Ciao readers.

Welcome to Chapter 21! I'm so happy with all your reviews and thank you very much for everyone who is enjoying. It won't be long until this story will be complete. *sniff*

Anyway, in response to Ivanneth's wonderful review, thanks very much about the fantastic story thing, I'm really glad you said that! Also, Chapter Nine - you are absolutely right. I had feared no one would notice! Good eye. I was thinking about having Allegra have a little ... erm... thing for Benvolio, but I thought the relationship between Allegra and Mercutio was just too strong to be ripped apart by Benvolio's interference, and that I didn't want Mercutio to ever get too close to losing his friendship with Benvolio. I guess now, as Allegra/Benvolio has never and will never happen in this story, those hints in Chapter Nine look like Allegra was thinking about it, and then forgot about it and never thought about it again.

Also, Pargoletta - Yeah. You're right, I could have added Tybalt's trial in, but I feared it wouldn't have been entertaining enough. I guess I was wrong. Hehe... the shadow knows... my mom read your review and didn't get it... and I did.... weird.

Enjoy, everyone! (Correct me if I'm wrong, I believe in the past I have made it clear that I'm fond of reviews.)

Note - The dialogue in the second part of this is pure Shakespeare, Act Three, Scene One. I OWN NONE OF IT.

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"Marry, choke me not!" Allegra laughed, and Benvolio loosened his embrace and smile down at her. Allegra took a deep breath. "Dost thou wish to strangle the child of the man who is nearly thy kinsman?"

Benvolio squeezed Allegra's hands. "Ah, 'tis Mercutio's child! Mercutio's child! Ay me, Allegra, he shall be overjoyed." Benvolio laughed in happiness until a new thought crossed his mind.

"Ay, I know." Allegra read his face. "This is our issue."

Benvolio gave Allegra another embrace. "I am glad for thyself and Mercutio, truly glad. But, Allegra, shouldst thou tell another soul of this, 'twill look bad."

"I care not," Allegra insisted, "and nor shall Mercutio. A child is a child, bastard or not." Allegra paused.

"What might ail thee now, my friend?" Benvolio asked.

"Ben, thou knowest Mercutio is not a gentleman to ever marry."

"And thou art not a lady to ever marry."

"Benvolio," Allegra said, "I know not of that anymore. I bare now Mercutio's child. If this child shall not tie down his spirit, I know not what shall. Marriage shall be just the same."

Benvolio bit his lip. "Thou speakest of marriage, Allegra, and he still doth not know of thy news."

"Shalt thou tell him?" Allegra blurted. "Thou art his brother, nearly. Canst thou not -"

"Nay, I cannot," Benvolio replied, shaking his head.

"Oh, why not?" Allegra asked. "Canst thou not tell him for me? He may be angry with me, he may be angry with himself. He may hate me, and leave me." Her eyes widened. "What if he doth leave me, and what is he doth blame this fate on me? Shall he think me a harlot?"

Benvolio shook his head, and Allegra was silent. "Nay, he never will hate thee. He thinketh thou a lady of grand pride, and shall never be happier with thee than he shall to-day."

Allegra continued to look at Benvolio, and did not look away or even blink. Benvolio sighed.

"I will tell him."

It was Allegra who embraced Benvolio this time,

. . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . .

Benvolio tried to get Mercutio stop and talk. He could not, after all, just burst out, "Mercutio, Allegra is pregnant" - Mercutio would never believe him. Benvolio tried everything he could get Mercutio to stop and talk as they walked through blazing hot Verona that day. When Benvolio tried to use the heat and the Capulets as an excuse for what had to be the tenth time that day, Mercutio ignored him. Mercutio had put his handkerchief over his face and spoke through it. It looked ridiculous*, but Benvolio was too nervous to be amused.

"I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire!" said Benvolio, wiping the sweat from his forehead as they walked. "The day is hot; the Capulets, abroad; And if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl, For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring."

Mercutio pulled the handkerchief from his face. "Blah, blah, blah! Thou art like one of those fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says "God send me no need of thee!" and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the drawer when indeed there is no need."

Benvolio scoffed. "Am I like such a fellow?"

Mercutio nodded as though it was obvious. "Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved."

Thinking it might be the right time to start to tell Mercutio, Benvolio opened his mouth. Instead, his words came out as, "And what to?" Benvolio scolded himself inside his head for lacking the courage he needed.

"Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou, why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun."

