Benvolio is a significant character in the first half of the drama. Until he is last seen in 3.

1, when, with both Mercutio and Tybalt slain, the tragic ending is irrevocably sealed, he has actively played the role of Romeo's boon companion, in turn comforting, leasing, and counselling him. Through Benvolio the audience learns a great deal about Romeo, just as through the garrulous nurse it learns a great deal about Juliet. But in addition to this capacity, Benvolio also functions as an eyewitness through whom the other characters on stage learn about the two brawls. In the acted-out scenes, Benvolio, true to his name, is sincere and well-meaning; twice, he tries to break up the street fight or to prevent it from happening. Each time he fails, and each time he is called upon, after the fight, to give an eyewitness account of what transpired. Since both scenes are first performed on stage, the audience can compare Benvolio's reports with what it has witnessed. Anthony Brennan, in his Onstage and Offstage Worlds in Shakespeare's Plays, a most extensive and thorough treatment of the subject of reporting (among other things), claims that Benvolio, having established himself as "a reliable reporter" in recounting the first scene, "supplies a tight and almost completely accurate precis of a complex sequence of events" in recounting the second (212, emphasis mine). Yet the logic of his argument in this particular instance seems to me flawed and he appears to be curiously lenient with--if not exactly partial to--Benvolio. Brennan reports: Benolio does not get the order of events quite right. . . . He does, nevertheless, include all the pertinent facts. The audience can recognize that Benvolio's account is remarkably free of rancour and bias. It is true he edits out much of the build-up to the fighting before Romeo entered. He says little of Mercutio's touchiness and the fact that, spoiling for a fight to defend his injured honour, it was the Prince's kinsman who drew first. His version of the events puts a good deal of the blame on Tybalt, but the audience can hardly believe that to be bias. . . . (212) In my report that follows, I hope to demonstrate that the gap between the dramatized and the narrated versions shows Benvolio, despite his good will, as not exempt from personal pride and prejudice. While his first report affects the audience's perception of him, his second bears important implication for the development of the play. The first instance occurs in the opening scene. Sampson and Gregory, two servants of the house of Capulet, succeed in provoking Abram and Balthasar of the house of Montague to fight. Soon Benvolio, kinsman to Romeo, and Tybalt, cousin to Juliet, find themselves involved. Here is part of the scene as it is acted out: Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow. They fight. Ben. Part, fools, put up your swords, you know not what you do. Enter Tybalt. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. Ben. I do but keep the peace, put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me. Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward. (1.1.59-69)

After Tybalt's speech just quoted, the stage direction says "[They] fight." And into the fight more and more citizens are drawn, until it is finally stopped by the Prince, who summons both Capulet and Montague "To know [his] farther pleasure in this case" and orders all the rest to disperse "on pain of death" (99, 101). When the Prince has departed, Montague asks Benvolio, Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? (102-3) and Benvolio offers this report in answer: Here were the servants of your adversary And yours, close fighting ere I did approach. I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears He swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn. While we were interchanging thrusts and blows Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the Prince came, who parted either part. (104-13) If Benvolio were to give a straightforward answer, the first two lines in the quote should suffice. Instead, he takes the opportunity of enhancing his image of a swaggering swordsman by vividly describing how he exchanged blows with the "fiery Tybalt": "He [Tybalt] swung [his sword] about his head and cut the winds, / who nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn." Perhaps because he is telling it to his kinsmen, and in private, he sounds not only relaxed but exuberant. The nimble play on words shows the speaker's relish of the incident: "While we were interchanging thrusts and blows / Came more and more, and fought on part and part, / Till the Prince came, who parted either part." The rhetorical balance in the speech seems to suggest the two parties' equal strength in the close contest where thrusts are exchanged for blows. Thus, neglecting Montague's question about who started the fight, Benvolio dwells on the actual fighting--how it was fought--with occasional glances at his own bravura. Yet, if somewhat vainglorious and self-aggrandizing, in the report he has displayed a remarkable degree of fair-mindedness. Though he fails to mention Tybalt's displeasure at the sight of his drawn sword, the description of the brawl is unprejudiced. As far as Montague's question is concerned, Benvolio has no real answer--and he gives none. After all, it is not the Prince's inquisition, and he can afford to be impartial. *** There is a dramatic change in the next instance, in 3.1, concerning the second brawl that results in the deaths of both Mercutio and Tybalt. Arriving at the bloody scene, the Prince demands: Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

