Chapter 2: The King, Your Father

In the great and drafty halls of Elsinore's castle, King Claudius strolled arm in arm with his wife, the Queen Gertrude. Following where his councillors: Voltimond, Cornelius, Polonius, and Polonuis's son Laertes.

Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, followed in the rear, dressed all in black and watching his uncle's back darkly. He was a man of regular height, in his mid-twenties, with curly brown hair and dark green, shrewd eyes. These past two months had been the darkest of his young life and yet it seemed to him that the pain of losing his father had not dulled with time but intesified. His heart was an open wound, a constant ache that pained him everytime he breathed.

As comfort, Hamlet had written often to Ophelia and visited her as she knitted beside the warm fire. In his grief, Ophelia's love had been a refuge, her smile like a ray of sunlight warming his dark and weary heart. He could tell anything to Ophelia, anything at all. They'd known each other all of their lives and had grown up childhood friends. He coud still remember that bittersweet day when he'd left for school in Wittenburg. She had cried through her laughter at his departure and sent him many fervent, tear-stained letters during his education.

His reunion with Ophelia was the one good thing about Hamlet's trip back to Elsinore.

Hamlet was thinking of Ophelia now as the king came to a stop, turning to adress his court. His state business complete, Claudius sent Voltimond and Cornelius on their way hence forth to Norway with a message for its king.

". . . and now," continued Claudius, stroking his short gray beard, "young Laertes, what is this news you speak of? You blather about some suit or other until you lose your voice. You haven't any need to beg, my boy. What do you ask of me?"

"Your leave that I may return to France, my lord," answered Laertes eagerly. "All my thoughts and wishes bend toward it!"

"What says your father? Polonius?" boomed the king.

"He has my blessing," answered the king's short, bent old councillor. "I do beseech thee, sire, to give him leave."

"Then go, Laertes, with my blessing," the king answered and Laertes beamed at his father. "And now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son -- "

"More kin and less kind," Hamlet muttered grimly.

"How is it the clouds have not parted?" Claudius boomed, grinning. "Tis two months since thy father's great misfortune," he said, putting on a grave face, "and you sulk around still, cloaked in such a deep black as would flatter night!"

"Good Hamlet," said the Queen gently and laid a hand of concern on her son's arm, "do not go on forever so. All that live must die -- it is a common fate for all men, passing through nature into eternity.

"Aye, madam, it is common," Hamlet said in a low voice, his eyes averted.

"Why do you seem so particular?" the Queen begged, frowning desperately at her melonchly son.

Particular! Hamlet thought in disgust, as if his father were a veggetable on his plate that he was loath to eat! Particular! as if the late king's death had been a trifling thing! He looked at Claudius's grave expression and knew the man was studying him.

"Seems!" Hamlet spat moodily, staring at his mother as if he hardly recognized her. "Seems, madam? Nay, I do not seem, but I am. Wearing black is but at action that a man may make before all men's eyes . . ." and here his eyes lingered darkly on the king, who stared hard inturn at his nephew. "But my actions express from within what is only begetting after two month's grievance: the suit of woe."

"Ah, it is your nature to be so sweet and pay your father such honor," prompted Claudius, heaping on the flattery with narrowed, calculating eyes. If Hamlet suspected him, it was best he kept the boy close to his heart and in his favor."But, Hamlet, as your mother says: death is a common thing. You lost a father, and that father also lost his, and so it must go on."

"Aye, I look forward to that cycle repeating itself, Father," Hamlet muttered under his breath derisively.

Claudius blinked angrily, "What did you say, my cousin?" And when Hamlet did not answer, "Hamlet, we do beseech you -- do not return to school in Wittenburg but remain here, our son."

"I pray thee," added the Queen in earnest, "let it be so?" Her long pale fingers clawed at Hamlet's sleeve as if to make sure he was real, "I would miss you so . . . were you to leave again . . ." Her lip trembled and she bit it to hide the show of emotion from her husband.

"I shall do my best to obey you, madam," Hamlet answered a little coldly, and the Queen stared at him, stung. Hamlet, feeling guilty, looked her in the eye and managed a small smile, beneath which she seemed to melt and smiled in turn.

"A loving and a fair reply," boomed Claudius as Gertrude embraced Hamlet's stiffened body in her thin arms. "Your kindness to your mother siteth well on my heart. Come, madam, away." He gently untangled Gertrude from Hamlet's grasp.

Gertrude composed herself and smiled through the shimmer of rising tears in her blue eyes. She was a fair, very pale woman, thin and middle-aged like her king. Her hair was long and dirty blonde, trailing when it was loose down the back of her knees. Though her late husband had only been deceased for two months, she was dressed as festively as if Claudius had always been her king, and strolled away with him now, clinging to his arm and laughing.

Hamlet watched them go, his teeth set as Claudius carressed the back of one of his mother's small ears.

