Shakespeare for Slackers

~

Romeo & Juliet

SHAKESPEARE FOR SLACKERS: ROMEO & JULIET by Aaron Kite is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US License

Based on a work which may or may not appear at www.kiteanic.com. I haven't decided yet.

Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.kiteanic.comIf you can't find anything, you'll at least be able to drop me an email or something.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means is, like, such a dick move. You wouldn't believe the amount of effort I put into formatting it, finding

just the right fonts, lining them up properly, and putting that black stripy thing down the middle.And plus, if you scanned it, the whole thing probably wouldn't make sense because of how it's

formatted, even if your scanning software didn't have a nervous breakdown first.

This book is a derivative work based on Shakespeare. Any character'sresemblance to any individual person, living or dead, would really only happen if

your parents had a thing for Shakespeare and decided to name you somethingunfortunate, like “Tybalt”. Really, that's not my fault, is it?

Act 1

[ Enter Chorus]

Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

[Exit]

Scene 1. Verona. A public place.

[Enter Sampson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers]

Sampson Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.

GregoryNo, for then we should be colliers.

SampsonI mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.

GregoryAy, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.

SampsonI strike quickly, being moved.

GregoryBut thou art not quickly moved to strike.

SampsonA dog of the house of Montague moves me.

GregoryTo move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

(Announcer clears his throat)

Okay, folks . . . remember the Hatfields and McCoys? Yeah, this was just like that, only in

someplace called Verona.

It went on for years, right up to the point where two kids went and killed themselves.

Oh crap, I just gave away the whole plot!

I should have maybe given some sort of spoiler alert.

(Announcer leaves)

1-1 The Place – Verona

(Sam and Greg show up, with cutlery)

Sam: Greg, I swear, I’m not going to take their crap.

Greg: So, you don't feel like going into the manure business?

Sam: Seriously, if they piss us off, we should draw on them

Greg: With permanent marker, even!

Sam: I’m so serious, Greg.

Greg: Uh-huh.

Sam: What, you don’t think I could take a Montague?

Greg: You hit like a girl.

SampsonA dog of that house shall move me to stand: I willtake the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

GregoryThat shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goesto the wall.

SampsonTrue; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

GregoryThe quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

Sampson'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads.

GregoryThe heads of the maids?

SampsonAy, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;take it in what sense thou wilt.

GregoryThey must take it in sense that feel it.

SampsonMe they shall feel while I am able to stand: and'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Gregory'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thouhadst been poor John.

[Spies Montague's men]

Draw thy tool! here comestwo of the house of the Montagues.

SampsonMy naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

GregoryHow! turn thy back and run?

SampsonFear me not.

Sam: Oh yeah? Tell you what - the next time we turn a corner and there’s some of Montague's staff turning the corner at the same time, I won’t get out of their way!

Greg: Oooo . . . that’ll scare them.

Sam: Fine, I’ll . . . I’ll give them a push, or something. That goes for their women, too.

Greg: Dude. Not cool.

Sam: Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll shove the guys around for a bit first, and then maybe I’ll give their women a little ‘nudge’ as well?

Greg: ‘Nudge’?

Sam: Yeah. You know, ‘nudge’? (lewd arm gesture, suggestive eyebrow raised)

Greg: This just got all kinds of awkward…

Sam: And then one of them would say “Oh my god, a Capulet! Ooo, he's so big.”

Greg: Okay, seriously. . . no more Viagra for you.

(Sees some Montague guys)

. . . holy crap! Pull out your tool! Uh, I mean your blade! Montague’s guys, twelve-o-clock! Okay big-talker, now’s your chance.

Sam: How about you go first, and I go right after you?

Greg: Yeah, I thought so.

Sam: C’mon, start something. I’ll back you up.

GregoryNo, marry; I fear thee!

SampsonLet us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

GregoryI will frown as I pass by, and let them take it asthey list.

SampsonNay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

[Enter Abraham and Balthasar]

AbrahamDo you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SampsonI do bite my thumb, sir.

AbrahamDo you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sampson [Aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side, if I say ay?

GregoryNo.

SampsonNo, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but Ibite my thumb, sir.

GregoryDo you quarrel, sir?

