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.

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 5 Scene 1 Sub Scene 3

 Act Five

Act Five Scene One

Sub Scene Three

Who lies there, Mr.Gravedigger?

“Is not parchment made of sheepskins?” Hamlet spied the parchment in the gravedigger’s hand.

“Ay, my lord, and of calves’ skins too.” Horatio saw it too.

They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.—” Horatio approached the gravedigger. “Whose grave’s this, sirrah?”

“Heaven protects me! Who are thee to sneak up on me here? In the graveyard and silent were your steps?”

“Horatio of ..Elsinore. I chanced by here and asked.” Horatio introduced himself. I am with my …. Friend here.”

“Elsinore? Yup should have known. I have seen the new digs.” Albert knew of the guards there. He once told Castella, dig that one and you may find some values if any left, or shed the suit to sell if none.

“This plot is mine …for now. We are digging it for a new …guest.” Albert smiled. “We respect them like royalty too.”

Sings. O, a pit of clay to be made
For such a guest is meet.

Albert sang from his selection of songs.

“I think it is thine indeed, for thou liest in ’t.” Hamlet made a jest at the gravedigger. \

“You lie out on ’t, sir, and therefore ’tis not yours. For my part, I do not lie in ’t, yet it is mine.” Albert took offense to the jest.

“Thou dost lie in ’t, to be in ’t and say it is thine. Tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.” Hamlet said that the gravedigger was in the hole, hence it must belong to him.

“Tis a quick lie, sir; ’twill away again from me to you. A twist here in the facts, sir.” Albert smiled,

“What man dost thou dig it for?” Hamlet moved the conversation forward and inquire about the grave.

“For no man, sir,” Albert replied.

“ What woman then?” Hamlet asked.

“For none, neither,” Albert replied. “One that was a woman, sir, but, rests her soul, she’s dead. Not naturally but dead. Not like the others with gasping breaths, they had been interned.”

That last line was directed at Horatio to say nit all that he buried were dead then.

“How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us.” Hamlet was exasperated by the gravedigger’s replies. He wants a precise reply to his question. He is the lord after all.

“By the Lord, Horatio, this three years I have taken note of it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe.” Hamlet felt the servants or peasants were brave to stand as equal with the lordship.

Horatio looked away. Hamlet may be alike his father; aloft in his view as the so-claimed royalty, yet beneath the clothes, they were all alike.

“How long hast thou been, grave-maker?” Hamlet asked,

“Gravedigger, Sire. I am not a maker. Thine must not cross our roles, or ghosts may be alive like us.” Albert replied. “Or are you one of those? They said you only can come out at nightfall.”

“I am not. I am a living soul, night and day.” Hamlet declared himself.

“Sane or none, I yet to know,” Horatio muttered to himself lest he is heard by Hamlet.

“Of all the days i’ th’ year, I came to ’t that day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. I was there with him.” Albert smiled.

“How long is that since?” Hamlet asked.

“Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was that very day that young Hamlet was born—he that is mad and sent to England. As I am told by the castle servants. I am an ingrate to live far from it, but I have my own abode.”

Horatio wanted to intervene on Albert but Hamlet pressed on.

“Ay, marry, why was he sent into England? This young Hamlet?”

“Why, because he was mad. He shall recover his wits there. So says the Emperor, Or if he do not, ’tis no great
matter there. He will not return.” Albert continued.

“Why?” Hamlet asked.

“This not be seen in him there. There the men are as mad as he.” Albert whispered to Hamlet. “Madness in the castle.”

“How came he mad?” Hamlet was intrigued by the servants’ talk.

“Very strangely, they say. Not like my cousin Jack, he was born that way.:

“How “strangely?” Hamlet felt Horatio’s hand on him, and he shrugged it off.

“Faith, e’en with losing his wits,” Albert replied.

“Upon what ground?” Hamlet asked.

“Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. I have seen it all; sane, madness, the innocent and guilty ones.” Albert smiled. “All dead. Or soon to be. I came to ’t that day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.”

“How long will a man lie i’ th’ earth ere he rot?” Hamlet moved the topic.

“Faith, if he is not rotten before he dies, he will last you some eight or nine years. A tanner will last you nine
year.”

“Why he more than another?” Hamlet queried,

“Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade that he will keep out water a great while, and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here’s a skull now hath lien you i’ th’ earth three-and-twenty years.”

“Whose was it? And why dug him out?” Hamlet asked,

“A whoreson mad fellow’s it was. He had decayed and his plot will go to the non-deserving one. She died unnaturally. Let her lain here in a used plot.” Albert replied to the second question before he turn to the first. “The skull you asked of whom? Let me see. Whose do you think it was?”

“Nay, I know not.” Hamlet shrugged his shoulders.

“A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! He poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. Humiliated me in front of friends.  This same skull, sir, was, sir, Yorick’s skull, the King’s jester.” Albert recognized the hollow cheeks.

“This?” Hamlet took the skull “Let me see. Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio—a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.”

