Enter the deceased King Hamlet.
King: A brother's murder for the crown of Denmark.
How fitting to receive the mark of Heaven
By spitting in the face of God's own commandments.
My brother knows deception if nothing else.
Underhanded scheming was his only way of securing victory. The meeker brother after his inheritance, not after the earth but merely my life. But victory will be bittersweet; he will not be allowed to sit comfortably on my throne; somehow I will have my revenge. If it takes an eternity in hell, I will wait; on the judgment day he will answer to the angels, terrible and mighty. Then I will have my infinite revenge. The pain of my death will be the sting of a bee compared to the torture he will have to endure. My brother in blood only, and that blood now boils away all relation. A stroke of luck for my wife: she can ignore the incestuous bonds that now tie her to hell. Is there no one left loyal? Is there no one left on earth who loves me still? My own brother kills me once, and my wife, whom I adored as Apollo did Daphne, murders me a second time. Yet my brother like the unfair Cupid struck a disloyal arrow into her heart and forced her to run from me with illogical repulsion. All loyal to me has been reduced to one only: my son. I retain only him to somehow carry my legacy, and with him I hold few hopes. He bears my name but not my spirit. Indeed, he is weak. I know not if he will be strong enough to face Claudius and all the treachery that lies behind that name.
How now, a gate. Intricate designs woven with molten strands of pure light; this truly must be Heaven. I had doubts of my arrival here, and still I wonder if I will be allowed to continue. But God chose me to be king. Come, angel, let God's child enter.
Appear St. Peter.
Peter: This place is not for thee.
King: Oh angel most holy,
is an unforgiven creature such as me
not allowed to tarnish the floors of heaven?
Peter: Only those who complete the tangible
Are allowed to enter through this threshold.
Your actions, done in nature, do not damn
To the depths of unnatural murder
But you are not wholly forgiven yet.
King: What weakness of conviction binds me to damnation?
Peter: The infidelity, you hypocrite.
You curse your brother yet share in the crime
And still you wonder at her willingness
To forget your sharpened features.
The Almighty will judge her as He sees
Yet you are blind to His measure of men.
Can you still take heed, king fool? Then hear this:
Worry about your own judgment, not those
Whom you consider deserve punishment.
King: You would deny my need for vengeance?
Peter: Emotions too are substantial beings.
Need is but a perception; you want
For the revenge that supersedes angels,
Your holy self, and stalls mortality.
You have yet to attain the angelic excellence.
For this to happen you must release
All things earthly and embrace the holy.
Not revenge, but clemency.
Not happiness, but fulfillment.
King: But how do I attain fulfillment of myself?
Peter: We are sending you downward towards the earth
To erase your sins and revenge your death.
King: How?
Peter: By day you will be Satan's prisoner,
Purging yourself of the unnatural.
By night you wander by your fortress
Until your son knows of your brother's sins.
King: Tell me about my son. Will he ever become king?
Peter: Your son could be king of finite Denmark,
and fulfill his blood role to his father.
But he could also rule unbounded space
For he has the mind of one who is pure,
One who sees beyond kingdoms of mortals.
He has capacity for devotion,
And that is what would make him a true king.
Yet if you burden him with your own task,
He will be neither finite nor infinite.
He will grow to be merely a mirror,
without an identity of his own.
He will reject both and obey only you.
Your blood keeps you bonded with young Hamlet.
He will bring the resolution you seek.
Are you willing to forgo his intent?
King: Yes.
Peter: So be it. The Lord hears and sees it done.
St. Peter Disappears
King: So begins my descent towards the unknown
My heir to revenge my rightful throne.
Exeunt King
End Scene.