AbrahamQuarrel sir! no, sir.

SampsonIf you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

AbrahamNo better.

SampsonWell, sir.

GregorySay 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Greg: Have I mentioned that you hit like a girl?

Sam: Or. . . no, wait! Better yet, let’s make it so they start something! That way we won’t get charged with anything.

Greg: How about let’s just do what we always do - glare and walk by them, and act really, really surly. That way, they’ll be all like, “Ooo, he’s being surly. . .”

Sam: I’ve got an even better idea. Watch this – I’m going to flip them the bird.

(Abe and a buddy show up, Sam gives them the finger)

Abe: Uh, did you just give me the finger?

Sam: What? Err. . . I was scratching my nose.

Abe: Okay, seriously - did you give me the finger just now?

Sam: (whispered) Should I say ‘yes’?

Greg: (whispered back) Technically, that’s assault.

Sam: Uhm . . . no. No, I’ve got this seriously itchy nose is all, and my doctor says I have to scratch it with my middle finger. . .

Greg: You seem awfully interested in his middle finger . . . you trying to pick a fight?

Abe: Me? Pick a fight? Of course not. That would be wrong. . .

Sam: Well, honestly, I hope you do. I have a good lawyer.

Abe: I have a great lawyer.

Sam: Oh really?

Greg: (whispered to Sam) Dude, I see a buddy of mine. We’ve got backup! Say something rude!

SampsonYes, better, sir.

AbrahamYou lie.

SampsonDraw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

[They fight]

[Enter Benvolio]

BenvolioPart, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do.

[Beats down their swords]

[Enter Tybalt]

TybaltWhat, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

BenvolioI do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,Or manage it to part these men with me.

TybaltWhat, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:Have at thee, coward!

[They fight]

[Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs]

First CitizenClubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

[Enter Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet]

CapuletWhat noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!

Lady CapuletA crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?

CapuletMy sword, I say! Old Montague is come,And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Sam: So, you going to grab a pair and try something, or do I have to start talking about your mother?

Abe: Let’s go, bitches!

Sam: Bring it! Greg, don’t forget that cool Jiu-jitsu move I showed you!

(They fight)

(Ben shows up)

Ben: Hey, stupid people… time-out! You, tall guy! Stop pulling Abe’s hair! Hey, let’s not fight. C’mon, guys, what would Jesus do?

(Breaks up the fight)

(Tybalt walks in, looking twitchy)

Tybalt: Ben! I just knew you’d try to get involved in something like this. Fight me, you bastard!

Ben: Uhm, what part of “Hey, let’s not fight” did you not understand just now?

Tybalt: Oh, is that why you’ve got that blade on you? Doesn’t matter, I just finished four shots of espresso. Get ready for the biggest ass-kicking ever, hippy!

(They fight)

(Guys show up from both sides, a crowd forms)

Rabble: “Yeah! Kick his ass, Ben!” “Get the hoses!” “That tall one hits like a girl!”

(Capulet and wife show up, looking like they were interrupted while in the middle of something)

Capulet: What the hell? Give me my long sword, ho!

Lady Capulet: I only brought your cane with- . . . hang on! Did you just call me a ‘Ho’?!

Capulet: And just how am I supposed to scare Montague with a cane?

[Enter Montague and Lady Montague]

MontagueThou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go.

Lady MontagueThou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.

[Enter Prince, with Attendants]

PrinceRebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,That quench the fire of your pernicious rageWith purple fountains issuing from your veins,On pain of torture, from those bloody handsThrow your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,And hear the sentence of your moved prince.Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,And made Verona's ancient citizensCast by their grave beseeming ornaments,To wield old partisans, in hands as old,Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:If ever you disturb our streets again,Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.For this time, all the rest depart away:You Capulet; shall go along with me:And, Montague, come you this afternoon,To know our further pleasure in this case,To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio]

MontagueWho set this ancient quarrel new abroach?Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

BenvolioHere were the servants of your adversary,And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:I drew to part them: in the instant cameThe fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,He swung about his head and cut the winds,Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,Came more and more and fought on part and part,Till the prince came, who parted either part.