“Where be your gibes now? your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your grinning? Quite chapfallen?” Hamlet recalled the jester who was the aide to the King. He had played pranks on Hamlet when younger.

“Yorick will make fun of me. He will say, ‘Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at that.’ I disliked him yet loved him for his rides.”

“Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.” Hamlet displayed a smile.

“What’s that, my lord?” Horatio looked at Hamlet. The smile put him on a caution.

“Dost thou think Alexander looked o’ this fashion i’ th’ earth?” Hamlet raised a madness question.

“E’en so.” Horatio nodded. He was unsure of how to reply.

“And smelt so? Pah!” Hamlet puts the skull down.

“E’en so, my lord.” A safe answer then.

“To what base uses we may return, Horatio!” Hamlet was all reflecting on the mortality of one. “Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till….”

“Large to stopping a bunghole perhaps?” Hamlet pictured the skull as Alexander’s may have blocked the passage in the sewers if reaches there.

“Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.” Horatio patronizes his lord.

“No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither, with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam; and why of that loam whereto he was converted might they not stop a beer barrel?” Hamlet was in the throes of madness once more. “Imperious Caesar for one, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. The Romans or Egyptian may have dug his remains from ashes to make clay and into the sewers as the passage flows.”

“O, that that earth which kept the world in awe Should patch a wall t’ expel the winter’s flaw!” Hamlet was ranting in madness then.

Horatio saw the burial entourage were arriving.

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 5 Scene 1 Sub Scene 2

 Act Five

Act Five Scene One

Sub Scene Two

Respect for the dead

Hamlet and Horatio had arrived earlier and heard the gravediggers talk. Hamlet was not amused at the two making remarks on the dead and the faith that was there.

“Has this fellow no feeling of his business? He sings in grave-making.” Hamlet said to Horatio.

“Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.” Horatio had done his sessions of digging graves, some were there at the plot, and as most were done at odd hours; earlier of it, he had taken to muttering prayer verses. He was a killer of some sort but burying the dead was never a pleasant task. He had buried the Great Chamberlain on the instruction of Hamlet.

“Give him a burial, my dear friend. I had him killed and feared if his body was found, I will be called to explain.” Hamlet had told Horatio. “He was despicable to hide in my mother’s chamber. He had infringed his right and invaded my mother’s privacy.”

“Tell me not where he was to be. Be it the rack that will wreck my body, I won't be able to tell what I do not know.” Hamlet told Horatio. The latter had not hesitated to remove the body. He buried the body in the forest, in a grave he dug himself.

“Old man, I disliked you but above all, I have my loyalty to Hamlet. Stay there and do not return as a ghost to taunt us. Don’t forget, we still hold your daughter ransom.” Horatio spoke over the grave. “You may know me as a gentleman but I have hardened over the years. I am vicious now.”

“Tis e’en so. The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.” Hamlet’s words interrupted Horatio on his thoughts.

“To every person, their sanity to prevail in their task,” Horatio said to Hamlet’s words. “Some of us had it easier.”

At the grave, Albert had begun his digging, and to keep him company, he also sang.

“But age with his stealing steps
Hath clawed me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me into the land, 75
As if I had never been such.”

“Oops, I hit something hard.” Albert reached to pick it up. It was a skull.

“The part that remained harder to give away to the soil.” Albert held up the skull. “All of you are gone, yet you remain intact here. Do you hear me? I doubt without ears you could listen.”

Hamlet saw the gravedigger holding the skull to talk to it and then placing it on the side moving it every then and now.

“That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once.” Hamlet was naïve most times; he assumed everyone like him as an actor would have sung before. “Why does he disrespect it by making it a mantlepiece shifting it on fancy?”

“How the knave jowls it to the ground as if ’twere Cain’s jawbone, that did the first murder!” Cain was the first to murder Abel according to the Book. The jaw-bone is not Cain's, but the ass's with which Cain slew Abel. Since the ninth century, the weapon of Cain in English vernacular accounts of the first murder is the jaw-bone of an ass. Cain did toss Abel's head like a discarded item.

“This might be the pate of a politician which this ass now overreaches, one that would circumvent God, might it not?” Politicians are always the butt (asses) of jokes since the Greeks era.

“It might, my lord. They are not likeable.” Horatio chuckled. “So when we're dead…. At times.”

It was a sarcastic remark to comment on the Great Chamberlain; respected and fearful when he was in the castle then laid in the ground, unmarked or perhaps dug up by scavengers,

“Or of a courtier, which could say “Good morrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, sweet lord?” This might be my Lord Such-a-one that praised my Lord such-a-one's horse when he went to beg it, might it not?” Hamlet snapped back at Horatio to patronize him with every word he said. “You are not my servant, Horatio but my friend. Be fair and real to me.”

“Ay, my lord.” Horatio smiled.

Why, e’en so. And now my Lady Worm’s,  chapless and knocked about the mazard with a sexton’s spade. Here’s the fine revolution, and we had the trick to see ’t. Did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play at loggets with them? Mine ache to think on.” Hamlet was annoyed at the way the gravedigger handles the skull; once had been a living person which then was feeding the maggots.

