𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘐; 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

"I'm begging you, good Zach, let's call it a day. It's hot outside, and the Capulets are wandering around." Jack panted, "If we bump into them, we'll certainly get into a fight. When it's hot outside, people become angry and hot-blooded."

"You're like one of those guys who walks into a bar, slams his sword on the table, and then says, 'I pray I never have to use you.'" Zach rolled his eyes, "By the time he orders his second drink, he pulls his sword on the bartender for no reason at all."

"Am I really like one of those guys?" Jack frowned.

"Come on, you can be as angry as any guy in Italy when you're in the mood. When someone does the smallest thing to make you angry, you get angry." Zach shrugged, "And when you're in the mood to get angry, you find something to get angry about."

"And what about that?" He asked.

"You'll fight with a man who's cracking nuts just because you have hazelnut-coloured eyes. Only you would look for a fight like that." Zach smiled, "You started a fight with a man who coughed in the street because he woke up a dog that was sleeping in the sun. And yet you're the one who wants to teach me about restraint!"

"If I were in the habit of fighting the way you are, my life insurance rates would be sky high," Jack said.

"Your life insurance? That's foolish." He laughed.

"Oh great, here come the Capulets." Jack frowned.

"Well, well, I don't care." Zach raised his eyebrows. 

"Follow me closely, I'll talk to them." Jonah said to Daniel and Eben, "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'd like to have a word with one of you."

"You just want one word with one of us? Put it together with something else. Make it a word and a blow." Zach smirked. 

"You'll find me ready enough to do that, sir, if you give me a reason." Jonah told him.

"Can't you find a reason without my giving you one?" Zach asked.

"Zach, you hang out with Corbyn." Jonah glared.

"'Hang out?' Who do you think we are, musicians in a band? If we look like musicians to you, you can expect to hear nothing but noise." Zach touched the tip of his sword, "This is my fiddlestick. I'll use it to make you dance. Goddammit- 'Hang out!'"

"We're talking here in a public place. Either go someplace private, or talk it over rationally, or else just go away. Out here everybody can see us." Jack bit his lip.

"Men's eyes were made to see things, so let them watch. I won't move to please anybody." Zach smirked. Just then, Corbyn walked into the scene.

"Well, may peace be with you. Here comes my man, the man I'm looking for." Jonah smiled.

"He's not your man. Alright, walk out into a field, and he'll chase you. In that sense you can call him your 'man.'" Zach glared. 

"Corbyn, there's only one thing I can call you. You're a villain." Jonah's eyebrows furrowed together.

"Jonah, I have a reason to love you that lets me put aside the rage I should feel and excuse that insult. I am no villain. So, goodbye. I can tell that you don't know who I am." Corbyn frowned.

"Boy, your words can't excuse the harm you've done to me. So now turn and draw your sword." Jonah scowled.

"I disagree. I've never done you harm. I love you more than you can understand until you know the reason why I love you." Corbyn smiled, "And so, good Capulet- which is a name I love like my own name- you should be satisfied with what I say."

"This calm submission is dishonorable and vile. The thrust of a sword will end this surrender" Zach rolled his eyes, drawing his sword, "Jonah, you rat-catcher, will you go fight me?"

"What do you want from me?" Jonah glared.

"Good King of Cats, I want to take one of your nine lives. I'll take one, and, depending on how you treat me after that, I might beat the other eight out of you too." Zach smirked, "Will you pull your sword out of its sheath? Hurry up, or I'll smack you on the ears with my sword before you have yours drawn."

"I'll fight you," Jonah said, drawing his sword also.

"Noble Zach, put your sword away," Corbyn told him. 

"Come on, sir, perform your forward thrust, your passado," Zach said, ignoring Corbyn. They started to fight, moving back and forth, towards and away from each other. 

Corbyn gave in and drew his sword.

"Draw your sword, Jack. Let's beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, stop this disgraceful fight. Jonah, Zach, the Prince has banned fighting in the streets of Verona. Stop, Tybalt. Stop, good Zach."

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𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰. 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩.