Fortune's Fool - annotated edition

SCENE I. A street.°	I'd written a couple of scenes' worth of this stuff before I realized the thing to do was to work toward five scenes, because Shakespeare's plays generally have five acts. (I like my fanfic to be as close to canon as possible, and in this case that meant aping the form to a certain extent.) With this decision made, it seemed logical to set the scenes the way they're normally set in modern texts of the plays.
Enter VALENTINE° and MERCUTIO.	Mercutio's brother Valentine is not entirely my own invention. The pair of them are on the list of guests invited to Capulet's ball that Romeo reads for the servant in I:ii. As luck would have it, there is already a Shakespearean character named Valentine; he's one of the Two Gentlemen of Verona. What with R&J taking place in Verona, the coincidence was too good to pass up -- so although (I admit) I've never read Two Gents, I borrowed one of its protagonists and made him Mercutio's illegitimate half-brother.
VALENTINE Nay, art thou not an addle-minded fool? Thou talk'st of nothing in your letters but This single friend, and nothing else beside. Romeo did that, and then Romeo did this,
And Romeo did some other damnèd thing.° And yet thou askest me now to believe That he knows not of thy regard for him? Thou'rt never such an actor.	There's a line in 1776 in which John Adams gripes about how history is sure to forget him and remember only Benjamin Franklin: 'Franklin did this, and Franklin did that, and Franklin did some other damn thing. Franklin smote the ground with his cane, and out came George Washington, fully dressed and on a horse, and then the three of them -- Washington, Franklin, and the horse -- conducted the entire revolution by themselves.' Borrowed the beginning of it for Valentine's gripe about Mercutio. Borrowing things is true bardic style!

MERCUTIO

I doubt not
That he doth know he's dearer far to me
Than any man except yourself. And yet
I swear that never greater fool drew breath
Than he, when anything's to do with love,
And he has never had the first idea
That he's more dear to me than any woman.

VALENTINE

You brood upon your step like any man
In love with any woman; and your face,
And this half-jug of wine, or less, suggest
That, though a lover, you are yet unloved.
Which is the truth. No one could look at you
And not know in an instant, ere you spoke,
That here is one whose heart has flown his breast,
And found no place on which it could alight.

MERCUTIO Oh, but it has alighted, there's the rub -- It's not like to return, and hence my gloom. You've made your point in one case, which is that I'm almost out of wine. I've more inside. But you mistake my friends' ability To see what is before their very eyes, When what is there to see will not be seen. As love is blind, why should my love not be? I hide my passion in a cloak of jest, And sometime scorn, though less at him than at The women he does fall in love withal, Not one of whom is worthy, as I think, Though I admit my judgment not quite fair -- Yet as I say, none knows of this but me, And you as well, now; keep it to yourself -- But each of whom he loves, with all his heart, One at a time, until he sees the next. He'll fall in love as quick as set his eye Upon a pretty maid, and then despair
If she liketh him not, or notice not That he swoons after her. And all the while He tells us of his love, and of his woe -- For Rosaline°, just now, since a week past --	Let's not forget that Romeo is a boy of about sixteen -- I can't lay my hands on a cite for that (though we know Juliet is not quite fourteen from the text), but I'm sure I read it somewhere. This, combined with his self-professed devotion to Rosaline followed by his complete dismissal of Rosaline in favor of Juliet, leads me to characterize him as the sort of kid for whom every girl is The One. He's as flighty as Mercutio is steady.
But never does he know his ev'ry word Is like a dagger struck into my heart.°	In Les Misérables, Eponine sings, 'Every word that he says is a dagger in me', with reference to Marius' professions of love for Cosette. I'm telling you, imitate Shakespeare: allude to contemporary literature and drama!

VALENTINE

You thrive, then, on the pain, or so it seems,
If still despite this dagger in your heart
You yet consort with Romeo ev'ry day.
Why dost not tell him, or seek diff'rent friends?

MERCUTIO

I'd tell him, if I thought he'd love me, too,
Or, if he did, then if his fickle heart
Would favor me for longer than a day.
He is not constant with his love, but to
His friends he's loyal as the day is long.
So friend I'll be. It is almost enough.

Enter Capulet's servant.

How now, sirrah? There's none who'll answer thee.