“A pickax and a spade, a spade,
For and a shrouding sheet,
O, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
He digs up more skulls.”

Albert reached into his repertoire of songs to keep himself amused still unaware that he was observed by two gentlemen

“There may be another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his
qualities, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? I dislike their tongues wagging with the selection of words and memory. But he was still a living person then.” Hamlet finds the lawyers an irritant but felt that dignity should be conferred at death.

Horatio looked on with wonderment the young man was speaking as if he was divided in his mind. He had not respected the dead Great Chamberlain and there he was then making comments on bones that he knew whom.

“Why does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel and will not tell
him of his action of battery? Hum, this fellow might be in ’s time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,
his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines and the
recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt?” Hamlet was all consenting to the soul that once inhabited the bones.

For Horatio, he had done his share of taking other life’s that he sees as a task to be put down, or bury. He held no conscience for them, but he does believe that their ghosts may be floating around, hence his mutterings of prayer verses. They can challenge him when he is also dead, and let the outcome be decided then.

“Au revoir,” Horation had said many times before the first shovel of soil on the head of the dead.

“Will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box, and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?” Hamlet turned to the miscreant side of his. He mocks the dead who may have left properties to his next of kin, yet none seems to thank him here. Such was the ‘dignity’ of the living, care not for the toils of the bereaved but lavish on the wealth left behind.

“Not a jot more, my lord.” For once Horatio agreed with Hamlet. He was without any great inheritance, perhaps the ongoing servitude to Norway may be it with his twin; good meals, and a roof over their head. The occasional burial tasks.

 

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

 Act Five

Act Five Scene One

Sub Scene One

A gravedigger’s conversation.

There can be no doubt that intentionally killing oneself is a sin. The Sixth Commandment clearly states, “You shall not murder” (Exodus 20:13), and suicide is murdering oneself. Yet we should not be quick to condemn a person who dies in this manner, the person who commits suicide often has been dealing with these issues secretly, the depth of his or her struggle known only to himself or herself.

Could God extend mercy, even to a believer who takes his or her life? After all, a believer certainly knows that suicide is wrong. Consider what the Psalms show about the character of God: “For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His mercy toward those who fear Him” (Psalm 103:11). The Bible even weighs mercy against judgment, concluding that “mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

(https://lifehopeandtruth.com/life/life-after-death/what-does-the-bible-say-about-suicide/)

It’s not entirely shared by all.

At a personal plot of land near Elsinore Castle, two men were hard at work; digging a deep hole in the ground for the grave of named Ophelia.

“Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she willfully seeks her self-salvation?” The gravedigger name as Abot stopped then the digging. He was leaning on the shovel taking in deep breaths. He wore dark blue work overall over his blue tunic.

“I tell thee she is. Therefore make her grave straight. The crowner hath sat on her and finds it Christian burial.” The other named Castello was still digging and had on the orange shade overall, over his white tunic. He had his bowler hat on the side of the grave site.

“Straight? It was always done that way. Had I ever dug a grave crooked?” Albert felt his works were done with the over forty graves he had dug in the county, including Norway.

“Tell it to one at Holly. You dug deep and it was narrow at the head.” Castello reminded the other.

“That was Mary Bottoms; she held a wider butt than most. I had to adjust for her.”

“Yup, you did and the priest almost fell in along.” Albert defended his action. “Not all of us were the same.”

“Bless thee, Mary. Albert gave you a bigger dug to lay in.” Castello laughed. “As he had laid his head into yours.”

“Hold on to that, Castello. Let us talk about it here. I heard she was …. How can that be unless she drowned
herself in her defense? No decent Christian will do that. It’s a sin.”

“Why, ’tis found so. Are you the Coroner now to determine the cause of death?” Castello stopped digging. “Or a priest now?”

“It must be se offended; it cannot be else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches—it is to act, to do, to perform. Argal, she drowned herself wittingly.”

“Will you dig now? I am doing more than my share here.” Castello cut in.

“I will…” Albert replied but his shovel remained leaned on.

“Nay, but hear you, goodman delver—” Castello wanted to finish the dig.

“Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the man; good. If the man goes to this water and drowns himself, it is (will he, nill he) he goes; mark you that. But if the water comes to him and drowns him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he that is not guilty of his death shortens not his own life.”

“Is this the law?” Castello was getting irritated. “Albert, she died and we dig. They bury her here.”

“Ay, but look at the coroner’s law first.” Albert was into the mood to present his case.

“Will you ha’ the truth on ’t? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o’ Christian burial?” Castello was not a follower of the faith; Sunday mass had not his attendance.

“Why, there thou sayst. And the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even Christian. Come, my spade. There are no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers. They hold up Adam’s profession.”

