Queen Mab (19 page)

Lord Capulet stormed into the room, thinking his child had merely relapsed into her earlier stubborn defiance.  "Bring Juliet!  Her lord is here!"

Neither Nurse nor Lady Capulet could answer words beyond.  "She is dead!  She is dead!  She is dead!"

Lord Capulet looked as if they were speaking in foreign tongues, puzzled why his daughter could not rise.  He felt her hand and spoke, "She is cold."  He swept back her hair and straightened her gown, as if fixing the appearances might change the truth.  "Death lies on her like an untimely frost upon the sweetest flower of all the field."

Friar Laurence and Paris entered in and Friar Laurence inquired, "Come, is the bride ready to go to church?"

His feigned innocence rang true.

"Ready to go, but never to return."  Lord Capulet grabbed Paris's arm.  "O son! The night before thy wedding day, Death hath lain with thy wife. There she lies, flower as she was, deflowered by him.  Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded.  I will die and leave him all—life, living, all is Death's."

Paris became as pale as if the life had been taken from him and not she.  One after another, they seemed to almost play at grief, raising their voices to let the heavens know who had been injured the worst. 

It was not until Friar Laurence raised his hands, chiding them, "Peace!  For shame!  She was a child of both you and heaven, and now heaven has taken her all.  You sought her promotion, well, now she has been elevated to the clouds to sing among the angels.  You weep now for her advancement?  Dry your tears.  Place rosemary upon this fair corpse, and take her to the church where she shall lie with her bridegroom in heaven." 

Lord Capulet turned to the servants, which had gathered to see what horror caused the family to cry.  He said, "All the things for this wedding, turn from white to black.  The dance, to mourning, the cheer to burial feast, our bridal flowers serve for a buried corpse.  All things, change them to the contrary."

Friar Laurence ushered the family away.  "Sir, you go and, madam, go with him, and you, too, County Paris.  Everyone prepare to follow this fair corpse unto her grave.  The heavens have frowned upon you for some ill, move them no more by crossing their high will."

Lord Capulet paused at the doorway and murmured with regret, "Queen Mab warned me true."

"S
o you would rather her dead than wed, Queen Mab?" said Faunus.  He was waiting outside of the home of the Capulets for her, listening and watching as the cries of the entire House turned from joy to weeping and sorrow.  "I thought you sought to protect the Capulets, not ruin them."

She could see he was trying to glean her game.  She kept the letter for Romeo from the Friar tucked within her pocket and cloaked herself in the now false face of her revenge.  "If I cannot be with my love, no one shall."

"Death for a death for a death?  You have blood on your hands, Mab."

"Aye, and I shall see more blood till the rivers run red."

Faunus shrugged his shoulders.  "Do you think this will raise the House of Montague?  To seat the Capulets so low that the Montagues seem upon a hill?"

"I will restore the House of Montague, Faunus, and I say that you shall not stop me."

"And I will see that it is truly destroyed.  All that is yours shall be mine, and in this I shall rejoice."

"Why, Faunus?  Why after all these centuries did you decide it was time to act?"

Faunus motioned to the sky.  "My Queen, when you see the days fade one into the next, when you have tasted all the pleasures in your kingdom and then look out and see a world that you long for but know you shall never taste... well, an eternity of such longing will drive a person to madness."

"I would have shared it freely.  If only you had not stolen my bull all those many years ago," she replied with soft truth.

"It was the only wise decision I ever made, for in stealing your bull, we are where we are now.  This recent diversion has proved entertainment aplenty.  Both you and I shall see this to the end.  Indeed, the streets will run with blood, either yours or mine, Queen Mab.  But one way or the other, it will end."

And with those words, Faunus was off leaping on cloven hooves towards Mantua.  Queen Mab waved her rosewood wand and was at once the size of a dragonfly.  She called a raven over, who swooped low and let her cling to the feathers of his back. "Away!  We must fly!"

Over the farmlands they soared, past vineyards and flocks, but no matter how fast the bird's wings flapped, Faunus was still far ahead.

"For Mercutio," she thought.  "I do this for Mercutio."