SERVANT

I pray you pardon me, good sir. Is't not Signior Mercutio who lives here?

MERCUTIO

It is, but none will answer if you knock. What's your business with Signior Mercutio?

SERVANT

Will you see him before tonight?

MERCUTIO

Marry, will I, if I look in a glass.° What message do you bring?	That line would have been funnier if I'd given it to Valentine. 'Marry, will he, if he looks in a glass.' The pun on 'glass' comes through better that way, and Valentine's more apt to mock Mercutio at this point than Mercutio is to mock himself. Ah well. Bygones.
SERVANT I humbly beg you pardon me. It is an invitation from my master, to his house for supper. Pray you read. MERCUTIO Reads
'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 brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.'°	Of course this is the first bit of Real Shakespeare to appear in this fic, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead-style. Apart from this is not a glimpse at a scene from the real R&J, quite -- in the play, the servant happens upon Romeo and Benvolio in I:ii, as I mentioned above, and gets Romeo to read the list to him. The scene we're in now takes place in some nebulous time before I:iv, so we can safely assume the servant has already met Romeo and Benvolio and heard the list of names, but already knew where Mercutio lived because he's something of a public figure, being the prince's cousin and all. Or something. :-) I once saw a production of R&J -- one of the times I saw it at the Stratford Festival, I think -- where Romeo and Benvolio laughed out loud and scoffed when he got to 'beauteous sisters'. So I snagged that for Valentine and Mercutio's reactions below. [doffs hat to Stratford Festival]
It's two of us you've found, sirrah, for here is Signior Valentine as well. Now if you'll tell us who's your master, we'll bid you tell him we'll see him gladly tonight. SERVANT My master is great Capulet, and I will tell him Signiors Mercutio and Valentine will attend. Rest you merry! Exit.
VALENTINE The sisters of the County Anselme, fair? MERCUTIO He flatters for what purpose we know not. VALENTINE Such blatant lies ought not to be allowed. I nearly choked when you did read it out. MERCUTIO Then likely you missed hearing me go on To say Signior Placentio, and -- aha, Thou know'st his nieces will attend on him,
The one of which is Silvia°, whom you love. So go with me tonight, to Capulet's.	*There's the Two Gentlemen of Verona* shout-out! [g]**

VALENTINE

I shall, and would have even had you not
Dangled the beauteous Silvia before me.
Did I not also hear --

Enter ROMEO and BENVOLIO.

ROMEO

Mercutio!

MERCUTIO

You did.

ROMEO

Benvolio's made me promise to
Disguise me and attend a masquerade
At Capulet's, tonight, where he does swear
He'll show me beauties such that I will think
My Rosaline the plainest maid of all.
What say you?

MERCUTIO

Why, what should I say to that?
There will be fairer there than Rosaline,
Of that there is no doubt.

VALENTINE

Well spoken.

MERCUTIO

Hush.

BENVOLIO

But will you come along with us tonight?
And Valentine, well met -- I did not know
That you had come back to Verona. When
Did you return?

VALENTINE

The evening before last.

Well met indeed, Signior Benvolio.°

I had to cheat with the Italian-y names -- Benvolio, Mercutio, Romeo, Juliet -- in order to get the meter to work. Sometimes 'Benvolio' is three syllables, and sometimes it's four. Only way to survive.

MERCUTIO

We will to this old Capulet affair
As well. My brother and I both will go.
You two shall hide your faces, as you said,
And join our party.

ROMEO

My good friend, much thanks.
We'll meet thee back here to go there tonight.
Good Valentine, I welcome you back home.

Exeunt ROMEO and BENVOLIO.

MERCUTIO

I know what you will say; I prithee don't.

VALENTINE

If he but knew, he might not --

MERCUTIO

Valentine.

VALENTINE

He may not love you, that is so, but he
Might choose his words with more care than he does
So not to cause you grief, if he but knew
That you love him.

MERCUTIO

I'm glad for what I have,
Which is, though not what I might wish for most,
Far better than the nothing it could be.
Come, let's go in.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. In front of Capulet's house.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, and VALENTINE, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others.

ROMEO

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk'st of nothing.

MERCUTIO

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 wooes
E'en now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO

This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves;
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

ROMEO

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 despisèd 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.