(Montague and his wife show up)

Montague: Capulet! Excuse me a sec, honey… I’m going to go beat him to death with his own cane.

Lady Montague: Oh, don’t you even start. You remember what happened the last time you two went at it…

(Some guy in authority shows up, with muscle)

Prince: Attention, everyone! Take your weapons between your thumb and forefinger and place them gently upon the ground! Put your hands behind your head! So help me, I will turn this car around!

Oh, it’s you guys again. Geeze. You know, I’m getting really tired of doing this.

This happens again, I kick everyone’s asses. Capiche? Capulet? Montague? I want to have a talk with both of you.

Now get the hell out of here, before I release the attack dogs!

(Everyone leaves except Ben and his folks.)

Montague: (scolding) Ben, were you fighting again?

Ben: They started it! I was just minding my own business, walking down the street, and I see these guys fighting! I go to break it up, and then Tybalt shows up, all hopped up on caffeine. Then suddenly we’re all in trouble.

Lady MontagueO, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

BenvolioMadam, an hour before the worshipp'd sunPeer'd forth the golden window of the east,A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;Where, underneath the grove of sycamoreThat westward rooteth from the city's side,So early walking did I see your son:Towards him I made, but he was ware of meAnd stole into the covert of the wood:I, measuring his affections by my own,That most are busied when they're most alone,Pursued my humour not pursuing his,And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.

MontagueMany a morning hath he there been seen,With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;But all so soon as the all-cheering sunShould in the furthest east begin to drawThe shady curtains from Aurora's bed,Away from the light steals home my heavy son,And private in his chamber pens himself,Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight outAnd makes himself an artificial night:Black and portentous must this humour prove,Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

BenvolioMy noble uncle, do you know the cause?

MontagueI neither know it nor can learn of him.

BenvolioHave you importuned him by any means?

MontagueBoth by myself and many other friends:But he, his own affections' counsellor,Is to himself--I will not say how true--But to himself so secret and so close,So far from sounding and discovery,As is the bud bit with an envious worm,Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.We would as willingly give cure as know.

[Enter Romeo]

Lady Montague: Well, thank goodness Romeo wasn’t involved. Where is he, anyways?

Ben: I saw him this morning, by the woods. He seemed pretty bummed.

Montague: He's probably either writing poetry or he's crying again. I think my son’s turning into a nancy-boy. He'll be wearing a dress and putting on makeup soon, I just know it.

Ben: Do you know why he’s so sad?

Montague: Nope.

Ben: Did you ask him?

Montague: Yeah. Twice. . .

(Enter Romeo)

BenvolioSee, where he comes: so please you, step aside;I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.

MontagueI would thou wert so happy by thy stay,To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.

[Exeunt Montague and Lady Montague]

BenvolioGood-morrow, cousin.

RomeoIs the day so young?

BenvolioBut new struck nine.

RomeoAy me! sad hours seem long.Was that my father that went hence so fast?

BenvolioIt was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

RomeoNot having that, which, having, makes them short.

BenvolioIn love?

RomeoOut--

BenvolioOf love?

RomeoOut of her favour, where I am in love.

BenvolioAlas, that love, so gentle in his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Ben: Hey, here he comes now! Maybe I’ll have better luck asking him what’s wrong.

Montague: Yeah, good luck with that. Come on, Honey, let’s go.

(They leave)

Ben: Morning, cuz!

Romeo: (heavy sigh) It’s not still morning, is it?

Ben: Yup. Nine-o-clock.

Romeo: Maybe I’m just so absorbed by the soul-crushing mind-numbing pointlessness of existence that it just seemed like a whole day had passed already. See that? My own father runs away rather than saying 'hi'.

Ben: I’m sure he just has other stuff to do. Romeo, have you stopped taking your meds again?

Romeo: Yeah, my prescription ran out yesterday. They do make the hours pass quicker, but I don’t know if I’ll refill it - you should have seen the list of side-effects on! Acute bowel distress, nausea, yellowing fingernails…

Ben: Heartache?

Romeo: No, that’s a side effect of being invisible.

Ben: Invisible?

Romeo: I’m in love with someone who doesn’t even know I exist.

Ben: Ah, gotcha. Love bites.

