Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 5 Scene 1 Sub Scene 4

 Act Five

Act Five Scene One

Sub Scene Four

Ophelia’s funeral

Hamlet saw the arriving entourage with the wagon that carried a coffin. He then saw the buggy bringing the guests, and was surprised to see Claudius, his mother among those who were there.

“Here comes Claudius, my mother, and the courtiers. Who is this they follow? A wagon with a coffin. Who died at Elsinore Castle?” Hamlet asked. Normally, if it’s the ranking members, the ceremony will be elaborate with the servants all involved. Even with the servant’s funeral, it was still more detailed than what he saw. It was too simple an affair. At least there was a priest who was alone and not accompanied by the usual staff that will assist in the last rites.

“And with such maimèd rites? This doth betoken the coffin they follow did with desperate hand for the last part of the journey.” Hamlet told Horatio. “Let us keep watch.”

The entourage was pulled up by the grave, and the aides carried the coffin down. It was a simple box with a single garland of flowers on the top. The coffin was immediately lowered to the hole dug by the gravediggers.

“Most unusual for this, without any prayers, and the dead were interned.” Hamlet was curious. It was the voice that brought Hamlet’s next attention.

“What ceremony else?” The one who spoke was Laertes.

“That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Horatio, you knew him.” Hamlet was to approach the entourage but was held back by Horatio.

“Wait and see my lord,” Horatio told Hamlet.

“What ceremony else?” Laertes was upset. “Is that it?”

Claudius and Gertrude remained silent while the priest spoke.

“Her obsequies have been as far as enlarged as we have a warranty. Her death was doubtful,” Suicide was not disclosed officially, but stated as unnatural death.

“And, but that great command overstays the order,” Claudius had paid the priest to do the last rites; simple as it was but rightfully done. Suicide was a sin by the Book.

“She should in ground unsanctified been lodged till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers. Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown at her. Yet here she is allowed her virgin grants,” It was the instruction of Gertrude; Ophelia is a maiden still.

“Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home of bell and burial.” The priest concluded his task.

“Must there no more be done? She is my sister, devoted to the Book and prayed daily.”

“No more be done.” The priest said. “We should now profane the service of the dead to sing a requiem and such rest to her as to peace-parted souls.”

“Lay her i’ th’ earth, and from her fair and unpolluted flesh may violets spring!” Laertes cut in at her prayer. “I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be when thou liest howling. Surely in Hell.”

“Laertes, please remain calm. Your sister would not have allowed that.” Gertrude called out. “We all loved her.”

“What, the fair Ophelia is there?” Hamlet looked at Horatio. “Why did you not tell me earlier?”

“Sweets to the sweet, farewell!” Gertrude approached the grave. She scatters flowers. “I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet’s wife; I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, and not have strewed thy grave.”

“O, treble woe to fall ten times treble on that cursèd head whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense 260
Deprived thee of!—Hold off the earth awhile, till I have caught her once more in mine arms.” Laertes defies all that was there when he leaps into the grave. He clasped the coffin cover there.

“Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, till of this flat a mountain you have made t’ overtop old Pelion or the skyish head of blue Olympus. I will stay with her.”

“What is he whose grief?”  Hamlet approached the grave. “He bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandering stars and makes them stand Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Prince.”

“You!” Laertes climbed out of the grave. “How dare you come here? The devil take thy soul!”

“Thou prayest not well. I …” Hamlet reached for Laertes, but the other grappled him and held the hands on his neck. Hamlet pulled away from the deadly hold.

“I prythee take thy fingers from my throat, for though I am not sensitive and rash, yet have I in me something dangerous, which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand.”

“Yes, I know. The murdering intent that drove along with your madness.” Laertes shouted at Hamlet.

“Pluck them asunder,” Claudius called the aides.

“Hamlet! Hamlet!” Gertrude called out. It was Horatio who pulled the two fighting men.

“Good my lord, be quiet.” Hamlet and Laertes are separated.

“Why, I will fight with him upon this theme until my eyelids will no longer wag!”

“O my son, what theme?” Gertrude approached Hamlet. She held out her hands to him but he rejected them.

“I loved Ophelia. Four thousand brothers; the mass of Norway who was with the King,  could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?”

“O, he is mad, Laertes!” Claudius called to the other.

“For the love of God, forbear him. He is my son.” Gertrude called for calmness.

“Swounds, show me what thou ’t do.” Hamlet was upset at Laertes who leaped on the grave. “You won’t weep, won’t fight, won’t fast, woo’t tear thyself, won’t drink up Eisel, eat a crocodile?”

Hamlet was saying that Laertes was not doing it right for Ophelia as he would.

“I’ll do ’t. Dost thou come here to whine? Or to outface me with leaping in her grave?” Hamlet glared at Laertes. “Be buried quick with her, and so will I.”

“And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw millions of acres on us, till our ground, lingering his pate against the burning zone, make Ossa like a wart. Nay, an thou ’lt mouth, I’ll rant as well as thou.” Hamlet was berating the other.

“This is mere madness,” Gertrude wept her tears.

“Hear you, sir, what is the reason that you use me thus? I loved you ever. But it is not matter. Let Hercules himself do what he may, the cat will mew, and the dog will have his day.”

Hamlet walked from the grave followed by Horatio.

“Laertes. Strengthen your patience in our last night’s speech.” Claudius said to the other. “We’ll put the matter to the present push.—”

Laertes was not listening but had prostrated over his sister’s grave. His tears were like streaming currents that flowed down his cheeks while he moaned out apologies to her.

“Good Gertrude set some watch over your son.—” Claudius said to her. “He needs to be watched.”

“We will stay here by the grave as it’s a living monument. An hour of quiet thereby shall we see till then in patience our proceeding be.” Claudius told the others. Not many saw the priest take his leave from the rear; his fees collected and his task done.