*****

R
omeo walked the streets of Mantua when a servant he thought was Balthasar came into his presence.  "How now, Balthasar!  News from Verona!  Do you have a letter from the Friar?  Have you word from Juliet?  For my dreams seem to make me think that happy news is on its way to me.  Nothing is foul when she fairs well!" 

But it was not Balthasar.  Faunus, cloaked in the illusion of this man, stammered and hung his head, as if what he shared gave him great pains. "She is dead.  I saw her body laid out in the Capulet's vault myself.  Forgive me for bringing such terrible news."

Romeo shook his head as if by shaking it he could turn the world on its axis and make time reverse. "I must leave.  I must to Verona tonight.  Hire me a horse!  Get me a quill and parchment!"

"You cannot, my lord!  If you are caught, it will mean your death!" Faunus spoke in false protest.

"Leave me to see what the cruel fates have spelled out in the stars for me.  You are sure, no letters from the friar?"

"Not a one."

"No matter.  Go.  Prepare for my departure.  We leave immediately."

Faunus gave a bow before going inside to see to his master's command.  While he could hide his horns and hooves, he could not hide the smile of glee and satisfaction from his face.

Alone, Romeo leaned against a wall for support, the grief causing his shoulders to heave in sorrow until, exhausted, they finally stilled. 

"Juliet, I shall join you tonight.  Though death may have parted us on this earth, in eternity we shall live side by side." Romeo lifted his eyes, and their glazed dullness seemed those of one who had already leaned into the Reaper's kiss.  "There is an apothecary, a man of meager means who might be swayed by the weight of my purse."

Romeo stumbled blindly through the streets and stopped at a crumbling doorway, surrounded by withered plants in untended pots.  Romeo called, his voice still rough from emotion, "What, ho! Apothecary!"

The man who came out was beggarly thin.  His cheekbones were so sharp they could cut.  His hair hung in ill-tended mats and his face was red from the long habit of tasting his own wares.

The apothecary called out, "Who calls so loud?"

"I see you are poor and I have forty ducats."

The apothecary looked at him with interest.

"Give me a dram of poison, one that will carry me off with the first drop and release me from this wretched life."

The apothecary shook his head and waved his hands to shoo Romeo away.  "I may have such poisons, but the law would kill me should I give them to you."

"Are you so afraid to die?  Your hunger shall kill you before the law shall rain upon your head.  The world is not your friend nor is the world's law.  The world's law will never make you rich."  Romeo jingled his bag of coins.  "So break the law and be not poor."

The apothecary's eyes lit up as he heard the clinking metal in Romeo's purse.  His fingers rubbed, as if they could feel the silver and gold, and his lips whetted in desire.  Slowly, the apothecary nodded his head as his soul made peace with his desperate wants. "My poverty, but not my will, consents."

Romeo replied, "Then I pay your poverty, and not your will."

The apothecary went inside and opened a drawer in his medicine chest.  He unfolded a paper wrapped around a mound of innocent dust.  "Put this in any liquid thing you will, and drink it off; and, if you had the strength of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight."

He poured it into a vial and handed it to Romeo.

Romeo, in turn, placed the heavy bag of ducats in the apothecary's hand gratefully, knowing that he himself would have no future use for it.  "There is your gold.  It is a worse poison to men's souls, doing more murders in this loathsome world than this compound that you may not sell.  In fact, I have sold you poison; you, compassionate apothecary, have sold me none.  Farewell."  Romeo paused on his way out the door.  "Buy yourself some food.  Use these funds to hang meat upon your bones.  I name you inheritor of my excess of days."

Romeo walked on, gripping the vial like a precious gem.  "Come, cordial and not poison, go with me to Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee."

*****

Q
ueen Mab came to Romeo's dwelling disguised in the robes of a layperson, the letter from Friar Laurence safely in her hand.  She found the home deserted without a sign of life.  Romeo and Faunus were gone.

T
he morning hours were close, but the sky was still dark.  The funeral long since done, not a soul was left in the graveyard.  The gate to the Capulet mausoleum where Juliet's body lay was left unlocked by the Friar in the hopes that Romeo would soon arrive.

It was not he, but another suitor, who made his way inside. 

