Act II, scene 1 ½

By RainbowSharpies

AN: If you have a problem with my Elizabethan English, deal with it! I tried my best! :O Although if you find specific parts that are inaccurate, go ahead and point them to me. I will most likely correct them.

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Mercutio
Come. Shall we go?

Benvolio:
Art thou certain of his absence?

Mercutio:
As certain as a certain Romeo is certainly mad.

Benvolio:
With love?

Mercutio:
How can he possibly know love?
He weeps in sorrow at the loss of his Rosaline,
Whom he never even had,
As if she were the first.
He mocks love, if such a thing exists
As sure as thou mock'st me.

Benvolio:
I mock thee?

Mercutio:
But too often.

Benvolio:
I don't recall.

Mercutio:
Dost thou not remember?
Only moments ago, thou was't accusing me of being far too handsome.

Benvolio:
Was I?

Mercutio:
Ay, complaining that my eyes sparkle in such a way that thou cannot bare to look
My skin too smooth, hair too thick,
So instead, thou look'st to my body, and decide I am too statuesque and fit.
This angered thee so.
I will never understand thy volatile temper.

Benvolio:
For all thy imperfections,
I wanted nothing but to strike thee!

Mercutio:
With fists?

Benvolio:
Nay, with lips!

Mercutio:
And if I choose fists?

Benvolio:
Much lube will be needed.

Mercutio:
What?

Benvolio:
Nothing.

Mercutio:
Right then,
I choose lips!

(Mercutio kisses Benvolio)

Benvolio:
I thought I was to strike thee.

Mercutio:
Thou hesitated too long, therefore I had no choice but to strike thee instead.

Benvolio:
I was unprepared!

(Benvolio kisses Mercutio)

Mercutio:
Revenge?

Benvolio:
Ay, as thou well know'st, I am a rather vengeful person.

Mercutio:
This cannot be discounted.

(Mercutio begins nibbling the neck of Benvolio, who makes a half-hearted attempt to push him away)

Benvolio:
What would one say if he were to witness us "fighting" as we are?

Mercutio:
Watch for a moment, then kindly suggest we hit some maids instead?

Benvolio:
That's dull. Thou know'st they can't fight properly.

Mercutio:
'Twould be quite unfair!

(They kiss deeply, and break for air)

Mercutio:
Let's be gone; I'll murder thee at home.

Benvolio:
Slow and painful, if thou wilt.

Mercutio:
Thy suffering will be great.

(Exeunt)