How dare they?! Those wretches, untamable beasts, creatures of wild bloodlust! Fie, fie! They, O miserable Capulets, O unlistening Montagues, have once more - 'tis the fourth time now - fought in the streets of Verona!
And this time, they have taken one of mine own.
My good, gentle coz Mercutio, he whose tongue wert far sharper than any other man's, he whose wit was boundless like the tides, my prideful, sinful, brilliant cousin, is dead. Slain by the hotheaded Tybalt, who in turn young Romeo did slay. By Saint Peter, have these men lost their minds? Didst they not think of my creed ere they drew their rapiers, or did their bloodlust overpower the threat of death? Careth they in the least?
I have been kind, to say the least, and hath exiled Romeo from Verona in stead of the execution I swore to dole out to trespassers of my creed. His sentence is mild, for Tybalt indeed deserved his death. But hark, subjects! Hark me, House of Capulet, House of Montague! 'Twas not Romeo's place to carry out justice of the law; therefore did he earn his banishment. Subjects, 'tis not thy place to question my judgement; therefore do not plead and coddle me; do not beg. My orders are irrevocable, an thy trivial tears shalt not convince me in the least.
The death of my dear coz Mercutio hath convinced me that I have been too lenient, too kind. Zounds, but what punishment art more dreary to men than death? Have I not tried my hardest to create peace in Verona? Mercy, I see now, is a cheap, worthless trinket - 'tis a facade, an excuse. Marry, mercy is the sword that kills more than any man, for mercy pardons and lets live those who kill, thereby killing more and more.
I shall be kind no longer.
And this time, they have taken one of mine own.
My good, gentle coz Mercutio, he whose tongue wert far sharper than any other man's, he whose wit was boundless like the tides, my prideful, sinful, brilliant cousin, is dead. Slain by the hotheaded Tybalt, who in turn young Romeo did slay. By Saint Peter, have these men lost their minds? Didst they not think of my creed ere they drew their rapiers, or did their bloodlust overpower the threat of death? Careth they in the least?
I have been kind, to say the least, and hath exiled Romeo from Verona in stead of the execution I swore to dole out to trespassers of my creed. His sentence is mild, for Tybalt indeed deserved his death. But hark, subjects! Hark me, House of Capulet, House of Montague! 'Twas not Romeo's place to carry out justice of the law; therefore did he earn his banishment. Subjects, 'tis not thy place to question my judgement; therefore do not plead and coddle me; do not beg. My orders are irrevocable, an thy trivial tears shalt not convince me in the least.
The death of my dear coz Mercutio hath convinced me that I have been too lenient, too kind. Zounds, but what punishment art more dreary to men than death? Have I not tried my hardest to create peace in Verona? Mercy, I see now, is a cheap, worthless trinket - 'tis a facade, an excuse. Marry, mercy is the sword that kills more than any man, for mercy pardons and lets live those who kill, thereby killing more and more.
I shall be kind no longer.
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