BENVOLIO

Strike, drum.°

So I needed to have some overlap with the Real Play, but the trouble with the Real Play is that, you know, Shakespeare wrote it, and I can do iambic pentameter until the cows come home, but I just don't make sentences the way he does. Did. You know. The best a person can hope to do is pick the least impressive-and-well-known bits of the original, write the pastiche the best she can, and hope the seams don't show.

Except, you know, then we go and point out where the seams are, as if people couldn't tell. Heh.

Exeunt ROMEO and BENVOLIO.

VALENTINE

Stay back a moment, brother, and
We can pretend to be engagèd in
Discussion of some import, until you
Wish to go in. I can wait to see her.

MERCUTIO

There is no need for pretense. You have seen
How I can bear myself so stoic'ly
That even good Benvolio, even he,
Does not suspect there's anything amiss.

VALENTINE

Benvolio is an idiot.

MERCUTIO

          Perhaps,
          But not so blind in matters such as these
          As Romeo, who is every bit as blind
          And foolish as the bowman who does shoot
          So cruel and truly with the arrows that

His mother has prepar'd.°

i.e. Cupid. (I know you know that. But -a- there's a chance someone might not, I suppose; and -b- this commentary is now a sort of fanfic of the annotated editions of Shakespeare we all had in school, so including a note like that seemed like the thing to do.)

VALENTINE

I will not ask
Why you do hold in such esteem a man
Whom you yourself describe as such a fool,
Since well I know that love is not a choice.

MERCUTIO

Except in love, he is no fool at all;
If ever I say else, remind me that
No green-eyed monster rules me.

VALENTINE

That I will.
Shall we go in and join them?

MERCUTIO

Yes; lead on.

Exeunt.

SCENE III. Near a lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

Enter BENVOLIO, MERCUTIO, and VALENTINE.

BENVOLIO

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

MERCUTIO

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we go?

BENVOLIO

Go, then; for 'tis in vain
To seek him here that means not to be found.

MERCUTIO

In vain indeed! Incredible insight!° I'll tell you both, and you may be amazed To hear it, but 'tis true: -- What was I saying?	This scene was a good deal of fun to write. I know the seam shows, just like it did in the last one -- but Mercutio's so bitter in the Real Play that it worked well to make him drunk and bitter here, so I don't think it's too bad. This line where he forgets what he's saying mid-sentence, I probably stole from The West Wing, the episode where the president takes Vicodin and Percoset at the same time and has a great stoned scene with the senior staff.
VALENTINE Come on, my brother, let's get you back home. Then you can tell us your amazing tale, Whatever it may be, tomorrow, when You're able to talk sense. BENVOLIO Your brother's wise; My friend Mercutio, you should be in bed, And let these visions come to you in dreams. MERCUTIO Speak not to me of dreams, which are begot Of nothing -- VALENTINE
-- But vain fantasy, we know.° Give me your arm.	I don't remember when it occurred to me to have Mercutio start ranting with things he'd said before, but I love these two lines very much. I especially love that the bits from the earlier speech ('dreams ... [are] begot of nothing but vain fantasy') are in different feet than they were before, but they still scan. And I love Valentine interrupting.

MERCUTIO

I've had too much to drink.

VALENTINE

That's true. God gi' good den, Benvolio.

BENVOLIO

And you, and him as well. My friends, good night.

Exit.

MERCUTIO

Benvolio! Ah, he's gone. But, Valentine,
You marked how Romeo took no note of me
Nor none of you, nor good Benvolio --
He never sees but one thing at a time,
And woman's what I mean when I say thing.

VALENTINE

I did. Indeed, I never doubted you.

