Romeo and Juliet before the Mask
Copyright 2015 Nadd Wellgreen
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This is the paragraph that points out the obvious: this is a work of fiction. It is about fictional characters from a play written 400 years ago that is set 300 years earlier than that. It came from a writing exercise proposed by a friend and was drafted during several insomnia sessions. The original plan for the document had Rosaline turning into a ranting serial killer at the end. This version instead explores her influence on Romeo and Juliet before they meet.
No actual persons known or unknown to the author are portrayed.
Any who wish to aver otherwise are invited here in front.
For any still unconvinced, additional dining is available in the rear.
Everyone else, please enjoy. And please leave a review!
Table of Contents
Romeo before Juliet
Juliet before Romeo
About the Author
Other Works
Romeo before Juliet
On the day before the Capulet mask, Romeo, as was he was wont to do when seeking advice, visits Friar Lawrence in the friar's study.
Romeo:
Good friar, I come a mendicant of love,
A palmer seeking relic of her heart.
For you did tutor her; I would you move
Some secret byway to her love t'impart.
Friar Lawrence:
Young palmer, women's hearts as jewels be,
They shine the best when given ample foil.
If you so love her, get to know the She.
Give ear to her when she her thoughts uncoil,
Store up her sharings in your inward book
Like avid schoolboy studying her tale,
And midst its leaves for inspiration look
When you would amatory shrine travail.
For every bud alike comes from the earth;
Your Rose, or any rose, therein has worth.
Romeo:
Your seedlings on a stony shore becast
Would hair more harvest than these hoary saws;
I pray you, for the Lord's day keep them fast,
For now you do but exercise your jaw.
Friar Lawrence:
There's more to Aphrodite than the prick
Of Cupid's arrow paints her, par avance.
For though like Saracen through narrow thick
That would upon the Frank with shaft advance,…
Romeo:
Good friar, spare me; cut straight to the pass.
Friar Lawrence:
Oh, good ye gods; I too have been in love.
You gape at that, you mandrake-milking ass?
I'll tell her likeness; pictured words must move.
Romeo:
I pray you, can you tell it any quicker?
The sun is paling and the clouds grow thicker.
Friar Lawrence:
My mistress was she, I by fealty bound
To serve; and though I could not openly
Give note to her in syllables my wound,
Yet still I sang her silent symphony.
She seldom painted; she had not the need--
Aurora lent her colors to her cheek.
When she would smile Apollo gave her heed,
Lest double suns ‘mongst mortals chaos wreak.
Her laughter lilted heavenward with wings
To cheer the angels hung in Empyry,
Where crystal chorus quintessential sang
Of Her who taught the shapes their symmetry.
But I was not to overstep my duty
Despite the strident call of Siren beauty.
Romeo:
Am I love’s vassal, amatory scraps
To beg like cur aside her board of favor?
We are of equal blood, though lapse
Of kindred past hath put each out of savor.
Friar Lawrence:
Your humour still is too much in the blood,
And blood of kindred quarrels stands between.
The passions can too quickly overreach
When all toward the same fair her doth lean.
Forget the woman, get to know the maid.
Befriend her as you would a pupil peer.
Peruse her as a garden unsurveyed,
And carry with you friendship as your gear.
For you may bear away that way more booty--
To love is not all just about the putti.