Louis & Harry

Act I: Scene III

"Nurse, where's my son? Tell him to come to me." Lady Styles asks.

"I swear to you by my virginity at age twelve, I already told him to come. Come on! Where is he! What is he doing? What, Harry!"

"What is it? Who's calling me?" Harry asks, coming down the staircase.

"Your mother." The Nurse replies, nodding her head in the direction of his mom.

"Madam, I'm here. What do you want?" Harry asks her, entering her room.

"I'll tell you what's the matter!" She huffs pulling her son farther into the room.

"Nurse leave us alone for a while, we must talk privately." She says, shutting the door on the Nurse.

It only takes a moment for her to open the door up again. " Nurse, come back here. I just remembered, you can listen to our secrets. You know how young my son is."

"Yes, I know his age down to the hour." She replies, impressed with herself.

"He's not even seventeen." Lady Styles states.

"I'd bet seventeen of my own teeth-- but, I'm sorry to say I only have four teeth-- he's not seventeen. How long is it until Lammastide?"

(Lammastide = August first)

"Two weeks and a few odd days." Lady Styles replies, and Harry takes a seat on the bed.

"Whether it's even or odd, of all the days in the year, on the night of Lammas Eve, he'll be seventeen. He and Sean-- God rest his and all Christian souls-- were born on the same day. Well, Sean died and is with God. He was too good for me. But like I said, on the night of Lammas Eve, he will be seventeen. Yes, he will. Indeed, I remember it well. It's been fifteen years since the earthquake. He stopped nursing from my breast on that very day. I'll never forget it. I had put bitter wormwood on my breast as I was sitting in the sun, under the wall of the dove house. You and your husband were in Mantua. Boy do I have some memory! But like I said, when he tasted the bitter wormwood on my nipple, the pretty little babe got irritated and started to quarrel with my breast. Then, the dove house shook with the earthquake. There was no need to tell me to get out of there. That was fifteen years ago. By then he could stand up all by himself. No, I swear, by that time he could run and waddle all around. I remember because he cut his forehead just the day before. My husband-- God rest his soul, he was a happy man-- picked up the child. "Oh," he said, "Did you fall on your face? You'll fall backward when you grow smarter. Won't you, Har?" And I swear, the poor pretty thing thing stopped crying and said, "Yes." Oh, to watch a joke come true! I bet if I live a thousand years, I'll never forget it. "Won't you, Har," he asked. And the pretty fool stopped crying and said, "Yes."

("Fall backward" = have sex)

"Enough of this. Please be quiet." Lady Styles insists.

"Yes, madam. But I can't help laughing to think that the baby stopped crying and said, "Yes." I swear, he had a bump on his forehead as big as a rooster's testicle. It was a painful bruise, and he was crying bitterly. "You'll fall backward when you grow up, won't you, Har?" And he stopped crying and said, "Yes." The Nurse continued to laugh.

"Now you stop too, Nurse, please." Harry begged.

"Peace. I'm done talking. May God choose you to receive his grace. You were the prettiest baby I ever nursed. If I live to see you get married someday, all my wishes will come true." The Nurse smiled, and stroked Harry's cheek.

"Well, marriage is exactly what we have to discuss. Tell me, my son Harry, what is your attitude about getting married?" Harry's mother asked him.

"It is an honor I do not dream of." He replies honestly.

""An honor?" "If I weren't your only nurse, I'd say you had sucked wisdom from the breast that fed you."

"Well, start thinking about marriage now. Here in Verona there are boys and girls younger than you-- from noble families-- who have already became parents. By my count, I was already a mother at just about your age, while you remain a virgin. Well then, I'll say this quickly, the valiant Pearce wants you as his groom." Lady Styles tells her only child.

"What a man, young Harry. He's as great a man as any in the whole world. He's as perfect as if he were sculpted from wax." The Nurse encourages this engagement.

"Summertime in Verona has no flowers as fine as him." His mother agrees.

"No, he's a flower, truly, a flower." The Nurse nods.

"What do you say? Can you love this gentleman? Tonight you'll see him at our feast. Study Pearce's face and find pleasure in his beauty. Examine every line of his features and see how they work together to make him handsome. If you are confused, just look into his eyes. This man is single, and he lacks only a groom to make him perfect and complete. As is right, fish live in the sea, and it's wrong for a beauty like you to hide from a handsome man like him. Many people think he's handsome, and whoever becomes his partner will be just as admired. You would share all that he possesses, and by having him, you would lose nothing." Lady Styles says to Harry with a warm smile.

"Lose nothing? I'm fact, you'd be gaining more." The Nurse butts in.

"Give us a quick answer. Can you accept Pearce's love?" She looks questioningly at her son.

"I'll look at him and try to like him, at least if what I see is likeable. But I won't let myself fall for him any more than your permission allows." Harry replies, not ready to get married but wanting to make his mother happy.

Then, the door opens and Paul enters. "Madam, the guests are here, dinner is served, people are calling for you, people have asked for Harry, and in the pantry, people are cursing the Nurse. Everything's out of control. I must go and serve the guests. Please, follow straight after me." He tells them all, out of breath.

"We'll follow you. Harry, the count is waiting for you." Lady Styles says, placing a pearl necklace around her neck.

"Go boy, look for a man who'll give you happy nights at the end of happy days." The Nurse whispers to Harry.

End of scene...

A/N:

Early update to make up for my late one yesterday.

See you all tomorrow!

Any questions, comments, or concerns?