The world was little more than a blur to me by the time the Capulets’ long-anticipated party finally started. As usual, all the pieces had just barely fallen into place, but when they fell, they fell beautifully. Lord and Lady Capulet looked almost regal, but Juliet looked like a goddess from somewhere far beyond our hastily-scurrying world. She and her parents greeted their guests graciously: there was Signior Martino and his wife and daughters, Count Anselme and his lovely sisters, the lady widow of Vitruvian, Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces, Mercutio and his brother Valentine. This Mercutio was an aged business partner of Lord Capulet, not Benvolio’s wild friend.Old Uncle Capulet was also there with his wife and daughters: Juliet’s intolerable cousins Rosaline and Livia. Unfortunately, Tybalt and his cousin Valentino were also among the guests, along with Lucian and Helena, a wealthy couple who were newcomers in Verona.

In appearance, at least, it was a fair assembly indeed. A fantastic and sumptuous banquet that almost cost the new cook her sanity started off the evening. Even the epicures among the guests declared the feast beyond reproach. Laughter and good humor reigned over all. After dinner was served and disposed of, I found a convenient corner from which I could observe the dancing and keep an eye on Juliet.

Paris accosted me, looking both imperious and insecure. “Good Nurse, will you guide me to the hand of your lady?”

I curtsied in reply. “Of course, my lord Count.”

“Juliet!” I called as I led Paris around the dancers to where she was chatting gaily with Rosaline and Livia.

“My lady,” Paris addressed Juliet, bowing as he did so. “Will you do me the honor?”

Juliet gave him a dazzling smile. “Yes, my lord.”

I retreated into my corner once again, watching as the couples organized themselves into the next dance, and tried not to be too anxious. Juliet seemed quite happy at the moment, and the situation was beyond my control. Silk and satin sparkled and shimmered by the dazzling light of hundreds of candles. Silver and gold caught the light and set it dancing through the guests’ dazzling jewels. Apparently, Paris had acquired more grace since I danced with him so long ago. He and Juliet swept smoothly through the measures, and Paris looked utterly dazzled by her. Maybe they were right for each other after all…

There was a royal commotion at the door. Peter burst into the ballroom leading a troupe of masquers— high-spirited young men in ornate masks who often crashed elegant parties such as this one. Rude as it sounds, they were actually quite welcome, for they provided a youthful touch of excitement to the evening. Lord Capulet hurried to greet them as if they had come at his own bidding:

“Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes unplagued with corns will walk about with you.”

The masquers and guests laughed, although some of the older ladies looked insulted.

“Ah, now my mistresses,” Lord Capulet continued “Which of you all will now join the dance? She that makes dainty, she, I’ll swear, hath corns.”

The guests laughed politely again, and the masked young men strode into the crowd, claiming dances with the ladies of their choice. One young man, dressed all in black and silver, moved further through the crowd than the others. The people shifted and reshuffled on their way to the dance, and suddenly the masked man was standing right in front of me, grinning like a chandelier.

“Dance with me, good Nurse!” he said. Before I could react, he caught me in his arms and swept me off into the dance. I shrieked from surprise. A frightening warmth spread through me as I looked up at him. Despite the glittering black mask that covered the upper part of his face, I knew him at once.

“You!” I breathed, fully conscious that I had never been this close to him before.

“Hello, Elena” said Benvolio.

I leaned closer to him and whispered, “What are you doing here? Have you lost your mind completely?”

“Not completely,” he replied, his smile still lingering in his eyes. “After I ran into you today, I caught up with Romeo— the useless one you met earlier. Somehow our…mutual friend never found him. When I caught up to him, he was bemoaning his heart in perfect safety. After calling him a fool among fools, I set about trying to talk him out of this infatuation with Rosaline. Before I could make any headway, a servingman came to us and asked us if we could read a guest list to him. Who should be on the list but Rosaline? The servingman cordially invited us as well to the Capulet party. After spying the names of some lovely young ladies of Verona who might catch my cousin’s eye on the list, I suggested to him that he come and compare his supposedly matchless Rosaline with the other young ladies there. Romeo agreed to come because of Rosaline. I organized some lads in need of a lark, and here we are.”

I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. “I’ve missed you.”