(143) By now Romeo, "fortune's fool," has fled, and Benvolio comes forward to offer himself as an eyewitness: 0 noble Prince, I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl. There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman brave Mercutio. (144-47) Considering the circumstances under which he speaks, Benvolio displays truly remarkable poise and great cunning in the speech. We notice, in the first place, that the four lines are evenly divided into two rhyming couplets. Furthermore, keeping in mind the Prince's question, we cannot but notice that Benvolio's answer is a skillful piece of equivocation. His second couplet begins with "There lies the man," which matches perfectly the question "Where are the vile beginners . . .?" Perhaps intuitively, the Prince has supposed more than one "vile beginner" of the fray; with deviousness, Benvolio suggests Tybalt--without even mentioning his name!--as the only true offender, which, as we shall see, is a falsehood. But then he can plead innocent, for the structure of the sentence suggests an alternative reading. Instead of answering the Prince, Benvolio volunteers to offer other, unsought information: he is identifying "the man . . . / That slew your kinsman brave Mercutio." As far as the Prince is concerned, his one question has drawn two answers--that Tybalt began the fray, and that Tybalt killed his kinsman. Both are deadly attestations against Tybalt.

To the paying audience that has witnessed the bloodshed, Benvolio's reply, though inaccurate, may give the initial impression of truthfulness because in the same breath it has mentioneed all the three important persons involved--Tybalt, referred to as "the man," Romeo, and the "brave" Mercutio, "thy [the Prince's] kinsman." Notice, however, that the adjective clause depicts the death of Mercutio at the hand of Tybalt and calls attention to the kinship between "brave" Mercutio and the Prince, which is a piece of new information (Porter 116) even for the theater audience. The bloody deed of Romeo, though not concealed, crops up as a relatively minor incident, being inserted in the form of a participial phrase. As a matter of fact, this additional piece of information, rather than condemning Romeo, tries to raise him up in the eyes of the Prince because he has avenged Mercutio, the Prince's kinsman. The bond between Romeo and Mercutio is further suggested by the rhyme their names share. The two lines also establish the sequence of the brawl: Tybalt kills Mercutio, and then Romeo kills Tybalt. Benvolio's carefully constructed summary infuriates Lady Capulet immediately, who bursts out with a series of apostrophes: Tybalt, my cousin, 0 my brother's child! 0 Prince, 0 husband, 0, the blood is spili'd Of my dear kinsman. . . . (148-50)

Both Benvolio and Lady Capulet draw attention to kinship, but the contrast cannot be greater. Benvolio, in an effort to exonerate Romeo, does it with craft. Charged with emotion, Lady Capulet's wailing succeeds, it seems to me, only in planting the notion of kinship even firmer in the Prince's head. And that notion, as we shall see, is an improtant factor in his judgment of the case. When, unsatisfied with the information received so far, the Prince presses for more, Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Benvolio begins a rather detailed reply by first pointing his finger, once again, at Tybalt: Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay. (153-54) Notice, first of all, that this time the Prince specifically calls on Benvolio to give a report: the latter has won the confidence of the former. Notice, too, that the Prince has modified his question: instead of asking "Where are the vile beginners," the wording now is "who began this bloody fray?" The shift in emphasis is clear. The modification suggests that the Prince is no longer concerned with the whereabouts of the responsible--for there he lies on the ground, dead (and still unnamed). In other words, the Prince is ready to accept the theories--implied in Benvolio's previous answer--that there is only one culprit and that, also based on the sequence of events established by Benvolio a moment ago, the one culprit is Tybalt. The Prince asks the second question only to obtain confirmation. Again, Benvolio in his answer mentions both Tybalt and Romeo, thus giving the semblance of impartiality. The real answer, however--especially as far as the Prince is concerned--is the simple and straightforward "Tybalt," for the rest of the line consists of nothing but modifiers. If Benvolio equivocates in his first answer, he begins his second by telling a downright lie. Moreover, the falsehood gains forcefulness and an air of finality because of the resolute rhyme: Benvolio's "slay" strongly echoes the Prince's "fray." Perhaps encouraged by the success of his first answer, Benvolio, with great subtlety and slyness, suggests that it was Romeo's slaying of Tybalt that finally put an end to the fray. Having thus attempted to establish Tybalt as the culprit in the fatal incident, Benvolio continues with his narration in which he keeps silent about Mercutio's irrationalities, does his best to exalt Romeo by dwelling on the latter's noble peace-keeping effort, and paints Tybalt as being insensitive and malignant, utterly implacable in his enmity toward Mercutio: Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal Your high displeasure. All this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity Retorts it. Romeo, he cries aloud

