KING DICK HAD always been clear about it: Act Four is Juliet’s. With Romeo in exile, the stage is hers. The Friar has given her the mixture she needs; now, she needs to ‘die’. This was Joe’s moment. In the thirty seconds he had before Juliet was back on stage, the King explained to Joe why Habs had run off. Joe nodded his understanding. He didn’t have time to worry. Juliet had to mourn Tybalt’s death, agree to marry Paris, then drink the mixture to fake her death.
On stage, Joe said his lines, moved, reacted and responded, but as the act played out he was aware of the King’s ever more agitated demeanour. From most places on the stage, Joe could see him: he’d watch for a few lines then turn and look at the backstage door. He would then watch for a few more lines, the worry etching deeper on to his brow. On more than one occasion Joe came close to missing his cue. Tommy, as Paris, was starting to look concerned.
Ignore the King. Just act. Habs is fine.
It was Tommy’s favourite scene. Paris gets to say he loves Juliet, announce their wedding, then leave with a ‘holy kiss’. Tommy, blushing deeply, kissed Joe on his cheek then ran from the stage. Alone now, Joe found he was delivering his words to the places where Habs might appear. These were his big scenes, Juliet’s tumultuous decisions, but his heart was elsewhere.
One final speech, Juliet’s longest. ‘Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.’ Now Joe turned to the crowd and spoke of hidden love. He felt nothing but panic and dread, but he knew the speech and did it well. When he reached for the Friar’s potion, the crowd fell silent.
‘Oh, look! Methinks I see my cousin’s ghost
Seeking out Romeo, thou did spit his body
Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt! Stay!
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo.
Here’s drink. I drink to thee.’
Joe drank its contents – water, after all – and collapsed. There was an intake of breath from some, applause from others. Joe had fallen, sprawled across a bed. The audience saw Juliet in a drug-induced sleep; the actors backstage saw Joe – eyes wide open – anxiously watching for Habs.