Goodnight, sweet prince: A tale by Horatio
AN: Hello, darlings! How are you all, my readers? I understand completely that you must be pretty pissed at me for putting everything on Hiatus and being so inconsistent with uploads all the time, believe me, I am too. If I could, I would force my brain to upload little stories every day to prove my good will to you. But unfortunately, every teacher in my life and my family would have my freaking head on a silver platter if I did that. Especially now I'm under a lot of stress (again…), but this time for good reason, because I have to format a whole novel and send the manuscript to be made into my first physical book and my nerves are being fried in hot oil here… But to tell the honest truth, comments are the things that keep me going. It proves to me that people like my works and that they are worth continuing and not going dormant. So please, pretty, pretty please, leave the tiniest or longest of comments, to your heart's content, just to show that you took time to acknowledge my stories and new chapters. Not to come off as needy or something, but I was honestly thinking if I had somehow disabled comments, since you guys are usually vocal if I post something and it unsettled me to a great degree… (To all those who just clicked to have a good read, I apologize for this long personal author's note, this mainly concerns one of my bigger stories.)
Having said that, this little piece is something I came up with after having to research a Shakespearean character and making a presentation about them for school. I chose Horatio from Hamlet and somehow this was basically the end result. I'm kind of proud to say that the class was a little bit shocked when I finished… (hashtag EvilWriters, lol!)
But as I always say, enough with the blabber, thanks for listening and on with the story!
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Good evening, dear sir. I'm here to narrate you the events involving my best and closest friend, Prince Hamlet of Denmark, as was his last wish before his passing.
Before that, however, allow me to introduce myself to you. My name is Horatio. As I mentioned, I was most loyal to my dear friend, with whom I have studied philosophy in the city of Wittenberg, the place where years before, a man called Martin Luther started a whole new revolutionary movement called Protestantism. I am usually very calm and collected and down-to-earth, disapproving of things that elude logic. However, I am not at all disinclined towards romantic emotions, since deep in my heart I harboured feelings for my cherished Hamlet that, without a doubt, were more Eros than Philia. As his friend and trusted advisor, I watched out for him whenever I could. After he was so crudely stricken down by a poisoned blade, the dreadful task befell me to hold him close as he drew his last breaths on this cruel earth and leaving me with his last wish to tell the world his story. It pains me terribly to this very day and I am certain that the hole that my dear friend left will never fill until my dying day.
Now let me tell you the tragedy of Prince Hamlet of Denmark and my role in all of these accomplishments. For me it began the night I was called to the ramparts of castle Elsinore and witnessed the ghost of the deceased King Hamlet, the First. I implored him to talk to us, but it was of no use until his son saw the apparition as well and was given a message. After swearing us to secrecy about what he had heard, that the new king Claudius had murdered his brother and conned him out of throne and wife, I gave Hamlet my word to remain silent about his plans of revenge and the mask of madness he would pretend to wear. My liege had a plan to prove King Claudius' guilt, by staging a play mirroring the murder of Hamlet senior and tasked us all with watching his reaction to said play. And indeed, the plan worked, but I still had to bite my tongue. Later that evening, to the biggest of my horrors, my dear friend had somehow managed to stab Polonius through a curtain! Apparently, he must have thought that Claudius was hiding behind the curtain instead. The treacherous king sent my lord to England and I've heard nothing from him for a long time.
Until I received letters from him, narrating overseas adventures and that he would return soon. I, for shame, committed the mistake of showing them to King Claudius and I'm sure I'm partly at fault for the harrowing events that happen next. I was with Hamlet, taking a stroll through the graveyard when a procession came along to bury lady Ophelia. As far as I know, she drowned in a pond after going mad with grief for her father, Polonius. After a heated fencing battle between Hamlet and Laertes, Ophelia's brother, on the graveyard had narrowly been averted, they agreed to carry it out in the throne room. I implored my dear Hamlet to not engage in such a fight, fearing for his life. But he remained steadfast, unafraid of near certain death. I believe secretly that all the tragedies that have befallen him have ultimately claimed their tribute: Hamlet's sanity.
What happened next could possibly only be described as a living nightmare… I saw Queen Gertrude fall dead from poisoned wine, Laertes die from an envenomed sword, then Claudius, killed at last by Hamlet's vengeful blade, but also my dearest friend himself… I'm certainly more of an antique Roman than a Dane, I just yearned to drink these last drops of the deadly liquor, for how could my heart live on without this noble of a friend?! But alas, I had to promise him to live on and tell his story, so I could do nothing more than hold him in my arms while flights of angels sung him to his rest.
Among all of this tragedy, good things happened as well though, to be fair. King Hamlet's ghost was avenged and found its peace. Claudius' incestuous relationship with Gertrude ended and the looming war between Norway and Denmark was averted by Hamlet's last wish: to make prince Fortinbras the rightful next king of Elsinore Castle.
Having said all of this, it caused me to reflect on a lot of things. As I mentioned before, I bemoan some of the choices I made in the past. But perhaps most of all I regret showing this treacherous, damned Dane the letters Hamlet sent to me. Perhaps in the depth of my heart, I thought him to feel at least a glimmer of joy upon knowing his nephew was well. How wrong I was… Maybe it would have given my dear lord the chance to execute his revenge having the element of surprise on his side and that final tragedy would have never had to happen.
Oh, my noblest of friends, how much this heart pierced by Cupid burns for him! Despite being in my heart of hearts until the day I die, as every man is, he was imperfect, had his flaws. My Hamlet was both impulsive and indecisive. As much as he could be quiet, philosophical and introspective, he could also be quite hot-blooded, temperamental and impulsive. His accidental murder of Polonius shows this perfectly. But he was also indecisive. If he had taken actions right after discovering that Claudius had committed his father's murder and not waited until this usurper showed signs of guilt, so many deaths could have been avoided.
Now it's been a year since my love has departed this world. In fact, today marks the anniversary of the day I'll never be able to forget. The people of Denmark have already heard my tale, I've done as Hamlet told me. I have fulfilled my promise to him. Even as I make constant efforts to keep on living and revel in the sweetest of memories, the pain of this loss refuses to go away. I have come to the conclusion that, as I have done what I had to do, I can put an end to my sorrow with a pure conscience. I have the hemlock right beside me, every day since my darling's burial. Know that tomorrow, I will have already surrendered to Thanatos and will re-join my beloved Hamlet in heaven.
But nevertheless, I believe that everybody should know of our fate and what better way to show it than a play? That's why I will leave all of my memoirs, all of my research to you, Sir William Shakespeare, knowing that you'll be able to spread it all across the globe. Let everyone hear about the Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.
I will now bid farewell to this cruel world, in the hopes that someday it will become a better place.
Horatio
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*leaves blankets, cookies, hot chocolate and tissues in a corner* Just in case anyone needs this…
Comments are the antidote to Hamlet's poison and give life in general.
Never forget that I love you, my readers and enjoy life until next time!
Yuna McHill, author and translator