Mercutio

"Hear the sentence of your moved Prince! If you ever disturb our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace! On pain of death, all men depart!"

To hear these words, spoken in rage by cousin Escalus, stilled Mercutio's heart. The ongoing strife between Houses Capulet and Montague once more escalated that morrow, for nought but ill-spoken words taken in offence. He had arrived too late to stop rapiers from being drawn. And words alone did not suffice to cease these eternal rivals.

"Good cousin, a moment, if I may?"

Escalus did not halt in his departure. He beckoned Mercutio to walk along, and the Prince's entourage fell back, allowing privacy. "Speak, Mercutio."

"I thank thee, my liege. With respect, I feel the sentence is too... strident. Why speak of Hades when surely another punishment would equally fit these ill-tempered foes?"

"Many a penalty has been put before them already. Capulet and Montague persist in this foolish feud, yet neither recalls why it started. For the safety of all Verona, I must act. And so must you."

Mercutio halted, prompting the Prince to do the same. "I?" He raised a brow. "I do not understand."

Escalus sighed. He turned to Mercutio. There lay a sadness in his stern gaze Mercutio had never seen in his princely cousin before. It unnerved him.

"Thou knowest my sweet Lucrezia cannot hold a child in her womb," said Escalus. "Fortune's scales are tipped against us. But fair Verona must have an heir, else plummet to ruins. You, Mercutio, shall be my heir."

Mercutio recoiled at the words. "Nay, I cannot!"

"Hush, cousin. You mustn't fear; I shall guide thee."

"Nay, I say! Escalus, do not force this duty and burden upon me, I beg of you! I cannot hold the peace between these two households! You know I stand with Montague!"

"Yet in the darkest hour of night, you lie with Capulet."

Mercutio's eyes widened. How did Escalus know of his escapades? He was ever so careful. Was Verona's Prince aware of his lover's identity too? Had his spies told him who it was that made him foreswear all others?

"Hand in hand, you walk with both Houses," said Escalus. "Embrace the task I put before ye, good Mercutio. Unite them. Else watch Death's icy embrace take lover and friend."

"But I..."

"That is my final say."

Escalus and the courtiers walked on, leaving Mercutio bereft, with a turmoil'd mind and heart. How was he to go forth? How was he to be a bridge between Capulet and Montague if he fought one and jeered with the other for appearance's sake? How... Dear God in Heaven, how was he to speak of this to him?

"Mercutio! I say, Mercutio!"

He turned upon hearing his name. Benvolio of House Montague approached, cheeks flushed from running.

"I have found ye at least," he said, panting heavily. "I seek... O my dear friend, what is this I see? Has something befallen that you appear as if you have stared into the very depths of Hades?"

"'Tis nothing." Mercutio managed a weak smile. "A mere dispute with my royal cousin. It matters not. Tell me, Benvolio, what is it you seek?"

"Not what, but who. Hast thou seen Romeo, by chance?"

"I saw him in the early morrow, but not since. He walked among the greens, doleful as ever. I fear love, or rather the absence of it, has once more struck him cruelly."

"O Cupid is callous indeed for plucking at my cousin's heartstrings. I shall find him forthwith. Best prepare for some entertainment when we return."

"Of course. Who else but me to guide a lost soul through Verona's hidden worlds of pleasure and debauchery?"

"You stand a staunch friend, Mercutio. I thank thee."

Benvolio walked away, and Mercutio was once again alone with his thoughts. Romeo's plight proved a welcome distraction, yet he could not forget the new turn in his life. And not only his. Before all else, he had to speak with his paramour.

O how his heart filled with dread.

💞

Tybalt

The preparations for tonight's event moved along nicely. 'Twould surely be another grand celebration. Yet the cheer that reigned within Capulet Mansion did nothing to lighten Tybalt's foul mood.

"It is a mistake, uncle! Reconsider, for mercy's sake! For Juliet's sake!"

"Hold thy tongue! I yet rule this House, Tybalt, not you!"

"She is too young; you must see that!"

Lord Capulet's eyes narrowed. He pinched his lips a moment before he spoke. "Do you believe me blind, nephew? Naïve, perhaps? Well aware am I that fourteen is yet too tender an age to wed. Yet the engagement stands. Paris has agreed to wait for two more years."

Tybalt scoffed. "And who, pray tell, is to say his worth in two years? He is ill-matched for Juliet's gentle heart, and I do not condone — nay, I do not allow her to be given to such knave and cur!"

His uncle's hand struck his cheek suddenly, and Tybalt staggered.

"The betrothal is made," said Lord Capulet. "You have no say. Learn thy place, nephew, or see yourself removed from this House forever."

The man stalked away. Tybalt's flesh stung, as did his pride. His body trembled. He longed for nothing more than to spirit his darling cousin away to save her from certain ruin. Yet, he could not leave Verona. Not without his love.

"My Lord, a message has arrived for you."

Tybalt turned to the servant and took the note. His heart jumped upon recognising his lover's neat handwriting. What possessed him to write directly to Capulet Mansion?
Unease fell over Tybalt as he read the terse message. He ordered the servant to send one more invitation to the ball. 'Twas dangerous, to be sure, but if they used the gifted enchanted masks Queen Titania bestowed on them, none would know their true face.

None would know Mercutio walked with Tybalt.