Malec Modern Romeo & Juliet

Chapter 12 Act 2 Scene 4

Raphael and Ragnor enter.

Ragnor
Where the devil can Magnus be? Didn't he come home last night?

Raphael
Not to his father's house. I asked a servant.

Ragnor
That fair-skinned, hard-hearted hussy, Camille is going to torment him until he goes insane.

Raphael
Jace, old Lightwood's son, has sent a letter to Magnus's father's house.

Ragnor
I bet it's a challenge.

Raphael
Magnus will answer the challenge.

Ragnor
Any man who knows how to write can answer a letter.

Raphael
No, Magnus will respond to the letter's writer, telling him whether he accepts the challenge.

Ragnor
Oh, poor Magnus! He's already dead. He's been stabbed by a white girl's black eye. He's been cut through the ear with a love song. The centre of his heart has been split by blind Cupid's arrow. Is he man enough at this point to face off with Jace?

Raphael
Why, what's Jace's story?

Ragnor
He's tougher than the Prince of Cats. He does everything by the book. He fights like you sing at a recital, paying attention to time, distance, and proportion. He takes the proper breaks: one, two, and the third in your heart. He's the butcher who can hit any silk button. A master of duels. He's a gentleman from the finest school of fencing. He knows how to turn any argument into a swordfight. He knows passado-the forward thrust-the punto reverso-the backhand thrust-and the hai-the thrust that goes straight through.

Raphael
He knows what?

Ragnor
I hate these crazy, affected guys who use foreign phrases and new-fangled expressions. I hate their strange manners and their weird accents! I hate it when they say, "By Jesus, this is a very good blade, a very brave man, a very good whore." Isn't this a sad thing, my good man? Why should we put up with these foreign buzzards, these fashionmongers, these guys who say, "pardon me," these guys who care so much about manners that they can't kick back on a bench without whining? "Oh, my aching bones!"

Magnus enters.

Raphael
Here comes Magnus, here comes Magnus!

Ragnor
He looks skinny, like a dried herring without its eggs, and he hasn't got his girl. O flesh, flesh, you've turned pale and weak like a fish. Now he's ready for Petrarch's poetry. Compared to Magnus's girl, Laura was a kitchen slave. Surely, she has a better love to make rhymes for her. Dido was shabbily dressed. Cleopatra was a gypsy girl. Helen and Hero were sluts and harlots. Thisbe might have had a blue eye or two, but that doesn't matter. Signor Magnus, bonjour. There's a French greeting that matches your drooping French-style pants. You faked us out pretty good last night.

Magnus
Good morning to you both. What do you mean I faked you out?

Ragnor
You gave us the slip, sir, the slip. Can't you understand what I'm saying?

Magnus
Excuse me, good Ragnor. I had very important business to take care of. It was so important that I had to forget about courtesy and good manners.

Ragnor
In other words, "important business" made you flex your buttocks. (Ragnor implies Magnus business was sexual)

Magus
You mean do a curtsy?

Ragnor
You've hit the target, sir.

Magnus
That's a very polite and courteous explanation.