MERCUTIO°	Ah, the sonnet. When I decided to do the thing in five scenes because the plays were generally in five acts, I knew I had to make myself a checklist of elements to include in my mini-play as well: both verse and prose (so Capulet's servant, as we saw, didn't speak in iambic pentameter, and neither will Mercutio and the gang, in the next scene, because who can speak in verse with a hangover?); a sonnet; a soliloquy; a heroic couplet. Got them all! And this is the sonnet, and I'm very pleased with it. Of course it had to be a Shakespearean sonnet and not an Italian one. Actually that makes it easier, in my opinion, because Italian sonnets have fewer rhymes. There's probably more allusion to other stuff here than in any other fourteen lines of the whole fic. Hee.
Sometimes I wish that we had never met,
I'd never been his friend, nor been so dense°	*I now think this line would have been better He'd never been my friend, nor I so dense. Ah well. I'll change it in the next Folio.*
To love him so -- that I had never let Him rob me of my reason, of my sense. But every time he gives away his heart
He takes another little piece of mine;° Though his stays whole, yet mine is rent apart;	Thank you, Janis Joplin.
I suffer slowly, but exceeding fine.°	Thank you, my friend Ellen Fremedon. :-) Actually, of course, the line 'The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind exceeding fine' is very common; so common, in fact, that the most accurate citation I can find is to a line of Longfellow's (which has 'God' and 'exceeding small'), which is in turn a translation from a line of German verse by Friedrich von Logau: 'Gottes Mühlen mahlen langsam, mahlen aber trefflich klein'. But, in a fannish context, many of us recognize the abbreviated allusion 'slowly, but exceeding fine' from the title of one of Ellen's excellent HP stories. In fact, in the period of anonymity for Yuletide 2004, the presence of this line led at least one reader to suspect that Ellen had written 'Fortune's Fool', and I was quite flattered to have it suspected that my stuff could have been written by herself. Heh. I admit that I was thinking of Ellen when I included it -- but not to throw people off my trail; rather more as an homage.
And still, I cannot rid myself of this,
This gaping wound, invisible to view.°	Romeo has, in the parallel Real Play, just a moment ago said 'He jests at scars that never felt a wound.' Oblivious little thing, isn't he? Mercutio has of course felt a deeper wound than Romeo can possibly know; only Romeo can't see it, so of course he believes it isn't there.
I wake some mornings dreaming of his kiss;
If only I believed that dreams come true.°	Thank you, City of Angels (the musical, not the movie). This is a line from the song 'With Every Breath I Take' -- which is an outstanding torch song, by the way -- and I adore the sentiment, and it's a perfect line of iambic pentameter. How could I not use it?
Time heals all hurts -- or so at least I'm told.
May she mend this one well° before I'm old.	Actors and/or high school students may quibble about the semantic ambiguity of 'well' here. Does it modify 'mend' or 'before'? Discuss.

But I did mask it well, think'st thou not so?

VALENTINE

You could mayhap have fallen at his feet
And sworn your love to him in front of all
Verona, and he would have noticed not.
But, yes, your disposition was opaque
And none could have suspected why it was
That you made so efficient a dispatch
Of so much wine, and scowled the evening through.

MERCUTIO

I'm known for quite a scowler.

VALENTINE

Are you, now.
Here, just a few steps more, and you'll be home
And soon asleep, to dream of happier things.

MERCUTIO

My dreams are often sweet, when dreamed at night;
But sweet turns swiftly sour in morning's light.

Exeunt.

~intermission~

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.