"Hold, friends! Friends part!" and swifter than his tongue His agile arm beats down their fatal points And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio; and then Tybalt fled, But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to't they go like lightning: for, ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain, And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. (155-77) Throughout the report, Benvolio emphatically puts the blame on Tybalt, characterizing him as a man of "unruly spleen," "deaf to peace," whose "envious thrust . . . hit the life of stout Mercutio." His description of Romeo's meekness in face of Tybalt, however, has the appearance of truth. After all, when Tybalt calls him "Boy" and demands that he "turn and draw," Remeo, who has just secretly contracted marriage with Juliet--"the marriage which," as Harley Granville-Barker reminds us, "is to turn these households' rancour to pure love" (309)--answers with what Mercutio is immediately to denounce as "calm, dishonourable, vile submission": I do protest I never injuried thee, But love thee better than thou canst devise Till thou shalt know the reason of my love. And so, good Capulet, which name I tender As dearly as mine own, be satisfied. (67-71) Romeo also entreats both Tybalt and Mercutio to "forbear this outrage," reminding them that "The Prince expressly hath / Forbid this bandying in Verona Streets" (86-89). Still, Benvolio's testimony is seriously flawed. In the acted-out scene, it is Mercutio who has, even before the arrival of Romeo, been taunting and daring Tybalt, while Tybalt, almost uncharacteristically, displays remarkable self-control. The next quote clearly gives the lie to Benvolio's testimony: Enter Tybalt, Petruchio and Others. Ben. By my head, here comes the Capulets. Mer. By my heel, I care not. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good e'en: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something, make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, and you will give me occasion. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo. Mer. Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? And thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick, here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort! (35-48) Before he is further provoked, Tybalt sights Romeo and immediately takes leave of Mercutio: "Well, peace be with you, sir, here comes my man" (55). It is quite obvious that Tybalt has approached Mercutio and Benvolio in order to inquire about Romeo, but the phrase "my man," like all other words Tybalt utters that fatal afternoon, is at once deliberately misconstrued by Mercutio: But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower. Your worship in that sense may call him "man" (56-58) Tybalt, however, remains unruffled; he turns to Romeo and tells him to his face, plainly: "thou art a villain" (60). One wonders how confounded Tybalt must be when he hears Romeo's "calm, dishonourable, vile submission" quoted earlier, but surely Romeo has given him no cause to start an ugly scene. And even when the incredulous Mercutio indignantly cries "Alla stoccata carries it away!" and challenges, "Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?" (73-74), Tybalt, still keeping his cool, simply asks: "What wouldst thou have with me"(75)? It has been observed that "Shakespeare is careful to show us the 'frantic madman' [Romeo] behaving with exemplary composure and forbearance, though insulted by a quarrelsome bully in the presence of his friends" (Alexander 115). Yet that same quarrelsome bully Tybalt, who in the previous scenes did bear himself like Wrath personified (Harbage 141), is, to say the least, restrained in his encounter with Mercutio, who on that particular afternoon is no less a bully, and much more quarrelsome. Granville-Barker thinks Mercutio "fights without malice, not in anger even, and for no advantage" (337); only the last observation is true, however. Tybalt is aiming at something else, of course, his venom entirely directed toward Romeo. We recall that, at the "ancient feast" of the Capulets, Tybalt was forced by his uncle to "endure" the "shame" of Romeo's presence and to refrain from making a scene right there and then. Before he beat a retreat against his will, however, he promised revenge: Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall. (1.5.88-91) It is therefore understandable that Tybalt would want to seek Romeo out--and none but Romeo. He chooses to ignore Mercutio because only by humiliating Romeo can he get his sweet revenge. Besides, it is likely that he knows Mercutio's relation to the Prince. Benvolio, in his account of the event, would have the Prince believe that Romeo arrived at a time when Tybalt was provoking Mercutio to fight, that Romeo tried his best to part the two, and

