madam!" The nurse said, nearly rounding the corner.

Romeo and Juliet jumped two feet from each other, both ways.

"Madam, your mother craves a word with you." She said, when she arrived.

Juliet bowed to him lightly and left him.

Romeo looked at the nurse, "What is her mother?"

"Marry, bachelor, her mother is the lady of the house, and a good lady, and a wise and virtuous. I nursed her daughter, that you talked withal. I tell you, he that can lay hold of her shall have the chinks." She said, and walked off.

"Is she a Capulet? O dear account! my life is my foe's debt."

Benvolio came up to him, "Away, begone. The sport is at the best."

Helena let out a dreamy sigh. Olivia simply rolled her eyes.

"Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest." Romeo replied.

Lord Capulet showed everyone out, "Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone. We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. Is it e'en so? Why, then, I thank you all, I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night. More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late. I'll to my rest." He said and left for his own room.

Juliet stood by and watched everyone leave. "Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?"

The Nurse came up to Juliet and answered."The son and heir of old Tiberio."

"What's he that now is going out of door?"

"Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio."

"What's he that follows there, that would not dance?"

"I know not."

"Go ask his name, if he be married. My grave is like to be my wedding bed."

The nurse went away and came back after a short time.

"His name is Romeo, and a Montague. The only son of your great enemy."

"My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy."

"What's this? what's this?"

"A rhyme I learned even now of one I danced withal."

Somewhere from inside the Capulet's manor house, someone called out, "Juliet!"

"Anon, anon! Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone."