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Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 1

Disclaimer- Hey, that would be a miracle wouldn't it if I were really an old dead Englishman come back to life, wouldn't it? SO before anyone gets any conspiratorial ideas, let just say now that I am not Shakespeare, nor do I own any of his works. If I did I would be a very happy person indeed.

A/N- Yea, so I was given an A.P English assignment to do on Hamlet. And this is it. I am novelizing Shakespeare's play, from Polonius' point of view. So here goes. Any input would be wonderful, that way I have advice on how to make it better for my teacher.

As Polonius hid behind the curtains in the tower he fidgeted. He was spying on the three guards on the wall below him, so naturally he was looking out the window; old as he was it was not good for him to be out of doors during the chilly Danish nights. The problem was, he was not spying conventionally, he was standing behind the curtains, yes, but his back was to the door and the room and all its polished furniture lay sprawled behind him. He was exposed in the open room, not pressed up against a cold stone wall breathing in the musty scent of heavy curtains, listening to courtly goings-on.

Polonius glanced behind him, checking for the hundredth time that there was no one with him in the darkened room. Turning back to the window, he frowned. He despised being out in the open like this, but even he, Polonius the bumbling fool, was not fool enough to stand in front of the curtain he needed for cover.

Somewhere off in the distance a bell tolled the hour, eleven o'clock. Polonius jumped at the sound. He had been up here for nearly an hour already and the three guards below him were still up to nothing. Growing bored, Polonius let his mind wander.

Polonius chuckled to himself after a bit. For some reason something his deceased, nameless, and long-since-forgotten wife had once said to him popped into his head. One day while he had been spying on her as she got dressed in the morning, she had caught him. And she had irritably informed him that he must have been a rat in a past life. Polonius did not know what had brought that thought to his attention, but he realized that she had been right. He did not feel right if he wasn't hiding, or at least up against some kind of wall.

From the same somewhere in the distance the bell tolled midnight, bringing Polonius out of his reverie. Seconds later the sound of a male scream, this sound much closer, drew his attention down to the wall and the three guards.

The guards were backed up against the crenellations, huddled together and cowering. Polonius did not see whatever it was they were cowering from, but he thought contemptuously of them. Then, from the shadows, emerged another figure. This one was tall and gracefully built. He had a regal air to him that took Polonius a moment to place. It was the Heir, Hamlet, son of Hamlet and Gertrude.

Polonius was suddenly very glad he had not given up as he watched the figure of Hamlet approach whatever it was the guards were cowering from. He followed the direction Hamlet was looking with his eyes, but he saw nothing. Searching harder, Polonius noticed a faint glimmer in a patch of shadow.

Hamlet quickened his pace, but Polonius was still watching the patch where he had seen the glimmer. Movement seen from the corner of his eye attracted him. He saw it clearly for only a moment, but a moment was all that was needed. Polonius gasped, Hamlet was following the ghost of his father, the King.

For a moment Polonius fancied himself mad, but he quickly remembered the cowering guards and Hamlet's pursuance of the specter. The specter! He looked again, but both Hamlet and his father's likeness had disappeared.

Polonius ran to the other windows searching for a sign of the Prince or the ghost, but there was none to be found. He cursed himself for his choice of hiding place, from up here in the tower he could not hear clearly, if at all, what transpired below him moments ago. He took one last look out the window that overlooked the guard's platform, but even they too had gone now.

Resigned, he left the tower. Perhaps he should inform the King that apparitions were haunting the noble castle of Ellsinore. Or perhaps not, the new king would not be pleased to be disturbed at this hour and perhaps the incident was nothing at all. Perhaps, in his old age he was growing paranoid. Yes, he would wait and see what came out of it before rushing off to Claudius with stories of ghosts. Polonius grinned to himself in the darkness; this meant more spying in order to discover the truth.

Thus resolved the old man headed for his bed, and some well earned rest.

A/N- Yeah, so nobody get mad at me. This is for an A.P English class of mine, and it has to be done one week after Cold Time Break is over. So I gotta bust my ass to get it done. I'll post it as often as I can, and I'll revise it later so that it's better. But for right now I'm going for something I can turn in.