Chapter 4: The Players
'Why? How is Prince Hamlet insane?' asked Rose, looking extremely concerned.
'He was acting strangely at breakfast,' I said. 'He was moody one minute, and bright and cheerful the next. Even Horatio didn't know what was wrong.'
'You don't think it's about – ' Rose started, but I silenced her at once with a look. I promised Horatio I would not tell anyone else about that event. Fortunately, Ophelia did not notice for she was still crying.
'What did he do to you, friend?' I asked. Ophelia gulped and started her story.
'I was sewing in here when Hamlet burst in, looking as white as his shirt and wild. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up from my stool. He said nothing but stared at my face for a long time, examining each part of it, as if he was going to draw a picture of it. His gaze frightened me, for I have never stared so long into someone's eyes like that. Then he let go of me, and backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving my face.'
That was probably the most I ever heard her say before without stopping. She looked down at her shaking hands.
'I know it does not sound scary, but I am so ashamed, as if I've done something to provoke this wild behaviour. Maybe ignoring the prince was the wrong thing to do.'
Ophelia breathed heavily and flopped backwards onto the bed.
'I'm going to tell Father.'
'No, don't!' I warned her at once. 'He'll make a huge fuss about it, like he always does.'
'But 'tis strange, Julia, that Prince Hamlet did that,' Rose pondered. 'I would tell your father, Ophelia. He may find out what the matter is with him.'
Ophelia nodded, sat up and glided out of the room.
Rose turned to me, but before she could say anything, there was a fanfare. We flung open the large window and peered out.
The players were coming! I love watching them act and they come each year to perform at Elsinore. Surely this will raise Hamlet's mood and he'll become distracted in their performances, instead of dwelling on other thoughts.
I saw Horatio and Hamlet greeting them earnestly.
Lady Helga then came bustling in, almost dragging me away from the sight so I could help her mend one of the many tapestries hanging on the grey castle walls.
It was dull and tedious work, so I shall not go into detail about it. My thoughts were only on the players and Hamlet and Ophelia… and Horatio.
Lady Helga told me to stop day dreaming when I pricked my finger twice on the needle because I was staring out of the window. I longed to be set free from the stuffiness of the room and to escape to the battlements or garden – somewhere I don't have to do any needlecraft.
We stopped before supper and I enjoyed being in the presence of other people again. I was ravenously hungry too.
I was so tired, but I caught a glance of the players talking to Hamlet. I did not really hear what he wanted them to perform, but I caught snatches of words. I can't remember them now. But I'm so tired now. And confused. Why is Hamlet behaving like this? Is it to do with the ghost I saw? What will Polonius say when Ophelia tells him what happened? I hope he won't exaggerate the whole thing. I don't want Hamlet to be in danger of ending up in a lunatic asylum.
