The Extemporaneous Balcony Play

                    (a restless element)


(Night.  The Capulets' estate.  Juliet paces her balcony.  She is
wearing dark red men's pajamas with white trim, fuzzy slippers, and a
fluffy white bathrobe.)


JULIET:    (Whispers)  Romeo?

     (He's not there.  She soliloquizes.)

Why you?  (Pause.)  Why not?  You're so goddamn cute.  Great ass; good
cheekbones; nice skin.  I wish we could get around all this family crap.
I wish you had a job and we could save some money and move out.  No, I
don't.  I wish you didn't make me so crazy.  I wish I could sleep.  I
can't.  So where are you?  If you've gone home to bed, I'll kill you
tomorrow.  Or myself.

     (A figure stumbles through the foliage.  He wears jeans and a light
jacket .)

Is it you?  I was thinking about you.  What took you so long?

MERCUTIO:  I hadda take a piss in the rose bushes.


JULIET:    Oh, it's you.

MERCUTIO:  Yeah, Mercutio, man of your dreams.


JULIET:    Get out of here.  You'll ruin it.

MERCUTIO:  Sorry, babe, it's already ruined.


JULIET:    Keep your voice down.  Where is he?

MERCUTIO:  It's not my fault.  He drank too much at the party.  I told
him to pace himself.  Then on the way over, shortcut through the
orchard, he cracked his melon on a tree branch.


JULIET:    Oh!

MERCUTIO:  Nah, he's fine.  He'll be fine.  He'll have a mark.  Bigger
than one of your hickeys, even.  But he'll live.  It was interesting,
though.  First time that's happened.

     (She looks at him, shocked, then recovers.)


JULIET:    You're such a bastard.  Are you drunk?

MERCUTIO:  Oh, yeah.  (Pause.)  Bastard?  Hey, I came over here to tell
you, didn't I?  Otherwise you'd be out here howling at the moon all
night.  Get pneumonia and die.  He'd be depressed.  What kind of friend
would I be?  Hey, nice place.  I've never been here.  Why have I never
been here?


JULIET:    I don't howl at the moon.  You howl at the moon.

MERCUTIO:  If you say so.  (He begins to howl.)


JULIET:    Will you shut the fuck up?

MERCUTIO:  I thought it was funny.


JULIET:    I don't howl.  I sigh.

MERCUTIO:  Whatever.


JULIET:    Is that wine?

MERCUTIO:  Yes.


JULIET:    Can I have some?

MERCUTIO:  Yes.


JULIET:    Hand it up.

MERCUTIO:  You come down.  I'm comfortable.


JULIET:    So am I.

MERCUTIO:  Oh well then.


JULIET:    Oh well.

MERCUTIO:  Don't be like that.  It wasn't his fault.  Just bad luck.
He'll come tomorrow.  Cheer up, little camper.


JULIET:    Fuck off, little camper.

MERCUTIO:  Blow me.


JULIET:    I'm not your mom.

MERCUTIO:  Nice.  He really wanted to see you, too.  Wouldn't shut up
about it.  I had to drag out the friggin' Queen Mab thing just to get
off the subject for five seconds.


JULIET:    What's with that, anyway?

MERCUTIO:  Even I don't know anymore.  People like it, I guess.

     (She bristles again, and lights a cigarette.)

     Hey, you have smokes?


JULIET:    Mmmaybe.

MERCUTIO:  Can I bum one?


JULIET:    I'm comfortable.

MERCUTIO:  Fine.  I'll come up.


JULIET:    Bring the wine.

MERCUTIO:  Well, duh.

     (Mercutio climbs the trellace, rather skillfully.  Juliet gives him
a cigarette, and a light.)

     Thank you.

     (He settles in, as though to hang around a while.  He chuckles.)

     Tree branch.  Pow!  Poor kid.  Nice kid, but what a schmuck.  Nice
view from up here.


JULIET:    He's not a schmuck.

MERCUTIO:  Sure he is.


JULIET:    You're supposed to be his friend.

MERCUTIO:  I am his friend.  That's how I know he's a schmuck.  (Pause.)
I mean, come on, he sees you once, literally once, and he's in love.


