The sun above Verona's marketplace was oppressive. Transactions were handled curtly, and some citizens passed out from the heat. Mercutio sat upon a hay bale between two merchant stalls and wondered about the young woman he had yet to meet. Juliet Capulet. She was now as a sister to him. For she had impetuously married his madman, his compatriot, his great friend, his Romeo. When the rival lords Montague and Capulet found out, they were suddenly the best of allies as they strove together to undo it. Friar Laurence was thrown in jail for having performed the secret ceremony. This unholy imprisonment was done to force the church's hand, to expedite an annulment. The worry, of course, was that the now sequestered Juliet might be with child - that would close the deal unfavorably. Her nightgown and sheets were examined each morning by Lord Capulet himself.

The union of Romeo and Juliet did not quell the hatred between the houses, as Friar Laurence had hoped. It fanned to a prodigious height the flames of a quarrel that had endured for generations. Blood insisted on its course. Mercutio, neither Montague nor Capulet, proposed a skirmish outside of Verona, in a comparatively cool grove with plenty of level ground. Ten of the best swordsmen from each house would engage there. When one side was completely vanquished, the other side, however few, would be the victors. Romeo for the Montagues, and Tybalt for the Capulets, agreed to the terms. It would be a senseless blood bath, but passion was so high it needed release. That was what Mercutio told himself, at least.

Still, he became distressed at possibly losing Romeo to the tip of a rapier. Tybalt, the Prince of Cats, the greatest of all Capulet swordsmen, would make it his devout duty to see that Romeo did not survive the skirmish. So torn, Mercutio went down by the Adige River to the Grievous Crone for help. Consulting with a witch might mean his soul was sealed for Hell, but he had to do whatever he could to insure Romeo's life. The Crone made a brew and steeped a mandrake root in it while she chanted. An hour passed. Mercutio watched the cracks in the walls of her hovel bleed. She placed the warm, soggy mandrake in his palm and spoke.

"Give this talisman to Romeo and tell him to carry it in his left hand, in place of a buckler. It will protect him as no shield can. But...there is always a price for an enchantment this great. I do not know what it is. You will learn the cost. May your heart be able to bear it."

The heat in Verona was still wretched on the day of the skirmish, but the canopy of the grove provided some relief. Enraged, foolhardy young men could fall and die with a degree of comfort. The slaughter began at Lauds, and continued in its murderous, bloody way through the hours until every Capulet was either helpless or dead save Tybalt. On Romeo's side, three of his accomplices remained upright. For honor’s sake, the three stood aside. In another half-hour of nip and tuck, Romeo at last had Tybalt in the killing pose, rapier point pressed upon his throat.

"Your prowess moves me much, Romeo," said Tybalt. "Truly, I am honored to die thus, at the hands of such remarkable skill. Let your needle sew its lethal stitch."

"In turn, I marvel at your steely cunning, Prince of Cats! Your counterparry confounded me for hours. Can we let these newfound and magnificent admirations die upon birth? I think not. I beseech you to join me as my boon companion, and the yoke of our houses be damned. What say you?"

"I say that the greatness of the moment shall have its way. I am forever bound to you. This I swear upon all that is holy." And so the two knelt together and prayed for their fallen kinsmen, while sisters from the Dominican nunnery gave aid to the survivors. Then, elbows linked, Romeo and Tybalt wearily made for the town center of Verona.

Mercutio fell to his knees and wept at the carnage. And, he wept for himself. Because he knew now what the cost of the mandrake enchantment was. He had lost his great friend to another.