The best hiding space I could find was under the stairs that lead to the lobby. I blink back guilty tears as I cut the old man's body into chunks and place them carefully under the stone steps. I wish I could have loved you as another father…And I am sorry.
Immediately upon entering the throne room I hear the shouts of guards, courtiers, servants, "Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! My lord!" as the light of several torches pervades the darkness. Tis' far too late to go back.
He left me standing in the hallway.
He left me standing in the hallway! After kissing me with so much passion it left me dizzy with bliss and chilled to the bone from his touch. After killing my own father! I stood in the place where he left me for quite a long time, shocked at what had just past. Till finally the commotion that had taken hold of the entire castle snaps me out of my reverie. "Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! My lord!" several voices yell.
"Toying, teasing man!" I remark aloud. I need answers.
I race to the throne room where I see Hamlet being held by several burly guards. "Hamlet!" I scream. "HAMLET!" I race toward him only to be grabbed by another burly guard who pins my arms to my sides. "HAMLET!" I shake and struggle, but to no avail. The guard will not release me from his grasp. "Hamlet!" I fall on my knees in tears, the screams I had locked firmly inside of me being finally set free. I wail, I moan, I pound at my heart, till suddenly my vision is blurred and my body is weak, and I faint, falling unconscious onto the hard marble floor.
"Hamlet!" she screams. "HAMLET!" The guard holds her tighter. "HAMLET!"
My soul shudders at the sound of Ophelia's desperate wails. But I can do nothing for her as the guards lead me away. They hold me tightly, but I am able to glance back into the throne room just in time to see her fall to the ground. My skin turns white with fear, but I firmly press my lips together, forcing myself to rein in my emotions. I say a silent prayer that all will be well before being thrown into my uncle-father-cousin-king's office, the guards leaving me with Guildenstern, the damned traitor.
"Now Hamlet," the high and mighty King Claudius growled, "where's Polonius?" I will not allow him the peace of a sensible answer. Until I can exact my revenge on him for murdering my father, I want to burden him with the most confusing replies I can conjecture.
I give him an impish grin as I raise one brow and answer, "At supper."
At this Claudius looks so confused I could burst out laughing right here. "At supper where?" he asks cautiously.
I chuckle with delight. Show time.
"Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him." Claudius glares at me in rage, and I continue in an authoritative tone. "Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots." At each use of the word "fat" I give him a hard poke in his big gut. "Your fat - " Another poke. "king and your lean beggar is but variable service - two dishes but to one table." Claudius now stares at me coldly, waiting for me to go on with my subtle insults.
"That's the end," I assure him with a smile.
"Alas, alas!" Claudius moans as he paces about the floor with his hand on his temple. I take his words of distress as a delightful invitation to make him even more upset.
"A man may fish with a worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm," I carry on as if reciting a nursery rhyme.
"What dost thou mean by this?"
I stare at Claudius in a way that would surely burn a hole through his skull as I reply, "Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar."
He quickly returns my heated stare as he places a firm hand strongly on my shoulder. "Where…is…Polonius?" I hurriedly roll my shoulder to shrug off his hand. I cannot stand his touch. It is cold and hard, the touch of a murderer. I only for a moment allowed myself to remember that I, too, am a murderer now.
After leaving the bastard in anxiety for a satisfactory amount of time, I answer, "In heaven. Send hither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself."
This made Claudius's face turn to the complexion of a rotten tomato, so angry was he, giving me an undeserved amount of pleasure. However, I know I should not let my enjoyment of this spectacle over rule Polonius's need for a decent burial. So with regret I add, "But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you…go up the stairs into the lobby."
Claudius now bears a look of such smug satisfaction as I cannot bear to look upon as he sends some attendants to seek out Polonius's body. This will not do.
As one last jibe at the King's patience, I stop the attendants with my hand before they exit. My words are directed at them, but I look at Claudius as I say in a sarcastic tone, "He will stay till you come."
My remark earned some slight laughter from the attendants, till Claudius's cold glare silenced them and they left the room to seek out my murder victim.
"Hamlet," says Claudius after they were gone, "this deed, for thine especial safety - which we do tender as we dearly grieve for that which thou hast done - must send thee hence with fiery quickness. Therefore prepare thyself, the bark is ready and the wind at help, th' associates tend, and everything is bent for England." This entire declaration was pointless. I know very well that he does not tender my "especial safety" as he called it, as well as I know that I am being sent to England.
I answer him with counterfeit shock. "For England?" I say with a dramatic gasp.
"Ay, Hamlet."
"Good."
"So is it," he says as he gestures for me to leave his office, "if thou knew'st our purposes."
I slowly begin to leave him, finding the door without my eyes. "I see a cherub that sees them. But come," I suddenly jump back towards him, "for England."
"Farewell, dear mother," I finish with a hug and wet kiss on his cheek. He quickly pushes me away from him.
"Thy loving father, Hamlet," says he in an irritated tone.
"Ah, ah, ah, my mother." I vigorously wag my finger but one inch from his face.
"Father and mother is man and wife, man and wife is one flesh," I say in a squeaky, boyish voice, "and so, my mother - " I give him another unwanted kiss before releasing him and walking toward the exit. I slam the double doors open with a flourish as the grand finale.
"Come," I end with a polished bow, "for England!"