JULIET:    What's wrong with that?

MERCUTIO:  Nothing.  That I can see, actually.  But then he marches in
here at night, right into the lion's den.  What if your dad saw him?


JULIET:    You're here.  What if he saw you?

MERCUTIO:  Yeah, but...  Okay then, what about at the end?  He thinks
you're dead, so what does he do?


JULIET:    I can't believe it.  You really want to talk about this?

MERCUTIO:  Not really, but it makes my point.  If he'd hang around for
two minutes, you'd wake up, and everything would be groovy.  But no,--


JULIET:    That's enough.  I think you'd better go.

MERCUTIO:  I'm sorry.  Please.  I just think... to me, that's not love,
okay?  It's... a stupid, adolescent... thing.


JULIET:    We are adolescents.

MERCUTIO:  (Pause.)  It just makes me angry that it's for a guy like
that... Fine.  Never mind.

     (He begins to leave.)

     Thanks for the cigarette.


JULIET:    Yeah.  Tell him hi from me.

MERCUTIO:  He'll come tomorrow.


JULIET:    Hey.

     (Mercutio stops, one leg over the railing.)

     If for him it's only... an infatuation, then what is it with me?

MERCUTIO:  Really?  It means talking about it a little.


JULIET:    A little is okay.

MERCUTIO:  Okay.  If you say so.  Here's how I see it.  And I could be
totally off-base, but you know, I am an observer here.


JULIET:    Not a neutral observer.

MERCUTIO:  Fuck no.  Who said I was?


JULIET:    Okay then.

MERCUTIO:  Okay.  So here's what I think.  And this is nothing against
him, I really do care about him a lot.  But I think I understand this.
He just happens to fulfill a need for you.


JULIET:    Fuck you.

MERCUTIO:  No, not that need, fuck you right back.  What you need is
spontaneity.  Your life is very structured.  For you, romance is in the
breaking of rules, and routines.  But it's tricky; if you ask for it and
get it, it isn't spontaneity.


JULIET:    Spontaneity.

MERCUTIO:  Yeah, that's why you stand out here.  You don't know exactly
when he'll show up, just that he will.  Could be any moment.  That's
exciting to you.  Your families hate each other, so you have to move
fast.  You get little moments together, with only a moment's notice.
It's unpredictable.  Spontaneous.  (Pause.)  Well?


JULIET:    You're mostly full of shit.  But then you are just an
observer, aren't you?

MERCUTIO:  (Pause.)  Okay then, have a nice night.


JULIET:    I'm sorry.

MERCUTIO:  No, don't.  I'm used to it.


JULIET:    But I am.  Sorry.  Can I ask you something?

MERCUTIO:  Sure.


JULIET:    What about you?  About... what happens to you?

MERCUTIO:  Oh.  (Pause.)  I think it's funny.


JULIET:    I don't.

MERCUTIO:  Nah, it is.  It's funny, because at the end... Well, now
we're talking about it again.


JULIET:    Tell me.

MERCUTIO:  Okay.  With Romeo, it's what he wants, really.   It's
beautiful.  It fits.  It's neat and tidy.  I'm happy for him, in a weird
way.  And envious.  (She looks at him.)  He gets half a statue.  But
also, it's boring.  Almost too perfect.  With me, it's unexpected.
Humor is all about timing.


JULIET:    I think it's the most tragic thing in the whole play.
Maybe... the only truly tragic
thing.

MERCUTIO:  No.  The tragic thing is that we never get to know, what
would have happened after.  Would it really still be perfect, later?
Can anything?  Was it even for real?  Or maybe, was there another story
in there somewhere, an even better one...?


JULIET:    Another story?

     (He very nearly kisses her.  She very nearly accepts.)

MERCUTIO:  See?  Spontaneity.


JULIET:    Don't.  (Pause.)  We can't.  It would be a totally different
story.

MERCUTIO:  Yes, it would.  So?


JULIET:    So, I don't know.

MERCUTIO:  Okay.  We don't have to know.  It's okay.  Good night.

     (He goes to leave.  She stops him.  They look at one another.  Long
pause.)


                              - END -




                    (c) Copyright 1996 Erik Hallberg