RomeoAlas, that love, whose view is muffled still,Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first create!O heavy lightness! serious vanity!Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!This love feel I, that feel no love in this.Dost thou not laugh?

BenvolioNo, coz, I rather weep.

RomeoGood heart, at what?

BenvolioAt thy good heart's oppression.

RomeoWhy, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine: this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.

BenvolioSoft! I will go along;An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

RomeoTut, I have lost myself; I am not here;This is not Romeo, he's some other where.

BenvolioTell me in sadness, who is that you love.

RomeoWhat, shall I groan and tell thee?

Romeo: Yup. Hey, let’s go get something to eat. There’s this new place that has these chicken skewers, and- . . . hey! You’ve been cut! Ben, were you fighting again! You were fighting with the Capulets, weren’t you! God, why do people need to be so violent all the time? You know, it makes me so sad that I’ve written a poem about it.

(clears throat, pulls out notepad)

Oh brawling love, oh loving hate,Oh anything of nothing first createdFeather of lead, bright smoke and cold fire with-

. . . hey, are you laughing at my poem?

Ben: No, no . . . I’ve got something in my eye.

Romeo: Lots of guys write poetry nowadays, and. . . hey, wait a second! Were you crying?

Ben: Uh, yeah. Crying. That's it. I just couldn’t help it. Your poem, it was that good.

Romeo: Well, I’d better not read the rest to you then. It gets really, really sad in some places. See ya later, Ben.

Ben: Hey, you can't tease me with chicken skewers like that! Let's go check out this place.

Romeo: Nah. I’m not feeling like myself today.

Ben: Come on, tell me more about this someone you’re in love with.

Romeo: You really wanna know?

BenvolioGroan! why, no.But sadly tell me who.

RomeoBid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

BenvolioI aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.

RomeoA right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.

BenvolioA right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

RomeoWell, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hitWith Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.She will not stay the siege of loving terms,Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,That when she dies with beauty dies her store.

BenvolioThen she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

RomeoShe hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,For beauty starved with her severityCuts beauty off from all posterity.She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,To merit bliss by making me despair:She hath forsworn to love, and in that vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now.

BenvolioBe ruled by me, forget to think of her.

RomeoO, teach me how I should forget to think.

BenvolioBy giving liberty unto thine eyes;Examine other beauties.

Ben: Yeah.

Romeo: I’m in love with a girl.

Ben: Well, your father will certainly be relieved…

Romeo: Not just any girl, either. She’s beautiful!

Ben: Right . . . with you so far.

Romeo: And, not only beautiful, but smart. At least, she's smart enough that she wants nothing to do with me. She told me she doesn’t date, and swears that she’s sworn off men entirely.

Ben: Oh Lord . . . she’s signed one of those chastity pledges, hasn’t she?

Romeo: Probably, but she still goes around wearing skimpy clothing – it’s enough to drive me crazy. Do you think she's a lesbian?

Ben: Lord, don't even go there. You’ll torture yourself even worse.

Romeo: Too late. Gah! How do I get her out of my head?

Ben: We could visit a strip club…

Romeo'Tis the wayTo call hers exquisite, in question more:These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' browsBeing black put us in mind they hide the fair;He that is strucken blind cannot forgetThe precious treasure of his eyesight lost:Show me a mistress that is passing fair,What doth her beauty serve, but as a noteWhere I may read who pass'd that passing fair?Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.

BenvolioI'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

Exeunt

Act 1 Scene 2 - A street.

[Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant]

Capulet 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. Paris Of honourable reckoning are you both;And pity ’tis you lived at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Capulet 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 fourteen years;Let two more summers wither in their pride,Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Paris Younger than she are happy mothers made.

Capulet And too soon marr’d are those so early made.The earth hath swallow’d 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;An she agree, within her scope of choiceLies my consent and fair according voice.This night I hold an old accustom’d feast,Whereto I have invited many a guest,

Romeo: . . .

I’m tortured with thoughts of a girl in skimpy clothing, so your solution is to take me to a place where I can see girls in skimpy clothing? You’re a strange, strange man. No, I think I’ll just have a cold shower or something.

Ben: C’mon. Just give me a chance. I’ll find some way to cheer you up, if it’s the last thing I do.

