Author's Note: This is told from Gertrude's perspective.
Life Changes
by
Unknown Personality
As a girl born in sixteenth century Denmark, I was brought up to believe that men were strong and trustworthy and we, the females, must rely completely and utterly on them. I believed that because I was never given any cause to doubt it. All the men I knew, growing up, stayed more or less true to the ideal. On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, I didn't know what to expect. Would the new world I would be introduced to welcome or reject me?
I needn't have been so worried for on that day, I met the strongest, most trustworthy Danish man ever. I walked into that ballroom, shy and hesitant, cowering under the watchful eyes of the chaperones. Then, into my vision clicked two smart shoes attached to two very well-dressed legs. I looked up.
"May I have this dance?" asked the King of Denmark, King Hamlet. He bowed, offering his hand to me.
Surprised, my mind went blank for a second. Of its own volition, my body went through the routine motion of a curtsy that had been brow-beaten into me by my mother. Somehow, I was able to formulate a shaky affirmation with what little consciousness I had left and let him lead me onto the sparkling floor.
Halfway through the dance, I regained my composure and relaxed. I didn't grip his hands so hard, I laughed, I had fun. He appeared to have noticed too, for his smile got wider and the chandelier light that flickered in the recesses of his hair seemed to bathe it in a halo. I wished with my whole heart that the dance might never end for fear that his next dance partner may enchant his heart away from me.
Again, I needn't have worried. Although we changed dance partners often and we attempted to give them our utmost attention, our eyes still strayed back to the other's. At the end of the night, I learned that he had already asked my father for permission to court me. I was elated.
Our courtship lasted as long as was mandatory before the proposal. He had to respect social protocol seeing as he was King. Otherwise, we would have gotten married in a heartbeat. Still, I believe the wait made the wedding night all the more special.
We had a happy marriage. He was faithful and loving and so was I. The world was paradise with him at my side.
Just when I thought there was no way he could make me any happier, he gave me Hamlet, our beautiful baby boy. Everybody said that he was the perfect son: a combination of sweetness and strength.
Hamlet was such a good son growing up. He could have concentrated on his studies more often and less on the pretty Ophelia, but I knew that was just Hamlet being the boy that he was. He was never disruptive though. He respected his father well enough not to soil his good name. Everything was perfect.
Then news of Fortinbras' plan to attack Denmark arrived. My King had to leave to command his army. Thankfully, Hamlet was too young to be involved in military affairs. He stayed with me and kept me company during the summers. Parting with him when he left for the term at Wittenburg was such a bitter sorrow. On the other hand, it was during this lonely time that I found a friend in my brother-in-law, Claudius.
Claudius was not needed at the wars yet so he was left in charge of the kingdom's affairs. He was kind to me. He organised outings for me, kept me company and bought me the latest fashions. We became quite good friends.
I mentioned this in my letters to King Hamlet and to my son so that they may repay Claudius' benevolence. He got a promotion although not one that would make me happy. He was invited to come join the battles. I was not allowed to breathe a word of disagreement. For once, I felt annoyed being a woman. I understood that this was Hamlet's way of repaying Claudius but I still didn't like returning to the loneliness.
When my son came back for the summer, he had some very strong words for me. I couldn't understand where this fury was coming from. It appeared to have something to do with Claudius but that didn't make any sense to me. Hamlet had no reason to dislike his uncle.
It was during this oppressive summer that the most terrible news I had ever heard came: my husband had died at war. I went into shock. How could my dear husband be dead? My son, Hamlet, turned pale and shut himself into his room for the days following his father's death. He didn't even come near the grave at the funeral. He just stood and watched from afar. As Queen, I had to be brave and suffer during the torment of looking down at the peaceful but alien face of my dead husband, lying in his grave as the priest said the blessings. The only person who kept me strong during that harrowing time was Claudius. Dear, sweet Claudius. If it wasn't for him holding me still, I would have gladly jumped into the grave and be buried alive with my dear husband.
Not a week after his death, Claudius' advisors started pressurizing him into marrying me. How could they be so heartless? He said that they said that Hamlet was too young and Denmark needed a strong King to lead the army against Fortinbras. It hurt him to ask me this, he said, but he had to do his duty to his country. So I agreed, being the compassionate Queen I am. Claudius and I were soon married. When my son heard this, he flew into a rage. Now, he refuses to talk to either of us. My heart broke once when my husband died, now it broke again with my son's rejection. My friends no longer speak to me. They are disgusted with my marriage. They don't understand the duty I have as Queen. Even my lowly attendants treat me with contempt. I have been rejected by Denmark. Nobody loves me anymore, nobody except Claudius. As his wife and therefore his property, only his opinion matters.
Hamlet (c) William Shakespeare