“Was he a gentleman? Bloody good Adam did for us,” Albert said. “If he had not done it, maybe we won’t be doing this today. It was said that the first to be at the garden, and Adam may have tended to the growth there. He probably got bored and complained to God, thus Eve was created and gifted the term ‘housewife’ or later ‘servant’. A woman need not deny their purpose of existence.” Castello was into his sarcastic remarks. “My dead mother once said; your father knew not of digging with his arms. It was she who tended the garden then. As most women do.”

“What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the scripture?” Albert himself a devout follower of the Book chided at Castella. “The scripture says, Adam dug. Could he dig without arms? I’ll put another question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself.”

“My confess? I would if there was a pint for me, but I will do as you asked. Go to!” Castello smiled.

“What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?” Albert asked.

“The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants. Even the rope may snap on long use, but never the gallows platform.” Castello smiled. “Ask the pirates; they hung many from it.”

“I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows do well. But how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church. Argal, the gallows may do well to thee. Your turn to ask.”

“I know not what to ask,” Castella said.

“Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating. And, when you are asked this question next, say “a grave-maker.” The houses he makes last till doomsday.” Albert was right. The grave was the one that last forever unless someone dug it up.

“You lost. Go, get thee in, and fetch me a stoup of liquor. The Other Man remains open now.” Albert told Castella. The other climbed out and then marched his way to the tavern nearby.

“And the Gravedigger digs and sings.
In youth when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet
To contract—O—the time for—a—my behove, 65
O, methought there—a—was nothing—a—meet.” Castalla sang on his march.

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 5 Interlude

 Act Five

Interlude

“Laertes, you need to listen.” Reynaldo had interrupted the practice bout on fencing with his partner. Laertes was distracted and the partner’s foil had made contact with his heart.

“Touche!’ The other called out. Laertes lowered his foil to accept the defeat.

“I have your heart, oui?” The duel partner of Laertes stepped up to him while removing the visor they wore for the bout.

“Yes, mon Cherie. You won it.” Laertes had a smile on his face when he removed his visor. “We will toast to that soon.”

“Sure, I will await you. You can always take your thrusts into me.” The partner then took off to the shower rooms. Laertes watched the curves of the lady who was his partner then. He may enjoy her other bouts but loathed to lose it in the fencing bout.

“Laertes, I bring….” Reynaldo approached his care. The foil blunted at the end was still a deadly weapon. It was leveled at the throat of the servant.

“I hope you have better reasons to make me lose my bout.” Laertes hissed out his anger. Reynaldo knew that Laertes took his fencing like his acting; fierce and striving for the masterful.

“It’s your father. The Great Chamberlain is dead. I …”

“When did this happen?” Laertes was shaken by the news. “He was well when I left him.”

“I know not much but the words that reached me said he was …murdered. His body not found.” Reynaldo said. “I have no …”

“What of Elsinore? No one told us yet?” Laertes asked.

“None, Sire. Nothing was conveyed.” Reynaldo shook his head. “I only got to know from my ….friends.”

“How can that be? My father is the Great Chamberlain.” Laertes was upset. “He deserves more than …”

“I have made arrangements for your return. You will…” Reynaldo was cut off by the other.

“Tell me what your friends said.”

“They…They said he was murdered by… Hamlet, who had disposed of the body without any burial rituals.”

“My sister, Ophelia?”

“I heard nothing of her.” Reynaldo lied then.

“I must go then. She will need me.” Laertes pulled at his training vest.

“Yes, Sire. I will let Madame Denise…” Reynaldo tried to take care of matters.

“Yes, please do. She is a mess.” Laertes had his use of the French lady; she was a good sponsor of his acts. “I trust you will not fail me.”

“Nay to that. I will wait for your return.” Reynaldo lied with his smile. He had lost his benefactor, the Great Chamberlain, and knew that what he was getting from Laertes was too small an amount to suit his needs. He was thinking of another master or mistress to serve.

Laertes exited the hall, while Reynaldo took to his next task. He donned the vest and visor. Some tasks are best not recognized by others. He approached the shower room and locked the door.

“Is that you, my dearie?” Madam Denise called out from the hot shower cubicle. “I am already here.”

Reynaldo discarded his pants and approached the cubicle. He saw the lady standing there with her back to him. He stood behind her and pushed her forward by the hips. He gave her no opportunity to look and had his way into her.

“Ah…Such force. I like it.” The lady moaned at the act. “Like a stud onto the mare.”

“You are so …” The lady was in her bouts of ecstasy. “Mon Dieu, you complete me.”

Not all tasks were about reporting but closer rapport may do the tasks better.

Laertes mind was on the trip back.

How and what could he do? His father murdered or was said to be. Could the servants be mistaken? What has not Ophelia sent news to him on that? Could she be hurt too? He cannot imagine Ophelia being hurt but the images of her in his mind were vividly lurid not of her death but unconsented acts upon her.

“Hamlet, you bastard. You are capable of beastly acts.” Laertes clasped his face with his hands. “Oh God, not him. It’s so …cruel. I love her. She is to be mine.”

“If it’s, I swear by my …. Sister’s soul, I will …castrate you before I kill you.” Laertes was enraged then.