By now, Benvolio and Mercutio had already long entered the plaza. Shaking, Benvolio sat and just looked at his friend. It was unbelievable how he could go and on this way, all the awhile unaware he was going to be a father. A lump in Benvolio's throat kept him from speaking.

"Didst thou not fall out with a tailor," Mercutio rambled on, "for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling! Pssh."

Mercutio added this 'pssh' for no other reason but he wanted Benvolio to speak. He did this often. Benvolio, cowering again, found his voice and answered as though he truly cared, "An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter."

"The fee simple? O simple -!"

"By my head, here comes the Capulets." Benvolio's worries doubled. Mercutio saw the worry in his friend's eyes.

"By my heel, I care not," he said simply.

This did not comfort Benvolio, even if it was meant to.

Indeed Tybalt and a few of his followers - Allegra's brothers, or former brothers, included - were parading through the plaza as they had always done, as though they were the Princes of Verona. They were coming at Mercutio and Benvolio as though they were rocks being thrown, though, other than Tybalt, the Capulets were acting normally, even laughing. As Allegra was not around, Mercutio was not afraid. After all, Tybalt could do nothing to her anyway. Things were normal again. Still, Benvolio did not want a quarrel now, not even if Tybalt's latest target, Benvolio knew, was not them. Benvolio still had to tell Mercutio.

"Follow me close, for I will speak to them," said Tybalt to his friends when he thought Benvolio and Mercutio were not listening. He then stood in front of the fountain and said, "Gentlemen, good e'en. A word with one of you."

"And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something. Make it a word and a blow." Mercutio said all of this with an innocent smile. The Capulets all 'ooed' in interest. Benvolio saw Tybalt's blood heating up through his skin.

"You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion," Tybalt snarled.

"Could you not take some occasion without giving?" Mercutio asked, fanning himself with his handkerchief, almost as though he did not notice Tybalt.

"Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo."

At this, Mercutio looked at him. "Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords."

Benvolio noticed just now that Mercutio was armed. Mercutio glazed his scabbard with the tips of his fingers.

"Here's my fiddlestick. Here's that shall make you dance." Mercutio shook his head. "Zounds! 'Consort'.'"

"We talk here in the public haunt of men," said Benvolio under his breath. "Either withdraw unto some private place, and reason coldly of your grievances, or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us!"

Mercutio had heard him. "Men's eyes were made to look and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I."

There was a stir among the Capulets. Shouting and pointing, they, as well as Mercutio and Benvolio, had spotted Romeo pushing his way through the crowd.

"Well, peace be with you, sir." Tybalt took some water from the fountain and wetted down his hair with an arrogant sneer. "Here comes my man."

"But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower. Your worship in that sense may call him '"man.'"

Tybalt did not hear another word from Mercutio. He had approached Romeo. Benvolio felt a wild rush flow through him up to mouth, and he opened his mouth. This had to be the only time.

"Mer -"

However, Mercutio was not listening. He hushed Benvolio and watched Romeo and Tybalt, greatly entertained. Benvolio sighed.

"Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford no better term than this - thou art a villain."

The crowd of Capulets 'ooed' a bit. Mercutio stood up. Benvolio pulled him down. He had a bad feeling of what was bound to come.

Romeo, however, looked as though he was floating on a cloud, even after being challenged. Instead of accepting or even looking taken aback, he gave Tybalt a gentle pat on the shoulder and spoke in a warm and caring voice. "Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore, farewell. I see thou know'st me not."

The Capulets all stared at Romeo, whispering amongst each other. Mercutio stared along, smiling. Tybalt gave his Montague-infected shoulder a little sneer, then shuddered as he wiped it. Some of the other Capulets noticed this and chortled.

Romeo sat down near Mercutio and opened his mouth to speak. Tybalt cut him off.

"Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw."

Romeo looked confused. Mercutio patted him on the back, telling him to go on.

Instead, Romeo stepped toward Tybalt and simply grinned. "I do protest I never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love."

Romeo spoke in such a voice that a man would use on his love. It was too kind to be real. "And so, good Capulet—which name I tender as dearly as my own—be satisfied," Romeo went on.

Tybalt stared. Then, all of a sudden, he growled like the beast he had proven himself to be, and shoved Romeo. Romeo fell into the fountain A few other Montagues had formed a crowd around the fountain and struggled to pull Romeo out. Benvolio recognized the anger on Mercutio's face all too well, and did not wait a second before holding him back.

"O calm dishonorable, vile submission!" Mercutio hissed, eyeing Tybalt as fiercely as ever.