MERCUTIO Singing 'Lady, lady, lady-o.' What business had that crone with Romeo, that she should seek him in the square at dinner-time? BENVOLIO She is the nurse to old Capulet's daughter, where we should have supped last night. MERCUTIO
His daughter? Surely not, for his is a tree that bears but bitter fruit, uncommon small and scarce ripening before they all shrivel and fall, out of season. Methought that cat's-paw Tybalt° was his only heir.	Mercutio calls Tybalt 'king of cats', and I was very pleased to be able to run with that as well. :-)
BENVOLIO His heir maybe, but though Capulet has put six children in the ground, yet his youngest did not wither on the vine. MERCUTIO And this her nursemaid, who desired Romeo's confidence? Wherefore? And, didst thou mark, he knew her and was not taken in surprise that she should find him here. What means this consort with the house of Capulet? BENVOLIO Peace, I know not. MERCUTIO There's no good can come of this. You are his kinsman; if you knew the woman was a Capulet, or one of Capulet's household, you should not have left him so carelessly. BENVOLIO A nursemaid cannot harm him. MERCUTIO
A cat cannot harm a man, neither, until he coddle it so it can reach to scratch out his eyes.	Again with the cats -- see below.
BENVOLIO You're out of humour to-day. Has something befallen you that would account for your discrepancy in mood since yesternight? If so, I am all sympathy. MERCUTIO 'Tis nothing. My head aches. Enter ROMEO. Yet in one piece, Signior, and not torn all to bits? I see then that my fear was ill-founded. ROMEO What, didst think me in danger? MERCUTIO Benvolio says Mistress Frigate there is the nurse of the daughter of Capulet. ROMEO Ay, and what of that? MERCUTIO Hast thou forgot the mortal loathing nursed by your father for hers, and hers for yours? To what purpose do you meet her nurse and talk in secret for so long a time? ROMEO You've often said the feud betwixt my house and the house of Capulet is stupid stuff, if I remember true. MERCUTIO And so it is, and were it my house, I'd not sustain it. BENVOLIO Yet you do hate Capulet's kinsman Tybalt almost beyond the telling of it. MERCUTIO
Be well assured, my friends, that my patience for Tybalt would be less than nil even were he kinsman to any man other than Capulet -- were he, God forbid, kinsman to yourselves, I'd hate him all the same. That's everything to do with him, and nothing with blood.° But this is not the matter: despite I consider the quarrel petty and overlong, yet it persists, for why should your houses mend relations on my account? So there is danger still, I say, for Romeo to converse in full view of whoso cared to pass by, with a woman who maintains such influence in his enemy's house.	I didn't intend it, but after I'd written that, I started thinking, Huh, now why does Mercutio hate Tybalt so very much -- especially if it's nothing to do with the fact that he's friends with the Montague side? Do Mercutio and Tybalt have a Past? I do myself no favors when I start to think that way.
BENVOLIO Such influence, say you? A nurse? MERCUTIO An her charge is the only child of Capulet's to survive? Yes, such influence, say I, for the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. What answer make you, Romeo? ROMEO None. MERCUTIO What, nothing? ROMEO It is as you have said; our ancient grudge is stubborn foolishness, and so it ought long ago to have been called. Wherefore if my father on behalf of Montague will not make peace with her father on behalf of Capulet, at least may I make peace with Juliet for myself. MERCUTIO You're mad, you know. ROMEO Mad, but methodical. With us, the combat ends. BENVOLIO There's no argument 'gainst that. MERCUTIO Aside to Benvolio But some thing he does keep from us. This is not the whole tale. ROMEO The half-hour strikes; dinner calls, almost that I can hear it. Where's Valentine to-day, Mercutio? MERCUTIO Dining with his mother. ROMEO He must come to my father's for supper to-night. You'll tell him, if you see him? MERCUTIO Ay. ROMEO Come in to dine.

Exeunt.

Scene V. A lane outside Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter MERCUTIO, and FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO, apart.

MERCUTIO

          This is the place. Why with such haste did he
          Come here from dinner at his father's house?
          I never knew him such a man of faith,
          To hurry from his friends to meet a priest.
          And what, I wonder, has he to confess?
          He does like thistledown from one love float
          Unto another, borne by nothing more
          Than one light breeze; but always he remains
          Unlucky, loving only from afar.
          There is no sin in that; it is not lust,
          But what he thinks is love, and is more like
          A new-struck admiration and respect.
          If only one of us could tell our sins
          Before we died, not both, I would of course

Insist that it be he;° yet I am sure	Because, of course, if one of them has to die unshriven, that one won't go to heaven (or at least not immediately), right? And he prefers to spare Romeo that fate.
That mine's the soul that bears the greater stain.
Still, this church wall's not sturdier° than my love;	It's not foreshadowing, exactly, but ack, this is where my heart starts bleeding for Mercutio. Later, of course, when he's wounded, he describes his wound as '[not] so wide as a church door', which in my world now has a lot to do with his love for Romeo as well as the big hole in his gut from Tybalt's sword.
If it is sin to love so steadily, So deeply and so well, why then I had
Far rather be a sinner than a saint.°	I'm very pleased with this line -- recall that when they first meet, Juliet calls Romeo a pilgrim, so he turns around and calls her a saint. Mercutio doesn't know that, of course, but oh, I love me some double meanings.
What's this -- who joins him now? I'll hide me here.

Enter JULIET.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

JULIET

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

MERCUTIO

Who's this -- it is not Rosaline, that's sure,
For Rosaline is tall, and plain of face.

