To Queen Gertrude,
I do pray for your assistance I fear for my life and your sons if mine brother, revenge-obsessed Laertes, were ever to hear of this news. But I must confide in you, for I know not of anything nor anyone who will help me. O my brain is a whirlwind with unmerciful, unceasing gusts of emotion. I canst think clearly and I pray you heed your wisdom from your kind soul.
Hath my lord ever spoke kindly of me? He hath not spoken one word of kindness to mine ear of late, his words are rapiers thrusting with never-ending blows. In mines eye I see him, I see my gentle lord. The rosemary it must be the rosemary, and the pansies for I remember the first warm day of spring. Hamlet and I dashed to the gardens. We lain in the sweet grass taking in heat from the sun, he placed a daisy in my golden locks and said I was beautiful. The nightingale that sung so sweetly that night, 'tis still in mine ear. O Hamlet, his love shined brighter than any star that night. We lain within a most lustrous bed of passion and love. He did love me, he told me never to doubt it. Past the venomous shell of his heart it's there, his honest feelings are there. He hath made tenders of my affection that night, and I gave to him my chaste treasures. But my eyes canst see the man within the beast for they are one in the same.
"Before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed."
"So would I ha'done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed."
My brother warned me of the dangers of desire. My brother, ne'er a man as good as he. Though now his disguise prevents his true nature to show, as does mine I suppose. The warnings the cautions, words that fell on deaf ears. I did not disobey for I followed my heart. All the violets died before my father did.
They are dead and gone, lady,
They are dead and gone.
My father, my brother good men in their own ways. Were it not the majestic bird lock'd in the cage? Was I not the same bird? But I escaped, I escaped and sung sweet songs with my lord and the nightingale. Your majesty, I am carrying the future King of Denmark. 'Tis male for Apollo hath shown me.
O your highness, thy virtuous queen, I pray you speak with him the goodness of this news. Please speak to Hamlet, tell himthe line of the kingdom will go on. I picked chrysanthemum flowers for you, it's for friendship. There's some forget-me-not's for Hamlet. I pray he remembers. That he remembers we are bound to one another.
I do beseech you make haste, your majesty.
Ophelia