“It hasn’t been that long since morning,” he said, grinning.

“You know what I mean!” I said. “You’ve been away so long.”

“Yes, it’s been way too long,” he said, pulling me closer. “Romeo just provided me with a good excuse.”

I almost stopped in the middle of the dance floor, utterly flabbergasted. What came out of my mouth was “You’re a complete raving lunatic.”

Fortunately for my rapidly deteriorating conversation skills, the next dance was a lively one with no room for speech. Before tonight, I had always found dancing a rather revolting experience. With Benvolio, it was… quite different.

Another dance followed swiftly behind, and another, but all too soon the musicians grew weary and the music faded away. We stood facing one another, breathless.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, feeling slightly dizzy.

“I’ll bring you something,” he said.

“I’ll come with you,” I said. As he moved away, I saw something that made me cold with horror. “I--I thought you said he was besotted with Rosaline,” I quavered.

“What?” Benvolio asked, turning back towards me. He stiffened. “Oh, no. Is that--“

“Juliet,” I affirmed. “He’s—Romeo is— oh can’t you get him away from her?”

He shook his head slowly as we started moving through the crowd. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Me too,” I said. “You know, maybe I’d better handle this.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll deal with him after we get out of here.”

“If I don’t kill him first,” I muttered as I approached Romeo and Juliet.

“Nurse!” Lady Capulet called, giving me a small heart attack. “Call my daughter to me.” She was bidding farewell to her guests and chatting with Paris at the same time. Somehow she was completely oblivious to the fact that her daughter was being kissed thoroughly by the son of her worst enemy.

“Madam!” I said, trying not to scream. “Your—your mother craves a word with you.”

Looking away, I saw that Lord Capulet had trapped Benvolio in conversation.

Startled, Juliet broke away from Romeo. “Oh!” she said softly, as if awakening from a dream. Obediently, she hurried away, casting a tender backward glance at Romeo Montague.

Romeo, who had long ago taken off his mask, gazed after her with a look of infinite longing that made me nauseous. “Who is her mother?” he asked.

I drew a deep breath so I wouldn’t scream at him, and tried to tell myself why I couldn’t skewer him where he stood. “Her mother is the lady of the house. I am the nurse of her daughter that you…talked withal.”

It was somewhat comforting when his dreamy expression turned to a mask of agony. “Is she a Capulet? Oh, dear account! My life is my foe’s debt!”

Benvolio, still masked, came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “We gotta get out of here, man.”

Romeo turned to look at him, still in agony. “Yeah, okay.”

Then Lord Capulet, unbelievably oblivious Lord Capulet, ran up to them. “Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone! You will not stay?”

Benvolio shook his head.

“Why, then, I thank you all; I thank you honest gentlemen, good night.” Lord Capulet spouted.

I caught Benvolio’s quizzical, panicked glance as he inclined his head to the host. He gripped Romeo’s wrist, practically dragging him towards the other masquers and out the door.

Lord Capulet yawned and put his hand on the shoulder of a plate-laden servant’s shoulder, causing him to nearly break everything. “Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late. I’ll to my rest.”

The rest of the party drifted out of the room after him, except for Juliet. She ran over to me with a silly grin on her face. Her delight frightened me. “What’s he that follows here that would not dance?” she demanded.

“Dance? He was doing much more than dancing with you!” I said.

Juliet pushed me towards the door. “Go ask his name! If he be married, my grave is like to be my wedding bed.”

“You didn’t ask him his name?” I said, astonished and outraged. “You let him kiss you and you didn’t think to ask his name?”

“Go ask him!” she said, pushing me again.

I considered running out into the night and begging Benvolio to take me with him forever. As much as I longed to, I knew my conscience would never cease to torment me if I left this crazy girl to her fate. Sighing, I turned back to Juliet. “His name is Romeo, and a Montague.”

As furious as I was with Juliet, it nearly broke me to see the dismay that clouded her face. “My only love…” she gasped “sprung from my only hate--too early seen unknown and known too late!”

I was about to object to this ridiculous statement when Lord Capulet interrupted.

“Juliet!” he called. “Juliet!”

“Anon, anon,” I called. “Come, let’s away. The strangers are all gone.”