Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I do not own Hamlet.
"Reynaldo!" Polonius greeted his servant warmly. "Do come in. Do you know why I've sent for you?"
"You want me to go to France and spy on the King's son for you?" Reynaldo guessed.
Polonius glowered at him.
"Er, your son?" Reynaldo quickly amended.
"Indeed," Polonius sighed. "I have faith in the boy – don't get me wrong, I do – but he's a young man out on his own, unsupervised and he seemed just a bit too eager to leave Denmark. It's probably nothing, but if he's gotten himself into trouble, I'd like to deal with it now instead of waiting for women to start mailing me grandchildren."
"What would you have me do, sir?" Reynaldo asked.
Polonius waved his arm vaguely. "Oh you know, start spreading rumors and lies about him and see if anyone believes him, follow him around everywhere, ask everyone he knows a lot of suspicious questions…that kind of thing. I want to know what his reputation is like."
"Wouldn't doing all of that make his reputation automatically, well, awful?" Reynaldo asked, confused.
That gave Polonius pause. "Only if he's already given people a reason to doubt him," he decided.
"Whatever you say, sir," Reynaldo said dubiously before he bowed and opened the door to take his leave.
"Father!" Ophelia called urgently, pushing past her father's servant.
"Ophelia, dear, is everything alright?" Polonius asked, turning to look at his distraught daughter.
"No, it's not." Ophelia took a deep breath. "I don't think Hamlet's taking the breakup very well. I was sitting in my room when he barged in, grabbed my arm, stared at me for a while, then sighed and left. It was very disturbing."
"I see. Hamlet has been acting rather oddly lately, even by his standards. I know! He must be mad for love of you!" Polonius exclaimed.
"Well, he's certainly mad. I saw him talking to a tree yesterday," Ophelia confided. "When I asked Hamlet about it, he pretended he couldn't hear me and when I asked Horatio, he just groaned and said he needed a drink and went off to find a watchman, for whatever reason."
"I know it must be difficult, watching your ex-boyfriend slowly descend into madness-" Polonius began.
"More like plunging headfirst," Ophelia muttered.
"But you have to remember that no good would come of your union and no matter what anyone tells you, the fact he went insane when you dumped him is not your fault," Polonius assured her.
"I know, but are we really sure that it's my dumping him that did it?" Ophelia asked.
Polonius blinked quizzically at her. "Whatever do you mean?"
"That may have been the final nail in the coffin, but he's been pretty…upset for awhile now, don't you think?" Ophelia prompted.
"About what?" Polonius asked innocently.
"He's convinced that his mother's going to hell because his uncle tricked her into an incest marriage, he doesn't want to be here, and he seems to want everyone to spend the rest of their lives mourning his father," Ophelia explained.
"Don't be silly, Ophelia. Of course he's not upset about any of that, it's obviously because of his love for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go inform the King," Polonius said, hurrying out of the room.
"Oh God, now I need a drink," Ophelia moaned. "Where did Horatio say those watchmen were?"
- -
Claudius stared blankly at the two young men standing before him. They had gone to school with his moody nephew, but Winterbug was a big place, so who knew if they even knew each other. And which one was which, anyway?
"Greetings Rosencrantz and Guildenstern," he attempted. His wife frowned at him out of the corner of his eye. Clearly, he'd guessed wrong. "Or is it Guildenstern and Rosencrantz?"
The taller one shrugged. "It really doesn't matter."
"You're late, Guildenstern" Gertrude said sternly, having decided which was which. He may as well follow her lead.
"Sorry about that," Guildenstern replied. "We meant to be on time but we got lost-"
"Did we ever!" Rosencrantz cut in. "We were tossing this coin and it kept coming up heads and then we met this group of minstrels and I think they wanted to have sex with us and then there was this bird and-"
"I don't think they really need to hear about all of that," Guildenstern said hastily. "Now, sir, if you would be so kind as to inform us why you summoned us here?"
"Didn't my messenger tell you?" Claudius asked, slightly put out at having to explain.
"He may very well have," Rosencrantz acknowledged. "But we don't remember."
"Very well," Claudius said, taking a deep breath. "Hamlet has been acting…strangely for some time."
