Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 1 Scene 3 Sub Scene 1

 Act One Scene Three

Sub Scene One

Brotherly love

Laertes not formally introduced was a fine specimen of manhood, designed with wide shoulders and towering height. He was trained in the art of playwright as a writer and producer with a dabble in directing actors. His fame was as wide as Hamlet but they never clashed in the areas of performance. He remained an icon of the society pages in contrast to Hamlet who was a recluse. Laertes was splashed across the headlines with the who’s who of the plays, and course the sordid tabloids of his numerous scandals.

Laertes was cushioned from the scandals by his father's influence, the Great Chamberlain who also cover the interest of the Hamlets’. He was back in Denmark at the request of his father to attend both the funeral and coronation there.

“A death and another union? I thought my scandals were more pleasing to read than that.” Laertes dressed smartly in the pin-striped suit was trying to latch his suitcase for his departure from the castle. He was in the assigned chamber at the castle and was seen on his departure by his only sister, Ophelia.

The latter had bloomed into adulthood, with her face hardly seen in the news, except for charitable events. She was the patron of several organizations for children's welfare. She was with the trust created by her father, and the immense funds were sufficient to give her enough support for her lifestyle.

“I wished you could stay on. I will be left alone here.” Ophelia dressed in the simple yellow chiffon knee-length style and matching flat shoes. Unlike him, Ophelia avoided fashionable designs.

“My necessaries are embarked. Farewell. And, sister, as the winds give benefit and convey is assistant, do not sleep but let me hear from you.” Laertes drew the cover of the suitcase open. He drew out the offending piece that was stuck at the side.

“Dainty bugger but alluring to bring forth my attention once more.” Laertes flung the piece across the chamber. “Sis, you should try one of those. It won’t cut into your buttocks like the cotton ones you wear.”

“My preference is of my own.” Ophelia kept her hair design to the simple bob-cut above her ear’s lobes. “And stop rummaging into my clothes. They are mine and mine alone.”

“Whatever it may be. I was just advising you on your choices.” Laertes returned to his packaging. “My belongings are on the ship. Goodbye. And, sister, as long as the winds are blowing and ships are traveling, make sure to send me the news.”

“Have you been listening?” Ophelia snapped at her brother. “Father has asked me to stay back now even though Hamlet is here.”

“I thought you like him?” Laertes looked at his sister. “Not that I consent. He may be my childhood friend, but we grew apart.” Laertes paused in his packing. “He went weird after puberty.”

“Hamler was your friend,” Ophelia told the brother of hers.

“Yes, I knew him well. Even down to his pubic hair count.” Laertes said. “For Hamlet and the trifling of his favor, hold it a fashion and a toy in blood.”

“To him, a violet in the youth of primary nature. Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting.” Laertes walked over to pick up the dainty piece. He took a whiff of the scent. “I need to keep this. She may come back for desserts.”

“Now that is Hamlet. The perfume and suppliance of a minute. No more.” Laertes added.

“No more but so?” Ophelia raised the doubt. “No more than a single minute?”

“Think it no more.” Laertes tossed the dainty piece once more. “For nature, the crescent does not grow alone. In the wilds and bulk, but, as this temple waxes…. The inward service of the mind and soul grows wide within.”

“Perhaps he loves you now,” Laertes placed his right thumb over his lips.

“And now no soil nor cartel doth besmirch the virtue of his will, but you must fear. His greatness weighed, his will is not his own, For he is subject to his birth. He is Hamlet as I am the Adonis.”

“He may not, as unvalued persons do, carve for himself, for on his choice depends the safety and health of this whole state.” Laertes pondered on his words. “Remarkable selection of words but what does it mean?”

“Hmmm… And therefore must his choice be circumscribed into the voice and yielding of that body, whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, it may fit your wisdom so far to believe it. As he in his particular act and place.”

“May give his saying deed, which is no further than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain if with too credent ear you list his songs. Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open to his unmastered importunity.” Laertes cautioned his sister. “Your vanity is my concern.”

“Fear it, Ophelia! Fear it, my dear sister! And keep you in the rear of your affection,” Laertes run the length and width of the chamber as if he was performing an exorcism.

“Out of the shot and danger of desire, the chariest maid is prodigal enough but if she unmasks her beauty to the moon.” Laertes sighed. “Virtue itself ’scapes not calumnious strokes. The canker galls the infants of the spring to take oft before their buttons are disclosed.”

“And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, contagious blastments are most imminent. They are alike to a sudden strike. It dulls the senses. Best safety lies in fear. Find youth to itself rebels, though none else near.”

“My dear brother, you are not writing a play on the stage and I know of your intents for I am still pure in me, but not tempestuous to the wiles of pleasures.” Ophelia sighed. “I am no old maid.”

“Ophelia, think of it that way, at least,” Laertes spoke from experience. “When a youth becomes a man, it’s not just his body that grows in size.”

Laertes turned his frame to display his masculinity.

“So do the responsibilities that weigh on his mind and soul. Perhaps he loves you now,” Laertes frowned at his expression. “Nothing stains the purity of that love; well, not yet.  But you must take into account that he cannot make his own decisions. He is bound by the needs of the royal family; his inherited legacy I am afraid.”

“Hamlet can’t just choose whomever he wants—because the choice he makes could affect the safety and security of the entire estate. He must do what is right for the family that he leads when he makes his choice.” Laertes looked pensive. “He could be impotent too.”

“Laertes! I shall not …” Ophelia turned to leave but was stopped by Laertes.

“So, if he says he loves you, it would be smart for you to understand that his words can’t mean any more than what the needs of Denmark allow it to mean. Then think about how it would stain your reputation if you believe his words of love, …. or fall in love, …. or give up your virginity to him.”

“Do be careful, Ophelia. Be careful, my dear sister. Keep your feelings under control, and keep yourself free from the danger of his desire. Avoid exposing your beauty, even to the moon. Your reputation can be ruined if other people even think that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Too often, worms or disease ruin flowers before they blossom—and young flowers are the most vulnerable. Be careful. You will be safest if you maintain a healthy fear. Young people can lose their self-control without any outside help.”

“I shall the effect of this good lesson keep as a watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, do not, as some ungracious pastors do; show me the steep and thorny way to heaven. Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine, himself the primrose path of dalliance treads. And recks not his rede.” Ophelia took her final stand then.

“I fear a drip in the air pressure deadens my hearing.” Laertes feigned deafness.

“I shall repeat here. I’ll take your wise words and hold them close to my heart. But, my good brother, don’t be like a bad priest who does not follow his advice, preaching about the need to follow the strict and righteous path to heaven while—like a reckless playboy—he pursues pleasure.”

“Fear me not. I have your concern on my heart.” Laertes heard the once familiar footsteps. “I stay too long for here comes the Great Chamberlain with more blessing.”