Thoughts of Tybalt.

Hell hath no fury like a villain with a kinsmen slain. Will you walk? Nay for he did not. In the end was the real foe struck down? Nay. Romeo hath nothing whilst Mercutio lay dead. A victory won? No, Romeo retired, mad blood stirring. Have I inexorably called forth an occasion to let the drums sound in his ears, to cross blades on the field where the blood hath been spilled? Could I not take truce with the unruly spleen? Should I have made peace with the Montague? Nay, to dishonor thy name of Capulet, I shall be armed against myself. Will my Lord, God, amerce me for my sin, taking the life of one did not cause my pain? Romeo, refusing my challenge. Why? An agenda kept secret from the prying eyes of the world does he? My fair cousin Juliet somehow entangled in this? For I feel ‘tis the reason for Romeo to deny my desire. Is it possible that thy cousin hath married the Montague? Juliet’s gaze into Romeo’s eyes at the ball of Capulet shall be a look I shall remember. Could it be that her hearts deepest desire hath engulfed Juliet’s senses? Woe is me, a Capulet and a Montague together as one, it’s not right. Romeo shall pay for his infidelity to his name, his mockery of our family. Romeo will receive what he deserves. I shall ask to duel and when thy challenge is denied, I shall remove my fiddlestick and put an end to his life. The Prince hath forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Fight not in Verona but in a distant and neutral land? Or a hidden place where naught but the adversary and the kinsmen know? Banishment from fair Verona shall be the victors reward. To be killed or to be banished? Is there truly a difference? The Almighty, have thou raised thy soul? Shall I trust the flattering truth of sleep? No, clear the thoughts of my mind must be. For Grim’s cold hands hath death-marked my life. But when shall it be taken from me? Will thy dying breath be set by the hand of Romeo? The birds sing praise and the gates of Heaven sound. This day, fate, fortune’s fool, shall take its toll. The life of a fool is peppered. Church bells shall ring, crowds shall mourn and another life shall be forever lost. And what of thy families? The dispute that hath mired the sons and daughters in a world forever known as at war, shall it end? Unjust is the feud, to lose our lives over what thy Lord and Lady hath against the Montague’s, fair it is not. Thy clock is ticking and the end is nigh, could I not just leave this life with dignity? Alas I cannot, Lord Capulet hath made sure of that. And in the end was it all worth it? Achieve anything hath thy family? Nay. The loss of children and their kinsmen alike, no gain do they receive. And so I accept my fate and end this madness.