"Approximately two months," Gertrude elaborated. "Ever since his father died."
"We have absolutely no idea why," Claudius continued. "I mean, so what if I killed his father? The boy really needs to get over it."
"Did you just say you killed his father?" Rosencrantz asked, looking alarmed.
"Of course not!" Claudius denied. "I would never admit to murdering my pompous older brother, especially not in front of stranger's and my wife's first husband."
"But I could have sworn-"
"If he said he didn't, then he didn't," Guildenstern interrupted. "Unless you think you know more than a King."
"No, not at all!" Rosencrantz insisted.
"So as I said, Hamlet keeps moping about and bursting into soliloquies. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, of course, but the whole point of soliloquies are that they are supposed to be done in private and he just spouts them off whenever the urge strikes him," Claudius shook his head. "It's just not right."
"I swear to you, Madame," Guildenstern said solemnly. "We will find out what is wrong with your son."
"Even if it's the last thing Prince Hamlet does," Rosencrantz agreed.
"Don't you mean if it's the last thing you do?" Gertrude asked.
"Well it wouldn't do us much good if we died, now would it?" Rosencrantz asked rhetorically. "Yes, we'll do it or he'll die trying."
"I…see," Gertrude said slowly. "I will have someone take you to him."
After they had left, Gertrude turned to her husband. "Are you sure that they're the best people for the job?"
Claudius shrugged apathetically. "Who knows? They are, however, the only people for the job in Denmark so I guess we'll have to make do."
"But what about Horatio?" Gertrude suggested. "Couldn't we ask him?"
"What would Laertes' best friend know about Hamlet's mental health?" Claudius asked. "Besides, I don't want the rivalry between my two nephews to get any worse than it already is."
Before Gertrude could remind Claudius – yet again – that Laertes was not her son, Polonius came in.
"Your ambassadors have returned from Norway, sir," Polonius announced. "Apparently you were right; the Norwegian King had no idea his army was missing and once he asked Fortinbras about it, the boy apologized and swore on the King's life that he would never attack us."
"So we're safe for a good…three months, do you think?" Claudius mused. "How long could that ailing old man possibly have, anyway?"
"It might be longer than that, sir," Polonius informed him. "The King bribed Fortinbras to go attack Poland and they have asked for safe passage through Denmark to get there."
"Ah, what the hell," Claudius shrugged. "You may go back to Norway now."
"Norway, sir?" Polonius asked confused.
"Yes, you are free to continue your duties as ambassador."
"I'm not an ambassador, your majesty," Polonius corrected.
"You're not?" Claudius looked puzzled. "Then who the hell are you?"
"Polonius, sir," Polonius waited for some sign of recognition. When he didn't get it, he continued. "Your advisor?"
"I thought Ophelia was my advisor," Claudius said, scratching his head. "What ever happened to her? I liked her, she was pretty."
"My daughter is still around," Polonius assured him. "But I am your advisor."
"Do I have to pay you?" Claudius demanded.
"You already do," Polonius reminded him.
"Well, okay, I guess. So. Advise me," Claudius ordered.
"I know what is wrong with your nephew," Polonius announced grandly.
"Go on," Gertrude said as it became clear the King wasn't invested enough to prompt him.
"Hamlet's crazy because he's in love with Ophelia and she dumped him," Polonius explained.
"Oh, when did this happen?" Gertrude asked, upset. She'd always liked Ophelia.
"Yesterday," Polonius replied.
"That won't work, then; Hamlet's been crazy for two months," Claudius remarked.
Polonius pulled a stack of paper out of his pocket. "But I have love letters! Hamlet wrote them to let Ophelia know how very much in love he was with her."
"I'll buy that," Claudius conceded. "Seeing as how they were dating and all, but that doesn't necessarily mean that's why he's crazy."
"I suppose we could test it," Polonius said, looking a bit annoyed at being doubted. "Hamlet has taken up patrolling the inside of the castle so we could hide and watch Ophelia confront Hamlet so we can see how he reacts."
"Why not?" Claudius said. "I've got nothing better to do."
"What about preparing for war? Fortinbras will surely attack the minute his bedridden uncle dies," Gertrude pointed out.
