Sword Crossed Lovers

Montague Schemes

Benvolio wraps his arm around his cousin's shoulders and shoves him playfully aside.  Romeo attempts to shove him off, his heart plagued with the weight of unrequited love.
"Tut man, one fire burns out another's burning.  One pain is lessened by another's anguish.  Turn giddy, and be helped 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," suggests Benvolio.
"Your drugs are excellent for that," snaps Romeo, depressed.
"For what, I pray thee?"
"For your broken shin."
"Why Romeo, art thou mad?" laughs Benvolio, trying not to think back on the time he cut open his shin and resorted to witchcraft to numb the pain.
"Not mad, but bound more than a madman is, shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented and—" the Montague pauses, his eyes caught on a servant on a Capulet horse looking quite puzzled.  "Good e'en, good fellow," he says to the servant, causing him to approach the two Montagues.

"May the gods give you a good evening.  I pray, sir, can you read?" asks Peter, passing the handsome young Montague the slip of paper from Lord Capulet.
"Ay, I can read my own fortune in my misery," snaps the Montague with a glum expression.  Benvolio slaps Romeo's arm for his rudeness.
"Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can you read anything you see?" questions Peter once more.
"Ay, if I know the letters and the language," answers Romeo.
"Well, that's an honest answer.  Rest you merry," he chimes, turning his horse to leave the two Montagues, mistaking Romeo's answer to mean he indeed is illiterate.

Romeo laughs as the horse's ass faces him and Benvolio pushes him forwards.  "Stay, fellow. I can read.  I can read."  Peter turns back to face him and indicates where on the letter to read.  Romeo begins reading, "'Seigneur Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of Vitruvio; Seigneur Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; My fair Rosaline and Livia; Seigneur Valentio; Lucio and the lively Helena.'  A fair assembly. Whither should they come?" asks Romeo once finished with the letter's contents.
"Up," replies Peter, taking back the letter and making mental notes of the names.
"Whither? To supper?"
"To our house."
"Whose house?" chimes Benvolio, nudging Romeo's arm.
"My master's," replies Peter.
"Indeed, I should have asked thee that before," remarks Romeo, turning to leave glumly.
"Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the 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!" cheers Peter, leaning down to grasp Benvolio's arm in an invitation grasp.

Benvolio's eyes dance as he hollers cheers, leaping up against Romeo as Peter gallops away. "The beautiful Rosaline whom you love so much will be at Capulet's feast with all the admired beauties of Verona!  Go thither, and with untainted eye compare her face with some that I shall show, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow," beams the older Montague, patting Romeo's back enthusiastically.  The younger Montague sighs and pouts,  "When the devout religion of mine eye maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires, and these, who, often drowned, could never die, transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!  One fairer than my love?"  He scoffs.  "The all-seeing sun ne'er saw her match since first the world begun."
"Come on, you saw her fair, none else being by, herself poised with herself in either eye.  But in that crystal scales let there be weighed your lady's love against some other maid that I will show you shining at the feast, and she shall scant show well that now shows best."

Romeo sighs a long and difficult sigh, acting as if the whole world was about to crash down around him after making up his mind.  He turns slowly to Benvolio, seeing the delightful hope dancing in his eyes.  He cracks a smile and replies, "Fine, I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, but to rejoice in splendor of mine own."