(They leave)

1-2 – Some street somewhere

(Capulet, Paris, and some guy named Pete walk in)

Capulet: Well, he can’t start anything, and neither can I, so that’s good. I swear, I’m getting too old for this crap.

Paris: Uh-huh, that’s nice. Say, where’s your daughter? Is she around?

Capulet: I keep telling you, she’s too young for you. There are laws! And stop raising your eyebrows like that, too . . . that’s just creepy.

Paris: You know, it would actually be legal to marry her in some countries. Also, there's that certain gambling debt of yours to consider. . .

Capulet: (aside, sighing) I’m going to the special Hell.

(To Paris) Fine, but no roofies. I’ll talk you up, but it's her call. And if the law asks, I’ll say I didn’t know about any of it, understand?

Capulet (continued)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 nightEarth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:Such comfort as do lusty young men feelWhen well-apparell’d April on the heelOf limping winter treads, even such delightAmong fresh female buds shall you this nightInherit at my house; hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be:Which on more view, of many mine being oneMay stand in number, though in reckoning none,Come, go with me.

[To Peter, giving a paper]

Go, sirrah, trudge aboutThrough fair Verona; find those persons outWhose names are written there, and to them say,My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[Exeunt Capulet and Paris]

Peter Find them out whose names are written here!It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle withhis yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher withhis pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I amsent to find those persons whose names are herewrit, and can never find what names the writingperson hath here writ. I must to the learned.—In good time.

[Enter Benvolio and Romeo]

Benvolio Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning,One pain is lessen’d 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.

Romeo Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.

Benvolio For what, I pray thee?

Romeo For your broken shin.

Capulet (continued): I’m having a bunch of people over for dinner tonight, and you’re (suppresses a shudder) … welcome to come.

And maybe, just maybe, when you see some of the other women there, you’ll find someone else to be all creepy and obsessed about.

Then you might leave my daughter alone, finally. Ugh . . . I feel so dirty. Let's go.

(Holds a note out to Pete)

(To Pete) Hey, you . . . what’s-your-name. Take this list and make sure that everyone on it gets invited to my dinner tonight. Chop chop.

(They leave)

Pete: ‘Chop chop’, he says. What a moron. (Peers at note) Sig . . . Signal. No. Sig . . . noor. Senior? Does Senior have a ‘G’ in it? Damn, I should have never dropped out of grade school. Hmm, what’s the next word, then? M- . . . Mar. Mar-tin. Martine. No, wait, I think that’s an ‘O’. Martino? Martina? Damn! I swear, this handwriting is worse than a doctor’s prescription note!

(Enter Ben and Romeo)

Ben: I still think we should go to the strip club. I really don’t think you gave the idea a fair shake.

(sniggers) ‘Fair shake’. That’s funny.

Romeo: Would you like a band-aid?

Ben: Band-aid? For what?

Romeo: For the mule-kick I’ll give you if you don’t stop talking about that stupid strip club!

Benvolio Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Romeo Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;Shut up in prison, kept without my food,Whipp’d and tormented and—God-den, good fellow.

Peter God gi’ god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

Romeo Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

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

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

Servant Ye say honestly: rest you merry!

Romeo Stay, fellow; I can read.

(Reads note)

“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.”

A fair assembly: whither should they come?

Peter Up.

Romeo Whither?

Peter To supper; to our house.

Romeo Whose house?

Ben: Seriously, we should get you back on your meds.

Romeo: I’m not crazy. What? I said I’m not crazy! Stupid voices . . . I don’t need my meds! (to Peter) Oh, hey there. You know I’m not crazy, right?

Pete: Uhm . . . ooookay then. Look, can either of you read really bad handwriting?

Romeo: I can read the writing on the wall, and it’s pretty bad, let me tell you.

Pete: Not exactly what I meant. How are you at reading something that isn’t on a wall? Like, say, this piece of paper?

Romeo: That should be easy . . . provided it’s in a language I know. Oh, but only if I've learned how to read – very important, that.

Pete: Wiseass. Thanks a bunch.

Romeo: Oh come on, it was a joke. Here, I’ll read it.