that the failure of Romeo's peacekeeping endeavor can only be attributed to the implacability of the malicious Tybalt. "Benvolio," as Brian Gibbons observes in a note in his Arden edition of the play, "suppresses the fact that Mercutio provoked Tybalt" (166). Joseph A. Porter, too, takes notice of the fact that Benvolio (whom he aptly terms "the chronic reporter") "recounts these events with some elaborations and discrepancies" (113). That is bad enough in an eyewitness' testimony. The flaw of Benvolio's narration, as the above discussion shows, goes well beyond the suppression of evidence: it includes fabrication. By making Tybalt seem the provoker instead of the provoked that he really is, Benvolio commits sins of addition as well as of omission. One crucial point of his report comes in line 160, where Benvolio, having described Romeo as a peace-maker, joins up unconnected events, thereby giving a falsehood that is most seriously damaging to Tybalt: . . . All this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point ............................ (157-62) By slyly introducing the non-truth that begins with "but that," Benvolio paints Tybalt as a demon bent on killing Mercutio--and thatnot only despite Romeo's earnest plea for peace, but even whilst his knees are "humbly bow'd" in the act of begging. From the speeches in the fighting scene, quoted above, it is clear that Mercutio draws first--most likely as he says "Here's my fiddlestick, here's that shall make you dance" (Utterback)/ According to the sequence in the report, Tybalt begins the fray; though "all as hot," Mercutio "turns deadlypoint to point" (163) merely as a reaction to the provocation--in self-defence, so to speak The order has been reversed. Since the stage direction specifically tells us, "Tybalt under Romeo's arm thrust Mercutio in," it has been argued that Tybalt did not play fair and square (Utterback III). But then the lines immediately preceding that piece of stage direction is Romeo's shout: Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage. Tybalt, Mercutio! The Prince expressly hath Forbid this bandying in Verona streets. Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio! (85-89) Romeo's call for peace was addressed as much to "good" Mercutio as to Tybal. And with the brawl getting out of hand, Tybalt had as much chance of being stabbed by Mercutio "under Romeo's arm." Benvolio's charges against Tybalt, both explicit and implicit, are sheer fabrications. Next, in his report of the duel between Romeo and Tybalt, Benvolio also shows a sleight of hand. In the fighting scene, when Benvolio prompts him by saying "Here comes the furious Tybalt

back again," Romeo can hold himself in no more. Throwing away "respective lenity" and asking "fireey'd fury" to guide him instead (125-26), he calls out: Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again That late thou gav'st me, for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company. Either thou, or I, or both must go with him. (127-31) The words show that Romeo is determined not to be appeased by anything but Tybalt's death. Apparently an apology is no longer enough to assuage Romeo's wrath now (not, of course, that Tybalt is the sort that would be compelled to eat his words): he demands that Tybalt both take the insult back and fight with him until at least one of them is dead--"Either thou, or I, or both must go with him." For all intents and purposes, he has issued a challenge, which Tybalt accepts with all his heart. In the report, Benvolio says, But by and by [Tybalt] comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to't they go like lightning: (172-74) The third line in the quote is again crucial: it has suppressed all the evidence that might be held against Romeo or in defence of Tybalt. Benvolio closes his testimony by claiming, "This is the truth, or let Benvolio die." Nothing could be further from the truth. As Lady Capulet instinctively suspects, He is a kinsman to the Montague. Affection makes him false. He speaks not true (3.1.178-79) Brennan believes that here "Lady Capulet projects her own sense of bias" (213). Moreover, he observes, "The fact that she is wrong . . . underlines our privileged immunity as audience, differentiating our perception from that of the characters . . ." (213). Yet nobodyneither Lady Capulet nor Benvolio, neither the audience nor the characterscan be immune from bias. Benvolio's tactic works, primarily because he has shifted the blame from Mercutio to Tybalt; by choosing not to embarrass the Prince, who is Mercutio's kinsman and the one person there whose opinion matters, he stands a better chance of having his testimony accepted. When Lady Capulet argues, "Romeo slew Tybalt. Romeo must not live," the Prince is reluctant to sentence Romeo, who has taken Mercutio's side, to death. His reply) consisting of a restatement and a question, shows he is more grieved with the death of his kinsman: Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio. Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? (184-85)