"Mercutio, no!" Benvolio said as calmly as possible.

"Alla stoccata carries it away." Mercutio pulled away from Benvolio and drew, standing on the fountain.

"Tybalt! You rat catcher! Will you walk?"

Tybalt, who had been speaking to the other Capulets, turned, with raised eyebrows. "What wouldst thou have with me?" he asked.

Mercutio jumped off of the fountain and approached him. "Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out." He tapped his foot, waiting.

The Capulets all glared at Mercutio and the Montagues; Tybalt did not know what to do. Benvolio knew the Prince must have lectured him very seriously. Tybalt, though, was not one to deny a fight because of the threat of some other man, Prince or not.

"I am for you." Tybalt decided to draw.

Romeo, soaking wet, staggered up to Mercutio. "Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up!"

Mercutio did not seem to hear him. He moved his finger in a 'come here' sort of motion and smiled in a way that was almost seductive. "Come, sir, your passado."

The wild cheers from either side broke out. Thus, the two gentlemen who were perhaps the most talented fighters in Verona, fought yet again, this time each with more power than ever. After all the two of them had been through, what with Allegra and now Romeo, Benvolio understood. He did not cheer at Mercutio's normal cockiness as Mercutio teased and taunted, and the rest of the Montagues went mad with cheers. He was too nervous to look to closely.

"Draw, Benvolio," Romeo said, and Benvolio winced. "Beat down their weapons."

Benvolio was not armed. Romeo groaned and dashed out into the middle of the plaza.

"Gentlemen, for shame!" he called. "Forbear this outrage!"

Tybalt and Mercutio did not hear.

"Tybalt, Mercutio!" Romeo called again as their fight took them nearer. "The Prince expressly hath forbidden bandying in Verona streets!"

Tybalt charged at Mercutio, who slid gracefully back, behind Romeo. "Hold, Tybalt!" Romeo tried again, only to make Tybalt try harder. "Good Mercutio!" Romeo blocked Mercutio off.

Suddenly, the cheers from either side faded. Mercutio had stopped the fight, but he looked about himself, as if wondering what had happened. He dropped his sword, and, because of a pain that seemed to come out of nowhere, winced. He clutched his lower belly. When he removed them, his hands were bloody.

"Away, Tybalt," said some Capulet urgently, and Tybalt and the others fled the plaza, glancing back with an expression of horror. The Montagues crowded around their hero, and Benvolio, whose heart he thought might break in two, joined them.

Mercutio looked down at the fresh wound in his gut. "Huh!" he said, surprised. "I am hurt." He wrinkled his nose. "Euw."

A few of the Montagues laughed a bit at this. Mercutio winced again, and fell into the arms of Romeo. He looked up into the face of his best friend, and said through clenched teeth,

"A plague o' both your houses."

Romeo was confused. He let go of Mercutio and Mercutio stood, but just barely held himself up. "I am sped. Is he gone and hath nothing?" he wondered out loud.

"What, art thou hurt?" Benvolio asked, approaching him and attempting to support him.

Mercutio waved him away playfully. "Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch." He strayed away from the Montagues, and leaned against the wall of a shop. "Marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page?—Go, villain, fetch a surgeon -"

Romeo was grinning, though it did not look sincere. He leaned against the wall next to his friend.

"Courage, man," he said. "The hurt cannot be much."

"Naw," Mercutio said, patting his stomach inches from the wound. "'Tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church-door -" He had attempted to stand and walk, but instead, fell onto the ground. The Montagues all gasped. Mercutio, again, denied Benvolio's help. " -but 'tis enough, 'twill serve." Mercutio smiled. "Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a ... grave man."

The Montagues all laughed, relieved.

"I am peppered, I warrant, for this world." The pain, Benvolio could tell, was coming back. Mercutio, still with his hand on his stomach, stood, and suddenly glared at Romeo. "A plague o' both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic!" He had paced while saying this, and glared back at Romeo again. "Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm!"

"I - I thought all for the best -"

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint," Mercutio said, but jerked away when Benvolio tried to help him. "A plague o' both your houses!" he yelled again. He swallowed as the pain flared. "They have made worms' meat of me. I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!"

Romeo glanced at Benvolio. Benvolio dragged Mercutio away and out of their sight, and left Romeo to stare at the ground, looking like he was going to be sick.

* This is a reference to the 1968 movie version. I had to add it in somewhere, as I laughed at it like crazy.