(Grabs note)

Dear Lord, this handwriting is terrible!“Seigneur Mar… Martino and his … wife? And daughters. Count Anselme and his beautiful sisters; The widow Vitruvio; Seigneur Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Val; Uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; Rosaline…

(heaves a slow, dramatic sigh)

. . . and Livia; Seigneur Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and Helena.”

Damn, that’s quite the list. What are all these names for?

Pete: Dinner

Romeo: You’re cannibals?

Pete: What? No, no . . . they’re coming to eat dinner tonight.

Romeo: Where?

Peter My master’s.

Romeo Indeed, I should have ask’d you that before.

Peter Now I’ll tell you without asking: my master isthe 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!

[Exit]

Benvolio At this same ancient feast of Capulet’sSups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,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.

Romeo When the devout religion of mine eyeMaintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;And these, who often drown’d could never die,Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sunNe’er saw her match since first the world begun.

Benvolio Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,Herself poised with herself in either eye:But in that crystal scales let there be weigh’dYour lady’s love against some other maidThat I will show you shining at this feast,And she shall scant show well that now shows best.

Romeo I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

[Exeunt]

Pete: Probably at the dinner table.

Romeo: Now who’s being the wiseass?

Pete: Sorry. The dinner’s at the Capulet place, and if you’re not a Montague you should stop by and get politely polluted. These dinners are usually quite the piss-up! See ya!

(Pete leaves)

Ben: Hey, you hear that? We should crash that party. Rosaline’ll be there, but so will a ton of other drunken hotties. Did you hear who’s on that list? Do you know the sort of things I’ve heard about Martino’s daughters? And they're twins! Seriously, we need to go there tonight. Five minutes in a room with the Martino twins and you’ll forget Rosaline completely.

Romeo: Pffft. As if.

Ben: Romeo . . . they’re twins!

Romeo: Wellll . . . okay, but only because Rosaline will be there. Who knows? Maybe tonight’s the night she decides to stop calling me 'Emo-Boy'

(they leave)

Scene 3 - A room in Capulet’s house.

[Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse]

Lady Capulet Nurse, where’s my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady bird!God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!

[Enter Juliet]

Juliet How now! who calls?

Nurse Your mother.

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

Lady Capulet This is the matter:—Nurse, give leave awhile,We must talk in secret:—nurse, come back again;I have remember’d me, thou’s hear our counsel.Thou know’st my daughter’s of a pretty age.

Nurse Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

Lady Capulet She’s not fourteen.

Nurse I’ll lay fourteen of my teeth,—And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but fourShe is not fourteen. How long is it nowTo Lammas-tide?

Lady Capulet A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse Even or odd, of all days in the year,Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.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 fourteen;

1-3 – Some room in Capulet's place

(Lady Capulet and Nurse show up)

Lady Capulet: Nurse… I don’t feel like raising my voice today. Yell for my daughter, will you?

Nurse: What a slowpoke. I swear I’ve already called her five times. Or maybe it was four times. No, it was five times, I'm sure . . . just as sure as I was a virgin at the age of twelve. (awkward silence) Uh, that was probably an over-share, actually. (yelling) JULIET!

(Juliet walks in)

Juliet: God . . . what? Who’s yelling?

Nurse: Your mother wants to talk to you.

Juliet: Geeze, I'm right here! What do you want, Mom?

Lady Capulet: Nurse, leave us. No, wait, I may need you to yell for me again later . . . and maybe your take on the promiscuity of twelve-year-olds will be helpful as well. Here’s the issue – you know how young Juliet is, right?

Nurse: Know it? Why, I even remember the hour she was born!

Lady Capulet: Point is, she’s really young, and-

Nurse: Yes, she’s very young! Why, I’d bet fourteen of my own teeth that she isn't even fourteen years old! Actually, I guess that would have to include ten fake teeth, since I’ve only got four left. Have I shown you my new dentures? I got them when Juliet turned thirteen, so that was… uh, hmm. How long until her birthday again?

Lady Capulet: I thought you said you knew her age to the hour…

Nurse: Oh, I do! Right to the hour . . . it’s just the actual day that messes me up. I have such a hard time remembering that particular day.