His great concern at the moment is Mercutio's "dear blood," where dear means either "loved, honourable," or "costly, precious" (Evans 129). Kinship significantly adds to the Prince's stake in the brawl. Montague, who has remained silent up to this point, seems to see a ray of hope at last. He finds his voice for the first time, and hastens to emphasize the relationship between his own son and the Prince's kinsman, thereby justifying Romeo's hand in the fray: Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend; His fault concludes but what the law should end, The life of Tybalt. Thereupon the Prince arrives at a decision and pronounces his sentence without further ado: And for that offence Immediately we do exile him hence. (186-89) The "immediate" sentencing by the Prince follows closely Montague's pleading; the half line begun by the latter is completed by the former. G. Blakemore Evans observes that "The Prince turns Montague's defence back on him" (129); the fact is, thanks to Benvolio's perjury, the Prince and the Montagues join hands, leaving the Capulets, Tybalt included, out in the cold. There should be no 'doubt that justice has been tampered with; the Prince, out of his love for Mercutio, bends the law and sentences Romeo not to death but to banishment. Even Friar Laurence, Romeo's mentor and closest ally, realizes that his "pupil" has gotten away lightly. That is why when Romeo, upon learning "the Prince's doom" (3.3.4), flies into tantrums and cannot control himself, Friar Laurence specifically admonishes him to count his blessings, not the least of which is the Prince's leniency: The law that threateu'd death becomes thy friend And turns it into exile. There art thou happy. (3.3.138-39) It is the Friar's severe chastising (what the Nurse, somewhat comically, calls "good counsel" and "learning"), as well as his plan to have the newlyweds consummate their marriage before sending the bridegroom to Mantua, that brings the stubborn Romeo around to accept reality. In Arthur Brooke's The Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Juliet (1562), the principal source of Shakespeare's play, the Prince also banishes Romeus. When the brawl ends with "Tibalts overthrowe," The Montagewes do pleade, theyr Romeus voyde of falt, The lookers on do say, the fight begonne was by Tybalt, The prince doth pawse, and then geves sentence in a while, That Romeus, for sleying him should goe into exyle. His foes would have him hangde, or sterve in prison strong, His frendes do think (but dare not say) that Romeus hath wrong. (Brooke 1043-48)

But the circumstances in the two versions are markedly different. The deliberation of the Prince here, who "doth pawse, and then geves sentence in a while," contrasts strikingly with the swiftness with which the Prince in Shakespeare's play hands down his decision. Romeus's friends can be rightly unhappy about the heavy punishment meted out to him; for, as Gibbons summarizes, "in Brooke two bands from the opposed families meet (11. 961-1036), Tybalt urges his men on to fight; Romeo, walking with his friends, hears the riot, runs to it, and cries 'part frendes, heipe frendes to part the fray' whereupon Tybalt attacks him ferociously" (166). There, Tybalt is indeed the culprit. Our discussion above demonstrates that the same cannot be said of the Tybalt--or Romeo--in Shakespeare's play. Besides, there is the role of Mercutio, who, as has been pointed out, is absent from Brooke's version (Gibbons 166). Yet, commenting on this scene, Alfred Harbage seems to suggest that Romeo has received a punishment more severe than he actually deserves: Benvolio describes the whole episode; and although the Prince recognizes that it was Tybalt who slew his kinsman Mercutio and instigated the fight, he holds the Montague-Capulet feud as ultimately responsible and banishes Romeo from Verona on pain of death. (152-53; emphasis mine) D. A. Traversi believes that "the sentence of banishment upon the latest murderer" is pronounced "in stern justice" (118). Critical blunders such as these simply prove the art of Benvolio's reporting. On the other hand, Tybalt is not helped by his earlier image as a blood-thirsty trouble-maker, which gives the paying audience a likely excuse--if indeed such an excuse is needed--to go along with Benvolio's testimony and, consequently, to acquiesce in the Prince's sentence. Earlier we examined how Benvolio, in his jaundiced testimony, emphasizes the familial tie so as to sway the Prince. The eyewitness' strategy works thanks to his manner of speaking too. Stylistically, the testimony contains a number of elements that make it sound spontaneous and unpremeditated. In the beginning, where Benvolio speaks with calm and composure, all the verbs are in the past tense, and the syntax is standard and smooth (154-59). With the introduction of prevaricating evidence and the description of the fight between Mercutio and Tybalt as well as Romeo's intervention, the verb tense, all of a sudden, is shifted to the present (160-69); at the same time, the syntax becomes garbled, the grammer confusing. Consider, for example, the underlined portions in the pasage: His agile arm beats down their fatal points And 'twixt them rushes', underneath whose arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio. . . . (168-71) The subject of the verb rushes should be Romeo rather than His agile arm, the antecedent of the relative pronoun whose is missing. In the last part of Benvolio's report, the verb tense shifts freely from the present to the past and vice versa (170-76). All this contributes to a tone of agitation and excitement. To be sure, it justly reflects the excited and agitated state of the speaker. What is pertinent to our discussion here is that it also helps deflect suspicion. I have dwelled on the reportage of Benvolio because of the significance it assumes in this play and in Shakespeare's dramaturgy: Benvolio's art is Shakespeare's art. As Gibbons reminds us, "Mercutio is not present [at the brawl] in Brooke's version, and Benvolio is not named" (166): this part is Shakespeare's invention (Utterback 107, 108). By including Benvolio and making him bear

