Act One Scene Four
Sub-scene
One
The
wait for the ghost
It
was a cold night when Hamlet donned the overcoat to join Horatio and Marcellus
at the gate. He arrived there to look at the walls. It was funny that for
something that was there for years and you never took notice of it. He examined
the moat and the moss on the walls. He even touched the huge padlock there.
“It
was installed by your father when he moved in here. He told my father to buy
the lock from the continent.” Horatio explained. “It was once the lock to the
lower dungeons of a medieval castle.”
“It
must have been older than the castle.” Hamlet smiled. “Was it to keep the
ghosts from or to the dungeons?”
“I
won’t know but the key itself is a heavy one.” Marcellus cut in. “Took me a
while to know how the turns work.”
Hamlet
was examining the walls. From where he stood, it looked a like dark backdrop on
the stage; its surface was coated with decaying mortar and creeping moss from
the moat. He turned around and looked to the ground after the moat. There was
the gravel road that lead to the main gate. He remembered the drive that early
dawn in the steam four-wheeler. Its noise carried far into the night and
alerted the new guards that took over from Horatio and friends.
Hamlet
drove like a speed demon trying to outrun the rising sun as if the sunlight
will burn into his flesh.
“Even
though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with
me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me,” Hamlet recalled speaking to
himself while he drove then. The gaslight headlights of the vehicle shone onto
the walls, with fleeting shadows passing by as if they were in the same pursuit
as Hamlet.
“You
shall not win, ghastly shadows. I am the main one here.” Hamlet said when he
came down the straight towards the main gate. He pressed the rubbery design
horn on the side of the steering to alert the guards but the main gate remained
closed. He braked on the pedal and the vehicle slowed to a full stop. The
relief guards stepped into the lights of the vehicle.
“Tell
the household, I am back. I am Hamlet the Prince.”
It
was his voice that carried his claim. And Hamlet was home after many years.
“The
air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.” Hamlet felt the cold then. Even when he
was driving that dawn before, he had not felt anything except the need to get
home.
A
home that was not seen for a long time.
“It
is a nipping and an eager air,” Horatio said. “Do you want a lamp to warm on?”
“Nay,
the overcoat works well. Is it time?”
“It
lacks the hour of midnight,” Horatio replied.
“No,
it struck now.” Marcellus voiced out. It was true then the sounds of merriment
came from the castle. It was the sounds of the musical band doing dance music.
“How
does it? Are we in any celebrations again?” Horatio asked.
“It’s
the new Emperor living on the tradition of the old King. The lighter side to celebrate
on his wedding night.” Hamlet replied.
“I
had not seen it before.” Horatio who had lived there was not to know.
“You
were away before you with me, Horatio.” It was true that Horatio did spend some
years with his mother and soon after her death, he was sent to stay with his
father.
“The
King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, as I were to know from the younger
age.” Hamlet explained “It was after mother’s mother died and the wake was not
a sober affair but of fun and revelry. Father had decided that the gloom and
doom feeling was to be celebrated in the castle since then.”
“That
explained the wedding after wake or was it before?” Marcellus was confused.
“The
King had his swaggering upspring reels; his list of comedies to laugh over, and
drains his draughts of Rhenish down while the kettle drums and trumpet thus
bray out
the triumph of his pledge.” Hamlet recalled then.
“That’s
entirely madness,” Marcellus uttered out of line then. “Pardon me, my Prince.”
“None
has taken on the offense. But, to my mind, though I am native here and to the
manner born, it is a custom.” Hamlet sighed. “More honored in the breach than
the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and west makes us traduced and
taxed of other estates.”
“They
clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase soil our addition. And, indeed, it
takes From our achievements though performed at height, the pith, and marrow of
our attribute.” Hamlet paraphrased his words. “So oft it chances in particular
men, that for some vicious mole of nature in them, as in their birth (wherein
they are not guilty, since nature cannot choose his origin. God forgives the
mothers here.)”
“He
demeans the mothers”?” Marcellus asked but was told to remain silent by
Horatio.
“By
the overgrowth of some complexion (Oft breaking down the pales and forts
of reason)”, Hamlet continued. “Or by some habit that too much o’erleavens the
form of plausive manners—that these men, carrying, I say, the stamp of one
defect, Being nature’s livery or fortune’s star.”
“Was
he saying about the horses and goats?” Marcellus cut at Horatio. The other
hushed the question.
“His
virtues else, be they as pure as grace, as infinite as man may undergo, shall
in the general censure take corruption from that particular fault. The dram of
evil. Doth all the noble substance of doubt to his scandal.”
“Why
can’t he speak plainly?” Marcellus asked. “I am doth in confusion with the
animals and mothers?”
“Your’s
is a plain mind, and remain as such,” Horatio advised his twin. “Hamlet
disliked the Emperor was what he meant. To Hamlet, the Emperor is an
undeserving beast.”
“The
ghost arrives.” Marcellus quipped out. “It comes.”
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