Nurse (continued)That shall she, marry; I remember it well.’Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;And she was wean’d,—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 nippleOf 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 eleven 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.”

Lady Capulet Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Nurse 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 browA bump as big as a young cockerel’s stone;A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:“Yea,”quoth my husband, “fall’st upon thy face?Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;Wilt thou not, Jule?” it stinted and said “Ay.”

Juliet And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.

Nurse Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e’er I nursed: An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.

Lady Capulet Marry, that “marry” is the very themeI came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,How stands your disposition to be married?

Nurse (continued): Do you think it’s because Juliet’s birthday falls on the same day as Susan, my daughter’s? My little Susan who died? My therapist keeps mentioning that I’m blocking something.

Do you think there’s a connection? I’ve told you that story, haven’t I? Oh, yes – we had that discussion about eleven years ago, when the earthquake hit, and I was taking care of Juliet, and you explained to me the difference between a ‘field trip’ and ‘kidnapping’. Thank you so much for dropping those charges, by the way.

Yes, you and Lord Capulet were in Mantua, and mischievous little Juliet had just turned three and was playing outside when the earthquake hit. She was already walking around by then – I remember that she still had bruises from falling flat on her face, and those nice people from Social Services kept coming by to ask all those questions.

My late husband was taken away that very day, saying “She got them bruises cuz she doesn’t have the sense to fall on her ass! It wasn’t me, I tells ya! There was a bloody earthquake!” as they hauled him away. Ah, happy memories. Why, that reminds me of the time-

Lady Capulet: Nurse . . . shut up.

Nurse: Oh, I do go on and on sometimes, don’t I? But I can’t help it, Juliet was so adorable, her faced all bruised and looking up at my husband as he was saying “You should practice falling backwards, stupid girl, so you don’t look like you’ve been beaten!” and then Juliet got that mischievous glint in her eyes and talked to some Peace Officers, and then Social Services came and took him away. . .

Juliet: Seriously Nurse, can you put a sock in it?

Nurse: Okay, okay. . . just trying to make small talk. Sheesh!

. . . You were such a cute baby! Okay, I’m done.

Lady Capulet: Well now, you’re getting to be a big girl now Juliet. Tell me, what are your thoughts on finding a man and settling down?

Juliet It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurse An honour! were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck’d wisdom from thy teat.

Lady Capulet 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 yearsThat you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse A man, young lady! lady, such a manAs all the world—why, he’s a man of wax.

Lady Capulet Verona’s summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse Nay, he’s a flower; in faith, a very flower.

Lady Capulet What say you? can you love the gentleman?This night you shall behold him at our feast;Read o’er 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 contentAnd what obscured in this fair volume liesFind 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 prideFor 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.

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

Lady Capulet Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?

Juliet I’ll look to like, if looking liking move:But no more deep will I endart mine eyeThan your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Juliet: Huh?

Nurse: Ooo . . . are we going to talk about boys? Does Juliet have a little boyfriend?

Lady Capulet: Errr, not quite. You see, your father and I think . . . well, we sort of think that you’ve been sitting around playing with your dolls for too long. Even I was thinking about boys a great deal when I was your age, and I think it’s high time that you went out and met someone. And, as luck would have it, there’s a fine young man by the name of Paris who is interested in meeting you and . . . uh, (looks uncomfortable) . . . showing you things.

Nurse: Oooo! Is this Paris-with-the-nice-butt?

Lady Capulet: That’s the one.

Nurse: Oh lucky, lucky Juliet!

Lady Capulet: So, what do you figure? Is that something you’d be interested in? He’ll be coming to dinner tonight. And he certainly isn’t poor.

(aside, looking more uncomfortable) Oh why did my husband have to be such a lousy poker player. I’m going to the special Hell.

(To Juliet) Think of all of the things he’d be able to give you. . . new clothes, nice jewelry, that pony you’ve always wanted…

Nurse: And maybe even a baby!

Lady Capulet: (looks even more uncomfortable) Yes. So, umm . . . there you have it. Well, what do you think, sweetie?

Juliet: Well, I’ll say ‘hello’, Mom. But, I mean, well, I’m thirteen! Doesn’t anyone else find this whole thing more than just a little creepy?