If only he knew how Ophelia felt then.

“One petal for you, one for you.” Ophelia had sat by the willow tree plucking at the petals. She had done her garlands and there were the remaining flowers that were not used.

“The garland shaped to bind two into one.” Ophelia smiled. “Like two hearts held by it; the flowers form the bond. With it, the cupid may release its arrow into the hearts. The petals are the new souls that will come from the garland; ever aplenty.”

“Father, please forgive me. I do love him very much, madness and all. For too long have I waited, but not for long. I knew you disliked him, but he is my choice.” Ophelia sighed. “Many had said that you were killed by him, but I am unsure. Could it be you made him do it to deny me of my love? You think he is at wit's end with his father’s death, his mother wedded to another, and you denying us.”

“I had to …deny you too. I gave it all up to him. He was …good and it’s done.” Ophelia smiled. “I had done my sorrows for your demise, and now I am rejoicing in mine. Not of sorrow but of a new beginning.”

“Don’t be upset, father. You will soon see your grandchild.” Ophelia smiled. “It was destined for us.”

Ophelia picked up the garland of flowers. It was a pretty mix of red roses, yellow dandelions, and white lilacs. It was a unique combination with each flower having its meaning. The dandelions were like a lion’s mane; the crown of Hamlet, the white lilac was her with her virtue, and the red roses were like love; the blood she sacrificed for him.

“Aha, you are here too,” Ophelia called out. She saw then the water nymphs; dozens of them jumping and running on the surface of the brook.

“Well, hello to all of you.” Ophelia smiled. “I made a garland on my love. Is it lovely?”

“The garland must reach the high branch.” Ophelia heard the call from the water nymphs.

“So, shall it be.” Ophelia carried the garland and climbed the willow tree. It was difficult but she managed with the water nymphs who pushed or pulled her up. She reached the top branch and sat there.

“Is this high enough?” Ophelia asked the water nymphs. It was then she slipped and fell into the brook. She lay there on the water's surface still holding the garland over her belly.

“I must not damage it. It’s our love.” Ophelia held the garland above the water. The water nymphs surrounded her and sang lullabies to her. She sang along, unaware of her slipping deep into the muddy bottom. All she felt then was comfort. She was cuddled by the warmth of her love.

“I am coming to see you, Hamlet.” Ophelia closed her eyes.

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 4 Scene 7 Sub Scene 4

 Act Four

Act Four Scene Seven

Sub Scene Four

Tragedy once more.

“Claudius, are you there?” It was Gertrude who appeared. She saw him with Laertes at the Library.

“There you are. And …Laertes, you are here too.” Gertrude stopped in her walk. “When did you arrive?”

“Just the day, and …” Laertes explained his arrival.

“We were talking here. I had not informed you as yet.” Claudius cut in. “Why do you look so distressed?”

“I brought deary news.” Gertrude approached Laertes. “One woe doth tread upon another’s heel,
So fast they follow. Your sister’s drowned, Laertes.”

“Ophelia? It can’t be.” Laertes was shocked. “I …”

“Please remain calm. Ophelia drowned.”

“Drowned? O, where?” Laertes's tears appeared on his cheeks.

“I am unsure. I was told that she was at the brook. There is a willow grows askant the brook That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.” Gertrude knew the place. It was a beautiful spot to relax.

“Therewith fantastic garlands did she make of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples; that liberal shepherds give a grosser name, but our cold maids do “dead men’s fingers” call them.” Gertrude had heard names of the place from others.

"Forget them. Tell me of Ophelia.” Laertes said. “I need…”

“There she was placing the garlands of flowers on the branches. Where she could not reach, she climbed the tree onto its branches. She was cautioned on that before, but paid no heed to it.” Gertrude sighed. “It was then she fell when one of the branches broke. She dropped into the brook.”

“Her clothes spread wide, and mermaid-like awhile they bore her up, which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, as one incapable of her distress or like a creature native and endued unto that element.” It was rumored that water nymphs dwell there, and mischievous are they to call the innocents there.

“But long it could not be till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay to muddy death.” Gertrude wept her tears.

“Why was there no one to help her? You said of seeing her fall.” Laertes looked at Gertrude.

“I was not. I heard the servants call out. I was in the courtyard. I went over but was too late.” Gertrude told Laertes. “They tried to drag her out, but were not to do so.”

“Alas, then she is drowned.” Laertes sobbed his pain out. “My Ophelia.”

“Drowned, drowned.” Gertrude joined in with the pain.

“Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,” Laertes rubbed away his tears. “And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet …I had cautioned her of the …stay here.”

“It is our trick; nature her custom holds, the pain will bring the tears to our eyes. Let shame say what it will. When these are gone, the woman will be out.” Laertes cleared his mind thus his pain.

“Adieu, my lord. I have a speech o’ fire that fain would blaze our plan but that this folly drowns it. I must leave now.” Laertes left the library. Claudius knew it was fruitless to pursue the conversation with Laertes then.

“He needs to be calmed.” Claudius looked at the lady. “Let’s follow, Gertrude.”

