Past and Present – A tale of Hamlet and Ophelia
A/N I do not own Hamlet and Ophelia. They belong to the great Shakespeare. I'm only playing with them.
This scene is set between Act I, Scene III and IV in Shakespeare's Hamlet and is a conversation between Hamlet and Ophelia regarding their relationship. It also features a reflection, on Ophelia's part, on their relationship.
After her conversation with her father and brother Ophelia was feeling betrayed, lost and vulnerable. As she retired to her room, she let forth tears that were previously held in. She would never make a fool of her beloved father. She would bring her family honour. With this last thought she made to confront Hamlet by writing him a letter to meet her at their "special place" under the apple trees in the castle grounds at midnight.
Ophelia stood beneath the apple tree and thought back to all the times that she had shared with her lover. Their first meeting, she was young, fifteen at most, and he a few years older. She had been staring at him whilst he had a mock sword fight with her brother. Throughout the fight his eyes darted towards her as she cheered Laertes on. At the end of the fight, when Hamlet had been pronounced the winner, he approached Ophelia, met her eyes and took the offered handkerchief. From that moment Ophelia fell in love with him. It was a secret love that she kept close to her heart.
The second time they met, Ophelia was late to a dinner arrangement with her father and brother. She walking fast-paced and ran into him. After finding her footing, she apologized and curtsied low.
"Do not worry yourself, Ophelia; our colliding was entirely my fault. Though I cannot say that I am displeased about it." He smiled at her and to Ophelia it was like looking into the sun. So bright that you have to look away for fear of ruining your eyesight.
"Sir?" Ophelia looked away from his blinding smile and at his rather substantial chest instead.
"Will you call me Hamlet, as a token of our friendship to come?" Ophelia nodded. "Now Ophelia, where were you going in such a hurry?"
Immediately she stopped gazing up at him, came to her senses, apologized again, excused herself and hurried away without answering his question.
As he watched Ophelia leave, Hamlet vowed that the next time they were alone, he would kiss her, as punishment for leaving so quickly.
Hamlet made it his duty to woo her, sending her flowers, notes and smiling directly at her whenever he saw her. Ophelia knew that this was a dangerous and illicit affair because of the repercussions on her family. If word got out that she was having secret meetings with the prince then she and her family would be disgraced and shamed, but she couldn't help herself, Ophelia knew that she was already in love with him and had been ever since he had first conversed with her. So when he asked her to meet him under the apple trees, she had indulged his request willingly. Since then she had been meeting him on a regular basis. Now her father was forbidding her to even see him.
Ophelia jerked out of her thoughts when she heard Hamlet approaching.
"My Lord." Ophelia curtsied.
Hamlet was caught off guard at her formal greeting and asked her what was wrong.
"Hamlet, my father has said that your overtures to me are deceitful. I have to ask, have you been lying to me?" Ophelia spoke with little confidence to her would-be suitor. The moonlight hid her expression.
"My dear, precious Ophelia, what do you mean?" Hamlet enquired.
She examined him for a moment before turning to gaze at the moon.
"My father believes that your motives towards me are impure and that I have been naive to think of you so highly."
At this Hamlet frowned. "Have I ever given you a motive to think such thoughts?"
He tried to meet her eyes but she continued to stare up at the moon, its light illuminating her features, making her look like an angel.
"My Lord, you have not been in the right state of mind recently and I beg of you to unburden yourself to me. I am as good as a wife to you. Have we not been as a married couple?" Ophelia replied.
"Aye Sweet, but this mission that has been granted to me is one of treachery and I must not involve you with such things for fear of you getting hurt."
At this, Ophelia turned to look straight at him. This time the night had cast a slight shadow over her delicate features.
"My Lord, I am not the child or green girl that you, my father and brother make me out to be!" Ophelia's eyes shone with anger as she delivered the end of her rant.
"Ophelia, this is none of your concern and I implore you to stop questioning me so." Hamlet frowned at Ophelia's disregard for his wishes.
"Do you love me, Hamlet?"
"What is love?"
She turned away from his again. What was love? Was love what her father and brother gave her? Control over another? If so was love a thing of obedience? She loved her father and brother, who expected her to be dutiful and submissive, so when she wasn't compliant with their wishes did that mean she did not love them?
Ophelia hesitated with her answer. "Well… I do not know, My Lord… Can you tell me?"
She waited with bated breath for his answer but none came. She turned away from "their" apple tree and looked back to where Hamlet was last standing. Or rather, was supposed to be standing. Instead he was retreating back to the Castle.
"Hamlet!" Ophelia tried to call him back but he did not answer to her calls.
Overwhelmed with grief at the loss of her beau Ophelia turned back to "their" tree and sobbed.
A/N I'm taking some creative license on ages and their realationship. This was my Senior English assignment. Thanks for reading. God Bless. X