false witness, Shakespeare underscores the role of the family and how it interferes with the regulatory or judicial system. By making Mercutio a participant in the bloodshed and an important factor in the Prince's judgment, Shakespeare both reiterates the strength of familial ties and illustrates the irrational character of the quarrel--Mercutio is the Prince's kinsman but unrelated in blood to either Montague or Capulet. He dies cursing the two houses; yet as has been pointed out, he is "the catalytic agent in the situation culminating in Romeo's killing of Tybalt" (Utterback 108). His mad intrusion into the senseless quarrel proves fatal not only to himself but to Romeo and Juliet, rendering the two houses heirless. The ancient feud between the two families has far-reaching repercussions. Besides the lovers, at least four other persons forfeit their lives for the "melodrama" (Oz 142), not to mention its general disturbance of "the quiet of our streets" (1.1.89) each time the feud flares up. As the Prince is to admit near the close of the play: And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish'd (5.3.293-94) "All are punish'd." Shakespeare has transcended the tragedy from the level of the individual or family to that of the society as a whole. And it is in that sense that Friar Laurence's rather lengthy recapitulation at the end (5.3.228-68) is pointedly pertinent. For although in it there is "nothing that the [theater] audience does not already know" (Spencer 36), it is by no means a piece of tedium or redundancy. Gibbons stresses the impact of the Friar's revelation "on the parents, the Prince and the populace," an impact with "such cumulative effect that the Prince himself, in pronouncing judgement, includes his own name among the guilty, and in that confession prepares the way for full reconciliation" (76). Now that the city has awakened to the fact, there is reason to believe that the "poor sacrifices" (5.3.303) of Romeo and Juliet will put an end to the enmity.

All is not lost, then, for Verona. That is perhaps why the Prince, realizing that "never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo" (5.3.308-9), nevertheless urges the dispersing audience--both those on stage and those watching the play, one presumes--to "report" the story, as it were: Go hence to have more talk of these sad things (5.3.306) The ominous warning heard in the Prologue, that this pair of "star-cross'd lovers . . . / Doth with their death bury their parents' strife" (6-8), now holds positive, welcome meaning. *** One unhappy soul, at least, must remain unreconciled. Mercutio provoked Tybalt; Tybalt killed Mercutio in self-defence; Romeo, guided by "fire-ey'd fury" and determined to avenge his friend, challenged Tybalt and slew him. That is basically how the crucial brawl went. Benvolio, who survived

the brawl, gives a different, falsified version: the unappeasable Tybalt, not Mercutio, started the furious fray; Tybalt killed Mercutio; Tybalt came back, and "to't [he and Romeo] go like lightning"; Romeo avenged Mercutio by slaying Tybalt. It would appear that, lacking a reliable advocate--such as Friar Laurence (or Horatio in Hamlet)--to report him aright, Tybalt in the play leaves behind him "a wounded name" (Hamlet, 5.2.349-50). Were it not for the acted-out scene, this youth noted for his "unruly spleen" would surely be remembered by posterity in their "report" (when they "talk of these sad things") as the one responsible for the bloodshed, which seals the tragic fate of the lovers.

"This is the truth, or let Benvolio die"--these are Benvolio's very last words in the play; after the utterance of falsehood in the witness stand, he is not seen or heard of again, not even in the last scene of reconciliation. His conspicuous absence there--especially when we consider the importance of his role to the tragic event and how closely he was to Romeo--seems to indicate a curious piece of "dramatic" justice on the part of the playwright.