“Such a sad day for him.” Gertrude leaned on her lover.

“How much I had to do to calm his rage! Now fear I this will give it a start again.” Claudius had the last words toward Gertrude. “Therefore, let’s follow the course of the events. We are in its stream now.”

They exit.

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 4 Scene 7 Sub Scene 3

 Act Four

Act Four Scene Seven

Sub Scene Three

The foul deed planned

“No place indeed should murder sanctuaries; revenge should have no bounds,” Claudius said well. He had differentiated murder from revenge. One is an act to take a life, and the other was to offer redemption to the death whose life was taken.

“There was a play recently here in the castle.” Claudius told Laertes.

“I heard. Ophelia was there.” Laertes knew of the play.

“A mockery of our art. It was by those amateurs who were given the script by  Hamlet. He made a mockery also of the great play. He made it so … scandalous. It would seem that the King was killed as assumed by many based on the malicious play  by a person that resembled me.” Claudius drew on the pained expression; an act he had perfected as Brutus.

“I for one loved the King. I was his companion when we were younger. I took him for my brother.” Claudius looked into his repertoire of words. “Before I loved thee as a brother, John, But now, I do respect thee as my soul.”

“Henry IV, Part 1, Act 5 Scene 4.” Laertes nodded.

“I was to the King, yet he …mock me with those words. I had known the King for many years; it was not an easy journey to be at the top. We were …. Unknowingly, or forced to some foul deeds that could have warranted revenge from his victims but it may not have taken place, thankfully or due to several factors; the inability to do it, or the payment of wealth to offset the desire like in the case of Fortinbras; wounded to be bed stricken, his vengeance was offset by the ducats paid to his son who in turn took it to war with the Polacks.”

“Yes, I heard. A costly price for two streets.” Laertes nodded.

“It’s the way today? Not everyone tolerated …other peers like your father had then. If your father was around, he would have met both and carved a truce but the Great Chamberlian exists no more.” Claudius added praise to the dead man.

“Will the Polacks turn to vengeance; it may happen out of desperation or when the means were available remains to be seen.” Claudius sighed. “Revenge should have no bounds.”

“I agreed,” Laertes concluded the needed action.

“But, good Laertes,” Claudius looked Laertes. “Will you do this? Vengeance is …personal.”

“For vengeance?” Laertes replied. “Ues.”

“Let us …plan. It must be …scripted like the play. Your role, mine, and the others'.” Claudius smiled.

“When Hamlet, returned, shall know you are home too. It will be a grand feast to welcome his safe return. His mother will insist.” Claudius gave out his plan. “We’ll put on those who shall praise your excellence and set a double varnish on the fame.”

“The Frenchman; an associate of mine will be there. He is a fencing judge himself. And a man of the dice. I will place a wager on your heads for a bout of skills with the foil, and he is the judge. He will take the foil, arranged by me for the bout. He, being remiss, most generous, and free in his drinks, may not peruse the foil, so that with ease, or with a little shuffling, you may choose a sword unabated, and in a pass of practice requite Hamlet for your father.” A lengthy explanation of the plan he had in mind to use Laertes as the vengeful son, of his adopted son.

“An unabated foil is blunt at the tip,” Laertes said. “You …”

“It will be done. Hamlet will hold that while you will get the sharpened end to the bout. With your skills and moves, I am sure your foil will stuck at Hamlet mortally. My Frenchman will judge it as an accident or a mishap of the bout. You will gain your vengeance then.” Claudius explained.

“For your father, for Ophelia, and for …Norway.”

“I will do ’t,”Laertes smiled. “And for that purpose, I’ll anoint my sword added. I bought an unction of a potion. 
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it, where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, collected from all simples that have virtue under the moon, can save the thing from death “ Laertes shared his plan. “I got it from the traveling gypsies. “That is but scratched withal. I’ll touch on my point with this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.”

“You had rehearsed the play before?’ Claudius laughed.

“Now I revealed my true intentions. I had planned it to be done in secrecy, maybe unknowingly by Ophelia. It was like getting rid of pests in the wall.” Laertes said.

“Pests in the walls? Yes, they were but it’s …” Claudius knew of the peek holes, and almost to tell more about it but he held his words back.

“Let’s further think of this,” Claudius was always meticulous in his rehearsals. “We cannot go wrong or more faults will be on ….me.”

“Weigh what convenience both of time and means that may fit us to our shape. If this should fail, and our drift looks through our bad performance,” Claudius gave deep thought to the plan. “We should have contingency plans. “Should have a back or second that might hold if this did blast in proof. Soft, let me see.”

“We’ll make a solemn wager on your cunnings— I ha ’t!” Claudius reviews the plan. “When in your motion you are hot and dry, your bouts more violent to that end, and that he calls for a drink, I’ll have prepared him
a chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping, if he by chance escapes your venomed stuck, our purpose may hold there.”

It was then another shadow was seen approaching the library.

“Who’s there?” Claudius called.

