Queen Mab by Kate Danley Page A

Capulet to eject them, but the sound of Mercutio's gentle ribbing and explosive laughter among these friends held her tongue.  She could not send him away.  Instead, she retired behind a column as Tybalt greeted the enemy at the door.
    "This, by his voice, should be a Montague."  Tybalt turned to his page and commanded, "Fetch me my rapier, boy."
    "Why, how now, kinsman! Wherefore storm you so?" asked Lord Capulet.  His attention was upon Mercutio.  Lord Capulet placed his hand upon his nephew's arm, urging him to notice Prince Escales's kinsman.  But Tybalt would not be silenced, each man unaware that the other was in a battle for survival.
    "Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, a villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn at our solemnity this night," Tybalt explained.
    Lord Capulet followed his glance and remarked, "Young Romeo is it?"
    "Tis he, that villain Romeo."
    With soothing words, Lord Capulet tried to cool his nephew's fiery temper.  "Content thee.  Let him alone."
    Tybalt let out a snort.
    Lord Capulet continued, "He has a reputation to be a virtuous and well-governed youth, proved in the company he keeps."  Lord Capulet gave a meaningful glance to Mercutio.  "I would not for the wealth of all the town disparage him in my house.  Pay Romeo no mind."
    Tybalt made a move to make argument, but Lord Capulet silenced him.  "It is my will, which you will respect.  Do not shame me with your frowns and inhospitable storms which do not fit the joy of this feast."
    Tybalt's face became dark.  "It fits when such a villain is a guest.  I'll not endure him."
    Lord Capulet turned and rebuked. "He shall be endured!  I say he shall!  Am I the master here or you?  Go to.  You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!  You shall make a mutiny among my guests!"
    "Why, uncle, it is a shame," Tybalt insisted.
    "Be quiet!" he replied, cuffing his nephew across the ear. Tybalt stood in shock as the entire room fell quiet at the sound of the strike.  Lord Capulet straightened his tunic.  He looked about the room to face the reproachable silence and called out, "More light, more light! For shame!  I'll make you quiet. What?  Is this a celebration or no?  Cheerily, my hearts!"
    Tybalt watched as Lord Capulet stumbled off to yell for more music or fire, anything to bring distraction, and Tybalt quietly withdrew.
    Queen Mab looked on, knowing this Tybalt was the man she would have to endure in the years to come.  Still, no matter her reservations, she reminded herself, she was here to see to his ascent, no matter how distasteful it might be.  To protect the House of Capulet, she must be light of foot and ready to dance with her partner, young love, whose complicated footsteps would keep her on her toes. 
    She edged her way around the ballroom, the flickering light of the candles settling a golden glow upon the revelers. 
    Lord Capulet's daughter descended from her rooms and all eyes turned to see who joined the feast.  She was a delicate vision of loveliness, spun sugar which begged for gentleness so as not to break.  Her thick brown hair was wound in braids to form a crown upon her head.  Her gown of pink gossamer silk floated with each step, seeming to slow the world with its whispering sighs.  Modest jewels upon her bodice and neck seemed to shine a light upon the true gem they could not adequately adorn.  As Juliet's slippered foot left the stairs and touched the floor, Mab was pleased to see Paris there to bow low before her and lead her out into the dance.  The young maiden seemed open to his overtures and willing to listen to the compliments and niceties of his lips.  Lute and woodwind piles played as the two found quiet comfort in the touch of a hand and foot.
    But Queen Mab's eyes were taken from this couple and fixed like a magnet to north, for crossing hands in the intricate patterns of the Amoroso was Mercutio.  His face was alight with joy and life as his feet lifted off the ground.  The