𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘝; 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮.

"Where's Potpan? Why isn't he helping us clear the table? He should be moving and scraping plates!" Thomas exclaimed.

"When only one or two men have all the good manners, and even they are dirty, things are bad." One servingman frowned.

"Take away the stools, the sideboards, and the plates. You, good friend, save me a piece of marzipan, and if you love me, have the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony and Potpan!" Thomas yelled.

"Yes, boy, I'm ready." Another servingman said.

"They're looking for you in the great chamber," Thomas told them.

"We can't be in two places at once, both here and there! Cheers, boys. Be quick for a while and let the one who lives the longest take everything." The first servingman said. They all left as Capulet entered the room with Jonah, Lady Capulet, myself as well as other members of the house. 

"Welcome, gentlemen. There was a time when I could wear a mask over my eyes and charm a lady by whispering a story in her ear. That time is gone, gone, gone. You are welcome gentlemen. Come on, musicians, play music." Capulet ordered, and the music instantly played, "Flip over the tables and get them out of the way. And put the fire out- it's getting too hot in here."

𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯'𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘷.

"Who is the girl on the arm of that lucky knight over there?" I asked a servingman.

"I don't know, sir." He replied, barely looking up from what he was doing.

"Her beauty is too good for this world; she's too beautiful to die and be buried. She outshines the other women like a white dove in the middle of a flock of crows." I sighed, dreamily, "When this dance is over, I'll see where she stands, and then I'll touch her hand with my rough and ugly one. Did my heart ever love anyone before this moment? My eyes were liars, then, because I never saw true beauty before tonight."

𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘩'𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘷.

"I can tell by his voice that this man is a Montague." I mumbled, angrily before turning to my page, "Get me my sword, boy- what, does this peasant dare to come here with his face covered by a mask to sneer at and scorn our celebration? Now, by the honor of our family, I do not consider it a crime to kill him."

"Why, what's going on here, nephew? Why are you acting so angry?" Capulet asked.

"Uncle, this man is a Montague- our enemy. He's a scoundrel who's come here out of spite to mock our party." I explained.

"Is it young Corbyn?" Capulet asked.

"That's him, that villain Corbyn." I scowled. 

"Calm down, gentle cousin. Leave him alone. He carries himself like a dignified gentleman, and, to tell you the truth, he has a reputation throughout Verona as a virtuous and well-behaved young man." Capulet smiled, "I wouldn't insult him in my own house for all the wealth in this town. So calm down. Just ignore him. That's what I want, and if you respect my wishes, you'll look nice and stop frowning because that's not the way you should behave at a feast."

"It's the right way to act when a villain like him shows up. I won't tolerate him." I said.

"You will tolerate him. What, little man? I say you will. What the- am I the boss here or you? What the- you won't tolerate him! God help me! You'll start a riot among my guests! There will be chaos! It will be your fault, you'll be the rabble-rouser!" Capulet told me.  

"But, uncle, we're being disrespected." I frowned.

"Go on, go on. You're an insolent little boy. Is that how it is, really? This stupidity will come back to bite you." Capulet sighed, "Keep your mouth shut, or else- more light, more light!" He turned to the servingman and encouraged further for everyone to dance.