 

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 4 Scene 7 Sub Scene 2

 Act Four

Act Four Scene Seven

Sub Scene Two

He lives

“Who interrupts?” Claudius was agitated. He then looked to Laertes. “Please stay. Our conversation has not concluded.”

“Letters, my lord, from Hamlet. These to your Majesty, this to the Queen.” The servant handed the letters.

“From Hamlet? Who brought them?”

“Horatio. He got them from some gentlemen from…. England.” The servant stood there. “I saw them not. They were given by Horatio to Bernard who received them from…I guess of him that brought them.”

“It’s okay. Leave us now.” Claudius dismissed the servant. He then told Laertes to hear the letter while he read.

"High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg to leave to see your kingly eyes when I shall (first ask your pardon) thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return. Hamlet."

“What does he mean? Has his madness overtaken him?” Claudius was upset. He had sent Hamlet with a specific handler with specific instructions. Yet he is returning.

“What should this mean? Are all the rest coming back? What of Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern? Or is it some abuse and no such thing?” Claudius was upset. “I am an Emperor with no idea of what is happening?”

“Is it from Hamlet? Did he write it?” Laertes asked.

“I believe so. It looked like his handwriting. Your father will know better but I believed it so.” Claudius replied. “How I wished Polonius was still here? Perhaps you could. ’Tis Hamlet’s character. “Naked”— And in a postscript here, he says “alone.”

“Can you advise me?” Claudius looked to Laertes. He was feeding questions toward Laertes to read the other’s mind. It was a technique of acting to gauge their diverse acting capability, but then, Claudius was looking for emotional avenues. He found none; Laertes was good, but when the subject of the father, Laertes did react emotionally.

Or the mention of young Hamlet.

“I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come.” Claudius saw the clenched fists of Laertes. “It warms the very sickness in my heart that I shall live and tell him to his teeth, ‘Thus didst thou.’ Before his last breath.”

“If it is so, Laertes”, Claudius saw his ace in the pack of cards. “Will you be ruled by me?”

Claudius looked at Laertes for the reaction. It was a testy moment for the other was vengeful, and may go his way.

“Ay, my lord,” Laertes nodded before looking at Claudius. “So you will not o’errule me to a peace?”

“To thine own peace. If he is now returned, as checking at his voyage, and that he means. No more to undertake it, I will work him to an exploit, now ripe in my device, under which he shall not choose but fall.” Claudius had signed the ‘non-intervention’ clause.

“And for his death, no wind of blame shall breathe, but even his mother shall uncharge the practice and call it an accident,” Claudius spoke on behalf of the other.

“My lord, I will be ruled by you, the rather if you could devise it so that I might be the organ.” Laertes was willing to be the tool that Claudius could make use of.”

Claudius breathe ina relief. His audience was for him. He felt the ovation for his act. A good act deserves it, but the actor must be humble. There were always the returning acts that he needed them.

“You have been talked of since your travel much,” Claudius pushed to change the subject matter. “And that in Hamlet’s hearing, for a quality wherein they say you shine. Your sum of parts did not together pluck such envy from him as did that one, and that, in my regard, of the unworthiest siege.”

A little prodding to the younger man despite his feats, he still yield less of one compared to Hamlet.

“What part is that, my lord? We have our plays and audiences. We never met or perform in the same town or city.”

“Narry of that. I heard of yours, and my salutations to your performances.” Claudius was careful in his praise. “So young and talented. A very ribbon in the cap of youth— I had wished when I was of your age. Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes the light and careless livery that it wears Than settled age his sables and his weeds, importing health and graveness.”

“Two months since here was a gentleman of Normandy. I have seen myself, and served against, the French,
And they can well on horseback, but this gallant had witchcraft in ’t. He grew unto his seat, nd to such wondrous doing brought his horse as had he been endorsed and demi-natured with the brave beast. So far he topped my thought that I am in forgery of shapes and tricks. Come short of what he did.”

“A Norman was ’t?” Laertes asked. He was taken in by the mention of another.

“A Norman indeed.”

“Upon my life, Lampard is his name.” Laertes knew the man. “I know him well. He is the brooch indeed
And gem of all the nation.”

“He confessed to me. He gave you such a masterly report for art and exercise in your defense, and your foil most especially in the age yours; a rarity of the youth to hold a foil when a pistol was the gem.”  Claudius took the trail to lay the trap.

“He cried out ’ would be a sight indeed if one could match you. The ’scrimers of their nation he swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye if you opposed them. Sir, this was his report.” Claudius waited for the applaud then.

“He overly praised me there, my Emperor.” Laertes humbly declined.

“It did on Hamlet so envenom with his envy that he could nothing do,” Claudius told the other. “He has you your eyes, speed, and strength.” Claudius bow his head and sighed. “Now out of this—”

 “What out of this, my lord?: Laertes asked.

“Laertes, was your father dear to you? Or are you like the painting of sorrow, a face without a heart?” Claudius wants to know if the other was genuine in his grief.

“Why ask you this?”