ROMEO

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold th'imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

MERCUTIO

What, Juliet? 'Tis the child of Capulet,
Whose nurse he spoke to in the square to-day.
What can it mean -- they meet by stealth, or else
Risk earning each the other's kinsmen's ire;
But wherefore meet at all, I ask myself;
Wherefore enlist a priest to meet them too,
And ev'ry thing I think can be the cause
Does cause me worry. Fie -- I like this not.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorp'rate two in one.

Exeunt FRIAR LAURENCE, ROMEO, and JULIET.

MERCUTIO°

It cannot be. It cannot be that they
Have gone to have this grey friar marry them.
This cannot be! And yet, it seems it must,
For what else could he mean, "Till holy church
Incorp'rate two in one" -- that's plain as day.
O, God! I always knew him for a fool,
But never thought him such a fool as this;
It's not been one full day since he saw her,
And just that quick is Rosaline forsworn,
And Juliet loved -- nay, more than that -- adored,
And now the priest doth make him husband to her.
To make some peace, he says, betwixt the house
Of Montague and that of Capulet.
Make peace, forsooth. It's not peace that he looks
To make with her, despite his noble words.
I hope she's as unchangeable as he,
With her affections; mayhap they deserve
Each other. O, I would I loved him not!
Alack the day I ever saw his face;
Alack the day I ever saw him smile,
Or lost my heart, fool organ, like a leg
Caught in a hunter's trap. The time is come
When, if I were a wounded beast, I would
With strength I'd never known that I possess'd
Pull back and tear asunder my own arm,
Lest that the fest'ring wound result in death.
I would that I could rip my love for him
Free from my heart, or else my heart itself
Out from my breast, where it does poison me
At every beat with its infectious rot.
I'd feed it to the dogs! O, if I could --
I am no lass in love who's overcome
With vapors -- do I lack will of my own?
If I cannot instruct myself to cease
My love for Romeo, who is proven here,
Though fair of face and limb, a callous, vain,
Oblivious, idle, quick-distracted fool,
Why then can I not pluck out my whole heart
And lacking it love none? -- I've not the strength.
Wretched Mercutio -- ha, the more fool I!
If ever there was any chance that I
Would heed my brother Valentine's advice,
There is none now.

What can I say about this soliloquy, really. I think I may still have some earlier drafts of it around here somewhere, and they're nowhere near as angry -- and Ellen kept on telling me, he's got to be angrier than that. No, angrier than that. No, angrier still. And the trouble was, I think -- look, it's not that I see myself in Mercutio, or anything, but who amongst us hasn't been in love with someone who didn't love us back? And sometimes we get angry about it when they turn around and love someone (or several someones in endless succession, like Romeo) we don't think deserves them. But other times not so much, and I think I didn't, and Ellen's advice, as I remember it, was 'Well, then, stop identifying with Mercutio, would you?' And I took a step back and tried to make him irrational and furious, and I think I got most of the way there. Poor guy.

Enter BENVOLIO

It's late. Where have you been?

BENVOLIO

I had some business of my own at home,
And then did search for you some little while.

MERCUTIO

For me? Thou wouldst have found me well enough
If thou hadst come round here an hour ago.

BENVOLIO

And if we always knew where we might find
That which we sought, would life then benefit
Or suffer? For is searching not as much
A part of life as finding is, or more?
Since we may search and search, but never find,
Yet never find a thing without a search.

MERCUTIO

Life! Prithee, do not speak to me of life° --
Thou knowest nothing, speakest nonsense, art
No use to me or any other man.
If I can not be rid of thee, at least
Come help me seek my brother.

Total Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy shout-out. I'm very, very sorry about that. But it really seemed to fit.

BENVOLIO

Where is he?

MERCUTIO

Would I say "seek", or need help, if I knew?

BENVOLIO

A jest, a joke, in faith, since we did talk
Just now of searching and of finding things.

MERCUTIO

A joke, indeed. Were you a fool at court,
You'd make the ladies cry, instead of laugh,
And find your head ere long upon the block.

BENVOLIO

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:°
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, in these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

And, of course, these are the first lines of III:i, which is Mercutio's last scene.

I wanted to do the fight scene, and have a bit where we followed them off after he cursed both houses; Benvolio was going to offer to go fetch Valentine, and Mercutio was going to ask for a priest, but then I couldn't work out how to end it, and it wasn't long before it became clear that ending it just as he was going off to die was the way to go.

Exeunt.

Comments always welcome!