University of Virginia Library

FIRST TABLEAU.

Interior of King Claudius's Palace. Claudius discovered seated in a gloomy attitude. Queen Gertrude on a stool at his feet, consoling him.
Q.
Nay, be not sad, my lord!

Cl.
Sad, lovëd Queen?
If by an effort of the will I could
Annul the ever-present Past—disperse
The gaunt and gloomy ghosts of bygone deeds,
Or bind them with imperishable chains
In caverns of the past incarcerate,
Then could I smile again—but not till then!

Q.
Oh, my dear lord!
If aught there be that gives thy soul unrest,
Tell it to me.

Cl.
Well-loved and faithful wife,
Tender companion of my faltering life,
Yes; I can trust thee! Listen, then, to me:
Many years since—when but a headstrong lad—
I wrote a five-act tragedy.

Q.
(interested).
Indeed?

Cl.
A play, writ by a king—

Q.
And such a King!—

Cl.
Finds ready market. It was read at once,
But ere 'twas read, accepted. Then the Press
Teemed with porpentous import. Elsinore
Was duly placarded by willing hands;
We know that walls have ears—I gave them tongues—
And they were eloquent with promises.

Q.
Even the dead walls?

Cl.
(solemnly).
Ay, the deader they,
The louder they proclaimed!

Q.
(appalled).
Oh, marvellous!

Cl.
The day approached—all Denmark stood agape.
Arrangements were devised at once by which
Seats might be booked a twelvemonth in advance.
The first night came.

Q.
And did the play succeed?

Cl.
In one sense, yes.

Q.
Oh, I was sure of it!

Cl.
A farce was given to play the people in—
My tragedy succeeded that. That's all!

Q.
And how long did it run?

Cl.
About ten minutes.
Ere the first act had traced one-half its course
The curtain fell, never to rise again!

Q.
And did the people hiss?

Cl.
No—worse than that—
They laughed. Sick with the shame that covered me,
I knelt down, palsied, in my private box,
And prayed the hearsed and catacombëd dead
Might quit their vaults, and claim me for their own!
But it was not to be.

Q.
Oh, my good lord,
The house was surely packed!

Cl.
It was—by me.
My favourite courtiers crowded every place—
From floor to floor the house was peopled by
The sycophantic crew. My tragedy
Was more than even sycophants could stand!

Q.
Was it, my lord, so very, very bad?

Cl.
Not to deceive my trusting Queen, it was.

Q.
And when the play failed, didst thou take no steps
To set thyself right with the world?

Cl.
I did.
The acts were five—though by five acts too long,
I wrote an Act by way of epilogue—
An act by which the penalty of death
Was meted out to all who sneered at it.
The play was not good—but the punishment
Of those that laughed at it was capital.

Q.
Think on't no more, my lord. Now, mark me well:
To cheer our son, whose solitary tastes
And tendency to long soliloquy
Have much alarmed us, I, unknown to thee,
Have sent for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern—
Two merry knaves, kin to Polonius,
Who will devise such revels in our Court—
Such antic schemes of harmless merriment—
As shall abstract his meditative mind
From sad employment. Claudius, who can tell
But that they may divert my lord as well?
Ah, they are here!

Enter Guildenstern.
Guild.
My homage to the Queen!

Enter Rosencrantz.
Ros.
(kneeling).
In hot obedience to the Royal 'hest
We have arrived, prepared to do our best.

Q.
We welcome you to Court. Our Chamberlain
Shall see that you are suitably disposed.
Here is his daughter. She will hear your will
And see that it receives fair countenance.

[Exeunt King and Queen, lovingly.
Enter Ophelia.
Ros.
Ophelia!

[Both embrace her.
Oph.
(delighted and surprised).
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
This meeting likes me much. We have not met
Since we were babies!

Ros.
The Queen hath summoned us,
And I have come in a half-hearted hope
That I may claim once more my baby-love!

Oph.
Alas, I am betrothed!

Ros.
Betrothed? To whom?

Oph.
To Hamlet!

Ros.
Oh, incomprehensible!
Thou lovest Hamlet?

Oph.
(demurely).
Nay, I said not so—
I said we were betrothed.

Guild.
And what's he like?

Oph.
Alike for no two seasons at a time.
Sometimes he's tall—sometimes he's very short—
Now with black hair—now with a flaxen wig—
Sometimes an English accent—then a French—
Then English with a strong provincial “burr.”
Once an American, and once a Jew—
But Danish never, take him how you will!
And strange to say, whate'er his tongue may be,
Whether he's dark or flaxen—English—French—
Though we're in Denmark, A.D., ten—six—two—
He always dresses as King James the First!

Guild.
Oh, he is surely mad!

Oph.
Well, there again
Opinion is divided. Some men hold
That he's the sanest, far, of all sane men—
Some that he's really sane, but shamming mad—
Some that he's really mad, but shamming sane—
Some that he will be mad, some that he was—
Some that he couldn't be. But on the whole
(As far as I can make out what they mean)
The favourite theory's somewhat like this:
Hamlet is idiotically sane
With lucid intervals of lunacy.

Ros.
We must devise some plan to stop this match!

Guild.
Stay! Many years ago, King Claudius
Was guilty of a five-act tragedy.
The play was damned, and none may mention it
Under the pain of death. We might contrive
To make him play this piece before the King,
And take the consequence.

Ros.
Impossible!
For every copy was destroyed.

Oph.
But one—
My father's!

Ros.
Eh?

Oph.
In his capacity
As our Lord Chamberlain he has one copy. I
This night, when all the Court is drowned in sleep,
Will creep with stealthy foot into his den
And there abstract the precious manuscript!

Guild.
The plan is well conceived! but take good heed,
Your father may detect you.

Oph.
Oh, dear, no.
My father spends his long official days
In reading all the rubbishing new plays.
From ten to four at work he may be found:
And then—my father sleeps exceeding sound!

[Picture. Ophelia, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, grouped.