“Not that I think you did not love your father, Claudius picked at his words. “You were away most times. But I know love is begun by time. And that I see, in passages of proof, time qualifies the spark and fire of it.”

“There lives within the very flame of love.” Claudius smiled. “I had not a son of my own, but I had seen that in you. A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it, And nothing is at a like goodness still; we should do when we would; for this “would” changes.”

“You are an actor. Recall these lines from Macbeth. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. Act 5 Scene 5.”

“I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, Act 1 Scene 7.” Laertes hit back. “My ambition now is for my father’s honor/”

“Good on your soul. Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake to show yourself indeed your father’s son more than in words?” Claudius struck the nail into the coffin there.

“If that was to be done, I will cut his throat in the church,” Laertes affirmed his vow of vengeance. Unknown to many, Laertes despised the young Hamlet. He was the son of the King, and held the wealth of Norway, a rival of his acting fame, and his unrequited love for Ophelia, the one whom he felt was undeserving. If Hamlet was gone, his path would be paved with success.

 

 

Hamlet; the Noir Adaption 2023 Act 4 Scene 7 Sub Scene 1

 Act Four

Act Four Scene Seven

Sub Scene One

Persuasion of the persuasive

Acting is to deliver the character's personality to the audience. It needs persuading most times. The better ones learned this as their skill. Grossly, it may take the form of seduction. Just as in writing here.

Claudius offered the glass of wine to Laertes when they were seated in the main library in the castle. There were four libraries in the castle, but the one where they were seated was the biggest, and filled with a huge collection of playwrights, both ancient and new to the unpublished ones. The King was always approached by aspiring playwrights to review and if possible to take up their plays. Most times, these playwrights get the attention of the aide of the Great Chamberlain who will receive them. However, the Great Chamberlain was an earnest reader of writes and never fails to peruse them.

Or snatched some ideas from some of the better ones.

“Behold, Laertes. Your father’s domain is here. His writes are among the greats here.” Claudius praised the dead man. “Most times, I find him perched on the rails there, reading and thinking.”

“The Great Chamberlain was ever the man you look for in the write. His words could bring the bird to your hands, or the dead to turn in their grave.”

“Pardon me there. He was such an inspiration.” Claudius played his words.

“My emperor, I am …I do understand my father well though I was away most times.” Laertes was an actor. “You need not …patronize him.”

“No, I was not. I was telling you the truth as a …. Personal close friend. Now must your conscience hold my acquittance seal, and you must put me in your heart for a friend too.” Claudius look with care toward Laertes. The latter is an actor, and he hid his real emotions well.

“Sith you have heard and with a knowing ear, that he which hath your noble father slain”, Claudius paused his words. He did it to emphasize the next line. “Now he pursued my life. Accusing me of …murder.”

“It well appears. I had heard from the …learned friends.” Laertes was careful to reveal his friends. At that moment, he trusts no one from Norway. “But tell me why you proceeded not against these feats?”

“So, criminal and so capital in nature, as by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else, you mainly were stirred up.” Laertes also knows that Claudius had not acted on it.

“O, for two special reasons”, Claudius looked away. “Not many knew of my predicament which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed.”

“But yet to me, they’re strong to counter alone.” Claudius drew on the sympathy that he faced obstacles.

“The Madam, his mother lives almost by his looks”, Claudius dragged his words there. He knew Laertes did not have his mother with him when growing up. He was weaned off early but she still yearn for him. As for myself….”

“She is so conjunctive to my life and soul. I had known her long, and during her days with the King, but we are two personalities in nature. Like how the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her.” Claudius tried to frame his relationship as complicated.

“The other motive why to a public count I might not go to is the great love the general gender bear for Hamlet. He is the Prince, adored and loved whose dips all his faults in their affection, work like the spring that turneth wood to stone, convert his gyves to graces, so that my arrows, too slightly timbered for so loud a wind, would have reverted to my bow again, but not where I have aimed them.” It was Claudius' words to make him the underdog in the competition for love there.

“It’s like Brutus’ speech to his audience. Good and noble reasons to kill Caesar for the Emperor was too ambitious and he would enslave the Romans if he lived.” Laertes confront Claudius. “But your lack of action caused me a father and maybe even my sister.”

“I will stand to it. I will have my vengeance.” Laertes dismissed Claudius' lack of action.

“Break not your nights of sleep for that. You must not think that we are made of stuff so flat and dull that we can let our beard be shaken with danger.” Claudius is agitated being told of his restraints for Hamlet. “I am my man, and unafraid. Place your trust in me. You shortly shall hear more.”

“I hope.” Laertes unconvinced of Claudius words.

“I loved your father, and we love ourselves well. It hurts me so unimaginable to lose him in such a fashion, my action will be seen.” Claudius sighed then. “Any form of death was imaginable but never that.”

“Bear with me, and think wide and deep, let your imagination unrestraint…” Claudius looked for the explanation to give to Laertes, but he was unsure of how to invite time and an open mind.

It was that he was saved by the servant.