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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
then set forth, and the inspiration for Romeo and Juliet, the most romantic and exalted love story ever conceived, was breathed into his frame.
The tale is conched in that very Verona of the peace-loving Bartolomeo, with its fortalices, its fountains, and its tombs ; its narrow, crooked streets ; its love and hate, frowning and playing, glooming and burning thru it all.
Whatever had started the feud between the houses of Montague and Capulet, perhaps no one knows. It may have been a step closer to the Prince's throne, a chance whisper that this one or that one was courting secret favor with Church or Emperor, a castello given to one or the other — any one of these.
From its beginning, the breach widened, until Montague or Capulet might not pass upon the street, nor meet in the Piazza dei Signori, without the accompaniment of frowns, haughty looks, and a guard of armed retainers.
With this outward smoldering of hate, within the palace* of the Capulets was being reared a young daughter, scarce fourteen years of age, upon whom her faction staked high their further hopes of advancement, and the shoving into the mire, in consequence, of the Montagues.
To the confusion of the rival house, her hand had been publicly pledged to Paris, a nephew of the Prince. For some unaccountable reason, tho — maybe a question of dower — the date of the marriage had been put off; it might be, too, that the Capulets could enjoy the more keenly the slower discomfiture of my Lord Montague.
If there was one who chafed more than another at the rising star of the Capulets, it was Romeo, the son and heir of his house. A goad he was, too, in the side of the Capulets, for no one stood higher in the Prince's favor, or could excel him in agility, grace, or the art of thrusting a rapier.
So it came about that, when the house of Capulet announced a grand " curia,' ' or celebration, in recognition of the coming alliance, Romeo resolved upon a desperate adven
ture, in keeping with his character. For he decided, upon this night of high festival and strewn roses, to disguise himself in the Capulet colors, seek out their palace, and, once within, to see what he could see.
The fates seemed to favor his foolhardy adventure, for he passed the guards stationed at the gates, and mingled with his sworn enemies. In a gallery of the palace, surrounded by portraits of her ancestors, he came upon a beautiful and innocent young girl, so exquisite that he must needs tarry under the spell of her voice and eyes. She was Juliet, the jewel of Verona, whom he had never set eyes on before.
And as he lingered, the shadow of death crept close and around him, for the merrymakers had, at last, discovered his presence.
But where a dozen daggers would have sought him out, my Lord Capu