Paris took the torch and a small bouquet of flowers from his servant.  "Keep your ear upon the ground and listen for any that might disturb me.  Whistle if someone does approach.  Give me these precious moments alone with the woman who should have been my bride."

The servant seemed only too happy to depart and leave Paris in this gloomy place.

Paris tidied his straight, black hair nervously, as if to make himself presentable to this woman who never would care.  He walked through the winding hallway, caskets placed into the walls and graves buried in the floors, until he reached the monument of Juliet's tomb.  The marble sarcophagus sat in the center of the family crypt.  Using a metal rod, he slid back the heavy lid.  Paris shivered, promising the gods this violation was an act of love, not desecration.  He put the delicate blossoms upon her bosom and bent over to kiss her brow.  He whispered, "Death is but a passing shadow. A boundary where I may not tread.  In living, and living well, I shall make each day a tribute to thee and mourn a life taken too soon." 

He stirred, sensing that someone else had entered.  Fear caused his pulse to race.  He looked over his shoulder, unsure if he would find man or ghost. 

It was neither. 

It was an ethereal woman dressed in red velvet and gold.  She swept towards him as if floating upon a cloud.  The darkness seemed to greet her and return to her life and light.

"Who are you, beautiful woman?" spoke Paris, his eyes changing, roving over her body with hunger, the lady he came to mourn forgotten as if a dream.

Queen Mab stared at him strangely.  "You do not recognize me?"

"Nay, gentlewoman.  I have never set eyes upon you before."

Mab's mind was a whirl as she tried to guess Faunus's next move.  This tomb should have been empty, but Paris was here just when Romeo might arrive.  She might be a queen, but Faunus played at bishop—able to move in all directions, but only at an angle.  She hoped she could protect the gentle pawn that lie asleep within the slab of stone.

"Let us say that we are here for the same reason," Mab replied.

Paris's vision seemed to dim, as if descending once again into another life. He turned back to Juliet.  "To mourn the fall of the sweetest heart in the House of Capulet?  If that is your purpose, then indeed, you find here a kindred soul."

Mab tilted her head in acknowledgement.  "A man draws near, County Paris.  A man who bears no harm towards thee, but comes tonight to make his peace.  Depart from this place and let him be," she commanded.

Stricken, aware of the punishment if found opening a grave, Paris ran out to the churchyard.  Mab followed after, exiting the door just as Romeo arrived with Balthasar. Rather than fleeing, Paris hid himself behind a tombstone to listen to what this man had to say.  Mab crouched not far away, hoping he would continue home once Romeo was safely out of sight.

Romeo handed a note to his servant.  "Take this letter.  If you hold any affection in your heart towards me, Balthasar, see it delivered to my father."

Balthasar took it and placed it in his shirt front.

"Now, give me the torch.  Do not meddle in the affairs to come, no matter what you witness."  Seeing his servant's hesitation, Romeo clapped him on the shoulder and assured, "I enter to see Juliet, for upon her hand is a precious ring that I must retrieve.  But I swear, if you come in to hinder me, I will strike you down and end thee.  Do not doubt the truth of my words or my resolve."

Balthasar stumbled back from the force of Romeo's warning, then turned to run as fast as he could towards the House of Montague. 

Romeo stepped forward and looked at the entrance of the mausoleum.  He placed his hand upon the door, knowing what fate waited for him within when footsteps came from behind.

The sound of metal being removed from a sheath preceded Paris's voice.  "Do you come here to defile the bodies of my love, Juliet, and her cousin, Tybalt?  I shall apprehend you, Romeo, for only your death by the hangman's noose is the proper payment for the lives that you have purchased."

Dread filled Mab's heart.  If she had known these would be Paris's words, she would have left him in the tomb to be surprised.  It seemed as if every move she took to forestall the deaths to come only moved them one step closer.  Oh, that she had never planted the dreams of love in this Paris, for they took too quickly to his mind and now, like a creeping vine, choked out all sense, and soon, all life.

But Romeo turned around and tried to warn him. "Tempt not a desperate man.  Go.  Leave me.  Do not put another sin upon my head.  I have come to take my own life and will not take yours."

"I do defy thy conjurations and apprehend thee for a felon here!"