Our Romeo and Juliet Story

Scene four

Benvolio and Mercutio enter.

Mercutio - Where the devil can Romeo be? Didn't he come home last night?

Benvolio - Not to his father's house. I asked a servant.

Mercutio - That fair-skinned, hard-hearted hussy, Rosaline is going to torment him until he goes insane.

Benvolio - Tybalt, old Capulet's nephew, has sent a letter to Romeo's father's house.

Mercutio - I bet it's a challenge.

Benvolio - Romeo will answer the challenge.

Mercutio - Any man who knows how to write can answer a letter.

Benvolio - No, Romeo will respond to the letter's writer, telling him whether he accepts the challenge.

Mercutio - Oh, poor Romeo! He's already dead. He's been stabbed by a white girl's black eye. He's been cut through the ear with a love song. The center of his heart has been split by blind Cupid's arrow. Is he man enough at this point to face off with Tybalt?

Benvolio - Why, what's Tybalt's story?

Mercutio - He's tougher than the Prince of Cats. He does everything by the book. He fights like you sing at a recital, paying attention to time, distance, and proportion. He takes the proper breaks: one, two, and the third in your heart, He's the butcher who can hit any silk button. A

master of duels. He's a gentleman from the finest school of fencing. He knows how to turn any argument into a swordfight. He knows passado —- the forward thrust — the punto reverso — the backhand thrust —- and the hai – the thrust that goes straight through.

Benvolio - He knows what?

Mercutio - I hate these crazy, affected guys who use foreign phrases and newfangled expressions. I hate their strange manners and their weird accents! I hate it when they say, "By Jesus, this is a very good blade, a very brave man, a very good whore." Isn't this a sad thing, my good man? Why should we put up with these foreign buzzards, these fashion mongers, these guys who say "pardon me," these guys who care so much about manners that they can't kick back on a bench without whining? "Oh, my aching bones!"

Romeo enters.

Benvolio - Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

Mercutio - He looks skinny, like a dried herring without its eggs, and he hasn't got his girl. O flesh, flesh, you've turned pale and weak like a fish. Now he's ready for Petrarch's poetry. Compared to Romeo's girl, Laura was a kitchen slave. Surely she has a better love to make rhymes for her. Dido was shabbily dressed. Cleopatra was a gypsy girl. Helen and Hero were sluts and harlots. Thisbe might have had a blue eye or two, but that doesn't matter. Signor Romeo, bonjour. There's a French greeting that matches your drooping French-style pants. You faked us out pretty good last night.

Romeo - Good morning to you both. What do you mean I faked you out?

Mercutio - You gave us the slip, sir, the slip. Can't you understand what I'm saying?

Romeo - Excuse me, good Mercutio. I had very important business to take care of. It was so important that I had to forget about courtesy and good manners.

Mercutio - In other words "important business" made you flex your buttocks.

Romeo - You mean do a curtsy?

Mercutio - You've hit the target, sir.

Romeo - That's a very polite and courteous explanation.