"Oh god!" Hamlet roared suddenly, banging the flat of his fist on the wall. "God! God! How weary and flat, how dismal is all the world when ones uncle becomes ones father and ones mother becomes like unto a stranger! Who is she that walks now on my uncle's arm, laughing as if all were well? Cares she not for her husband -- her real husband? Cares she not for her son!" He struck the wall again and pressed his eyes to his fist, silently crying in a private moment of anger and pain.

"Off and married in as little as a month! And my father?" whispered Hamlet in a low growl, raising his head as his uncle and his mother turned from the long stone corridor into the sunlight. "My father? Forgotten by her as quickly as last night's desert! By heaven and earth, what incest is this, that she should love my father's brother so? Gaveth she ever an eye of favor to him before?" Hamlet wondered aloud, and paused as he tried to recall any strange behavior between his mother and his uncle in the brief visits he had given Elsinore during his schooling.

"Hail to your lordship!"

Hamlet turned, and a smile broke through the tears on his face: Horatio was appraoching with two guardsmen. He recognized them as Bernardo and young Marcellus.

Horatio, tall and dark, raised his hand in greeting and beamed at Hamlet. "How now, brother?" he said, laughing, as he and Hamlet clasped hands. He noticed with a frown of concern the dried tears on Hamlet's face, "Who has been plaguing my lord? I will take care of them -- "

"Wait, wait," laughed Hamlet, wiping his face and grabbing Horatio's arm to stop him charging off. "My vexor is none that you can plague, dear Horatio. But come, what came you for? I am glad to see you are well."

"And I you," Horatio answered sincerely.

"Marcellus?" said Hamlet, squinting as if he'd only just noticed the guardsmen, "Bernardo? Came you out of thin air?"

The guardsmen laughed.

"But what, in faith, drew you from Wittenburg?" Hamlet asked Horatio yet again. "Come now, Horatio, playing hooky doesn't much suit you! And to think, I never would have pegged you for a truant."

"You drew me, of course, my lord," said Horatio in mild astonishment, as if Hamlet should have guessed as much. "I came to see your father's funeral -- and to support my lord and brother, of course."

Hamlet chuckled, "Do not mock me -- you came to see my mother's wedding."

"It loomed soon upon the funeral, didn't it?" said Horatio grimly. "Rather hurried, I thought."

"Ah, thrift! Thrift! You came for succulent pies and pastes, baked meat and foamy beer, did you not?" joked Hamlet.

Horatio laughed but asked with an indignant frown, "Do you question my friendship, brother?"

"Never," Hamlet replied. "But I would I met my dearest foe in heaven than ever have witnessed that day, Horatio! Sometimes . . . I think I see my father . . ."

"My lord?" Horatio asked uncertainly.

"In my mind's eye, I mean," explained Hamlet.

"I saw him once. He was a good king," Horatio said, gazing off as if in his own reverie, and he and the guardsmen shivered. No, he'd seen the late king twice: once in life, once in death.

"My lord . . ." began Horatio uncertainly, then cleared his throat and went on, "my lord, I think I saw him yesternight -- we saw him."

Hamlet looked up quickly, "Saw who?"

"My lord, the king your father."

There was a pause as Hamlet stared at the men, his mouth open, then he frowned and asked angrily, "The king, my father? Do you mock me?"

The guardsmen gasped and shook their heads quickly.

"No, brother, in all honesty, we saw the king, your father," said Horatio firmly. "Be still your anger and wonder and attend to our story . . ."

"For the love of god, tell me!" strained Hamlet, his eyes suddenly wide and alert.

Horatio related to Hamlet in greatest detail the appearance and reappearance of the late king's spirit on the battlements. The guardsmen jumped in at different places, adding their own details, and thus, the whole tale was delivered to Hamlet, who listened to all of it in grim wonder, a chill running up his spine.

"And did you speak to it?" Hamlet wanted to know.

"My lord, I did, but it made no answer," replied Horatio helplessly. "Just before dawn, it raised its head and frowned as if it would speak -- "

"Then the cock crowed and it vanished!" added Marcellus, nodding.

". . . .Tis all very strange . . . ." muttered Hamlet, frowning into the distance.

"Upon my life, every word of it is true," said Horatio seriously.

"Hold you the watch tonight?" Hamlet asked with sudden animation.

"We do, my lord," answered Bernardo and Marcellus.

"I will watch with you tonight, and perchance it shall return," Hamlet told them.

"I doubt it not," confirmed Horatio, "when it has walked the earth two nights previous."

"I'll speak to this apparition though hell itself should open beneath it! Upon the battlements, between eleven and twelve, I'll visit you."

"Our duty to your honor," said the guardsmen, bowing.

"And mine," said Horatio, smiling and giving Hamlet a small bow.

Hamlet nodded, "Your love's as mine to you. Farewell."

Horatio clapped Hamlet on the shoulder and the men departed.

"My father's spirit!" Hamlet whispered to himself in great consternation. "All can not be well. I doubt it not foul play is involved: would that it were night already! Be still weary heart! I shall see my father again this night!"