Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are... Very Much Alive, Actually.


[Disclaimer: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, as portrayed here, are characters of Tom Stoppard. The Attendant's lines are quoted directly from Shakespeare. I fully acknowledge that the real ending to Mr. Stoppard's play is infinitely better than mine. The following scene is simply a "what-if" scenario. What if Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hadn't really been killed? I would appreciate comments from anyone who has read the play (or seen it) and can offer me any comments on how well I've recreated the characters. All comments, especially bad ones, are much appreciated! ~M ]

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The scene opens in almost total darkness and remains so until further directions are given. There should be just enough light for the audience to be able to see, vaguely, the impressions of the two actors on stage.

ROSENCRANTZ (musingly): So this is it, then. Darkness. (a pause) This is it...

GUILDENSTERN: Rosencrantz? Is that you?

ROS (startled): Ho, Guildenstern!

GUIL (relieved): It is you!

ROS: Where are we?

GUIL: Here, obviously. (A forced chuckle; but his attempt at levity goes unnoticed or ignored by ROS.)

ROS: I thought we were dead?

GUIL: Are we?

ROS: Aren't we?

GUIL: Don't you know?

ROS: Don't you?

GUIL: Foul! No repetitions. One - love.

A long pause.

GUIL: Rosencrantz? (There is no answer) Guildenstern? (Still none. Good pause.) Damn your hands! Say something!!

ROS (near tears): I want to go home...

GUIL (more calmly): Me too... Are you close to me?

ROS (panicky): I don't know! Where are you?!

GUIL: Shh ... calm down. Put your hand out.

ROS: I feel ... something hard and cold...

GUIL: Yes; I think it's rock. Maybe we're in a... cave ... or something...

ROS (bitterly): I had hoped death wouldn't be so cold... And I suppose a little light would have been nice. (A pause) Guildenstern?

GUIL: Yes, yes, I'm coming... There!

ROS: Oh!

GUIL: Is that you?

ROS: Yes!

GUIL: What part of you?

ROS: I think it's my leg. It's hard to tell when everything looks and feels the same...

GUIL: Well that proves we're not dead, anyway.

ROS: Then what are we? Where are we?? (Shrill panic finds its way into his voice again.) I want to go home! (He sobs quietly.)

GUIL (gently): Shh... Come here.... no, closer... Now, I'm here... We'll be all right, just stay with me...

Pause in dialogue. Guildenstern murmurs a low, quiet song until Rosencrantz speaks again, calmer but still obviously afraid.

ROS: A Chinese emperor once dreamed he was a butterfly. From that day he was never quite sure that he wasn't really just a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese emperor...

GUIL (musingly): Do you remember that once someone told us to simply relax and respond, because questioning the situation at every turn is no way to get through life; and trusting in the truth of things is all we have to go on, even if it is all just a dream?

ROS: No... Besides, I don't know how to respond. Not to this, anyway.

GUIL: That's because you're not relaxed. Now let's both calm down and see if we can think of something.

(Pause)

Oh, I know -- can you see anything?

ROS: No. You?

GUIL: No. Are your eyes open?

ROS: Yes ... no... I don't know. Are yours?

GUIL: I don't know.

ROS (sarcastic): That was helpful.

GUIL: But there must be a way to find out!

(Pause)

ROS: All right; give me your hands.

GUIL: You've got them already.

ROS: Oh, have I?... So I have. Good. Now... Here, are these your shoulders?

GUIL: They seem to be what I remember my shoulders feeling like.

ROS: Quite round?

GUIL: Indeed.

ROS: Good. Find mine.

GUIL: ......Here. Is this right?

ROS: Seems to be where I remember my shoulders feeling.

GUIL: Quite level with mine?

ROS: Quite.

GUIL: Good... Now what?

ROS (hesitating): Now... I think ... from here... You find my head, and I'll find yours.

GUIL: And then?

ROS: I'll find your eyes, and you find mine, and see if they're open.

GUIL: And if they're not?

ROS: Well, we open them.

GUIL: And if they are?

(Pause)

ROS: Then ... it's your turn to think of something.

GUIL: All right... Ready?

ROS: No... I mean... I think so.

GUIL: All right then.

(A good pause.)

GUIL: Guildenstern?

ROS: What?

GUIL: Rosencrantz?

ROS: What??

GUIL (chuckling): You're hopeless.

ROS: I know.

GUIL: Have you found them?

ROS: Found what? --Oh! Your eyes?

GUIL: Clever boy...

ROS: Yes. Have you found mine?

GUIL: Yes. Are they open?

ROS: Your eyes, you mean? (GUIL sighs audibly.) No. Are mine?

GUIL: No...

(Pause)

GUIL: Well... I suppose we'd better open them, then?

ROS: Yes, I suppose so...

GUIL: On the count of three...

ROS: Right.

GUIL: Ready?

ROS: Nothing else left to do, is there?

GUIL: I suppose not.

ROS: Okay.

GUIL (nervously): Okay... One... Two.... Three!

Spotlight on ROS and GUIL, who are frozen and kneeling centre stage on what appears to be a piece of paved road, each with the other's face cupped in his hands. As they continue, unmoving, the voice of an ATTENDANT echoes through the surrounding darkness, sounding far-away, like a distant memory of something never experienced.

VOICE-OVER: The sight is dismal;
and our affairs from England come too late.
The ears are senseless that should give us hearing
to tell him his commandments are fulfilled,
that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.

ROS and GUIL unfreeze; lower their hands and embrace, then shift into more comfortable positions. The voice of the ATTENDANT fades into quiet sounds of a busy city street. Barely audible are hints of children screaming, vendors advertising their wares, people laughing or arguing, perhaps a dog barks. A band plays softly.

ROS: Now what?

GUIL: Now ... we go home!

ROS: Not to Denmark, though?

GUIL: Nor to England!

ROS: Where, then?

GUIL: Relax. Respond. Don't ask.

ROS: But ... we've got nothing...

GUIL: We've got eternity.

Pause. A slight change in ROS's countenance as the realization dawns on him.

ROS: Why, so we've got! ... And you, my friend are all I need.

GUIL: Give us this day our daily deed.

ROS: Eternity is all we've got.

GUIL: Give us this day...

ROS: Give us this day.

They stand and walk out of the spotlight together. Drop curtain.

FIN.