The Children of an Idle Brain

"Speak less than thou knowest... learn more than thou trowest."

April 19th

(See comments for the text)

"Benedick?"

"I'm in here, Bea." Benedick folded the page of his late mother's journal and hid it.

"Did you strike your fencing master this morning?"

Benedick scowled. "He insulted me." 

"Well, I say he deserved it. I saw your last match."

Though he knew his twin's insult had two heads, he let it pass. Beatrice had a sharp mind and a serpent's tongue, and it did no good for her brother's pride to lose every battle to a girl. "Is Father angry?"

"I'm sure he's proud and pleased. After all, he also saw your last match. I thought I heard him say something about asking grandfather about the man he hired for Romeo after Master Gargrave died." 

Benedick sighed at the name. Gargrave had been the best fencing master in Verona, said to be responsible for the scars on the faces of three generations. Fencing masters were traditionally hired to elevate a young nobleman's swordsman ship from the practical combat taught by a master-at-arms to a sort of martial poetry. In the case of Gargrave, the poet was a brute who glorified bloodshed. He had also been a pragmatic man, who offered his skills to whoever the highest bidders might be. Those skills forced even the most quarrelsome families to tolerate his independence -- until someone didn't. Six years earlier, Gargrave had been impaled on a fence belonging to a young man who had never been heard from again. Benedick firmly believed that missing out on the late master's tutelage was the reason for his slow progress as swordsman. I would be as good as-

An impatient squeal from his sister snapped Benedick back to reality. "What did you say?"

"Do you think I would like fencing, brother?"

"What? Girls can't fence!" Benedick laughed. "It's a man's sport."

"But a girl might be able to, if someone would teach her. I think Aunt Bianca could fence better than any man in the family if she was allowed." Beatrice smiled as she thought of her aunt brandishing a sword. "And once I'm married, I know I won't be able to, but why not now, while I'm waiting? I already know how to do everything else."

"That's what you're doing with yourself? Just waiting to be married?"

"Oh, yes." Beatrice sighed in contentment. "I'm not sure to whom, but I will absolutely be married by next year."

"That's silly, Bea. How can you know you'll be married if you don't even know the man?"

"What does it matter? It will be arranged somehow. Aunt Bianca is still working on the Darcys. That would be a very good match, because he is rich and not old. Though, I do think his uncle is much more handsome -- and he does have a title."

"The drunk?"

"All men drink, Benedick. Just look at Father. Anyway, I told my aunt what I thought about the captain. She wasn't very impressed by him, but she can't have just one plan. I'll have to see how it works out." Beatrice spoke with a calm detachment that didn't quite properly belong to a girl discussing the rest of her life.

Benedick didn't like anything his sister said, especially about Captain Fitzwilliam, but he remained silent. No words of his had ever changed Beatrice's opinion of anything. The best thing he could do for his sister's reputation was to leave it in the hands of their aunt, who was the only person Beatrice consistently obeyed.

A servant entered the drawing room. "Lord Benedick, your father has asked to see you."

Benedick grimaced at his sister and dismissed the servant. "This doesn't sound good."

"Oh, don't be such a child, Benedick! You'll never be any good with a sword if you keep being so spineless."

"Thanks, Bea." He rolled his eyes as he walked away, but he stopped short of the door. "You're certain he wasn't angry?"

"Not certain," she answered in a voice she had learned from her aunt. "I didn't ask him about it outright."

"Of course not." Benedick puffed out his chest and headed straight for the kitchen. The cook would have just the thing to fortify him for this trip into the lion's den.

"Lady Beatrice Darcy..."

While Beatrice weighed her options, Bianca was pressing them on the girl's father. "You cannot keep her at home forever. She is a lively girl."

"Perhaps too lively to be a wife yet."

"Brother, marrying Beatrice to the Darcy boy would be an excellent accomplishment for our family."

Antonio knew well the politics of the potential match. He and his father had discussed it thoroughly when they first heard Lady Montague and Bianca chattering. Darcy had no title, but his wealth and connection to the Fitzwilliam family could not be understated. Securing him for Beatrice was the best way to add the House of Montague to the Fitzwilliam-Nowell alliance (created by the marriage of Lord Fitzwilliam to Lord Nowell's only daughter). It would make the Capulets outsiders, perhaps for the first time ever. 

Still, marrying off his only daughter didn't sit well with Antonio. He was able to see his late wife alive in Beatrice. While he had been the one to find his wife's broken body that morning six years ago, he had never completely accepted that Hero was lost forever. The thought of Hero's lingering existence was all that had kept him sane when his father had declared he believed the Capulets were not responsible and agreed to the truce. Marrying off his only breathing reminder of Hero seemed like a terrible surrender. "Beatrice is just sixteen, after all," he mused aloud.

"Just a year younger than that Capulet slut, Antonio. Look what happened-"

"My daughter-"

"Is infatuated with an inconsequential Captain of the Guard because he said a few pretty things to her at a party! When girls grow into young ladies, it is time for them to marry, before they endanger themselves." Bianca's concern was sincere. Cross as she was at Beatrice for having such poor judgment in the worth of a man, she was more worried that the girl's willful ignorance could compromise her. After her fiancé's death, Bianca's own poor judgment had delivered a fatal blow to her future. Maiden aunt was her lot in life, but it had not been her first ambition. "Darcy is a good sort of man. He will take proper care of her."

"But does he have any regard for her? And what does my daughter say about this prospect?"

"These things take time to arrange. It will all go more smoothly if you give me your support."

"Support to consider the possibility," Antonio decided, "The final judgment is still mine. My daughter will do her duty to our family, but I won't treat her like breeding stock at an auction. Her mother would want her to be happy."

"Naturally."

The subject seemed to drop; Antonio was relieved. "Now, where is my son? We need to see my father tonight about a fencing master."

Bianca sent a servant to find Benedick. "Perhaps you could also mention our living situation to my father?"

"There is nothing wrong with our situation, Bianca." Illyria Park had been given to Hero on the occasion of her marriage. Antonio fondly remembered Hero brushing off anyone who told her that a nine-months expectant mother ought to be resting rather than redecorating. He always thought she did a fine job of it, too, regardless of the lovely carpet ruined when her labor began quite suddenly in the library.

"Of course not," Bianca replied sweetly, "but we cannot say the house is part of Beatrice's dowry if we are still living in it."

Author's note: I managed to wreck my game right after my last post, so I apologize for whatever doesn't quite match with previous posts. Most everything was saved (the Capulets and Darcys may need new homes, however...), but I'm tweaking things as I restore them since I have to do the work anyway.

Next Post: “Reputation is an idle and most false imposition."