"Nothing better at all to do…in fact, maybe I'll put on a play. Didn't Rosen-whoever and Guild-what's-his-face say something about minstrels?" Claudius continued blithely.
"Oh look, there's Hamlet. I'm going to go talk to him to get a good feel of just how crazy being dumped by my daughter has made him," Polonius informed the monarchs before he ran to catch up with the questionably sane Prince.
"Prince Hamlet!" Polonius called out.
Hamlet stopped and looked at Polonius confused. "What do you need, oh honorable fishmonger?"
"I'm not a fishmonger," Polonius snapped. "Honestly, I've served your father as advisor since before you were even born. How does no one know who I am?"
"My father?" Hamlet latched onto the only part of Polonius' reply that interested him. "He's dead, you know."
"Yes, I had heard a rumor to that effect," Polonius said dryly.
"Do you think my Uncle killed him?" Hamlet asked idly.
"Yes, definitely," Polonius replied promptly. "He was talking about it earlier."
"No? Well no matter. Hey, do you see that cloud?" Hamlet asked.
"Cloud? Prince Hamlet, we're inside," Polonius pointed out.
"And you're old, but you don't see me saying anything about it," Hamlet shot back angrily.
Polonius counted to ten under his breath before responding. "…Yes, Prince Hamlet, I see the cloud."
"Do you think it looks like a whale?" Hamlet asked.
"Sure, why not?" Polonius replied.
"I disagree, I think it looks like a weasel," Hamlet said, shaking his head.
"But you're the one who said-" Polonius began.
"I never said it looked like your mother; cease this slander at once! Although it does bare a remarkable likeness to the fish you sell…" Hamlet trailed off, staring at the ceiling intently.
"Well, that answers my question; he's completely divorced from reality," Polonius muttered, storming off. He encountered Rosencrantz and Guildenstern on his way out of the hall. "He's all yours."
"Hello Lord Hamlet!" Rosencrantz said cheerfully.
"Greetings, my Lord," Guildenstern nodded respectfully.
"We were wondering why you're not the King since you're of age and your father used to be the King," Rosencrantz told him.
"Because my Uncle is EVOL!" Hamlet declared dramatically. "Now, who are you two?"
"We're Rosencrantz and Guildenstern," Guildenstern introduced.
"Which one is which?" Hamlet asked.
"Your mother decided that I was Guildenstern and he was Rosencrantz," Guildenstern replied.
"I…see…" Hamlet said, eying them strangely. "Do I know you?"
"We went to Wittenberg together," Rosencrantz explained.
Hamlet shook his head ruefully. "That's not ringing any bells…"
"We copied off you in Philosophy," Guildenstern admitted.
"And History," Rosencrantz added. "And math. And-"
"I think he gets the picture," Guildenstern interrupted.
"Oh, now I remember you!" Hamlet glared at them. "You really should learn to do your own work. Now why are you here?"
"We've been asking ourselves that same question for days," Rosencrantz said mournfully."I think we decided on 'because the King and Queen of Denmark sent us to spy on their son and see why he's crazy.'"
"I don't believe you," Hamlet said bluntly.
"You…don't?" Guildenstern asked, puzzled.
"Indeed I don't! I know that you're here because my mother and my uncle sent for you! They think I'm depressed!" Hamlet revealed triumphantly.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exchanged looks and decided not to point out that that was what they just said.
Instead, Rosencrantz said, "There is this really creepy group of actors coming this way. Do you think that might entertain you?"
Hamlet shrugged. "I suppose. It really depends on if I'm insane or not at the time."
"When would you be entertained: when you were insane or sane?" Guildenstern asked.
"Ah, there's the rub," Hamlet said mysteriously.
Before they could ask for clarification, Polonius reentered the Hall, followed by a group of men.
"The players are here, Prince Hamlet," he said curtly.
Hamlet brightened immediately. "Really? That's great. Do you know The Murder of Gonzago?"
"We know that play," one of the players confirmed.
Hamlet beamed. "Do you? That's just great. Here's an altered version of the script. It's nothing big, I just changed a few lines to try and get my uncle to confess to having murdered my father-"
"You really don't need to put this much effort into it," Polonius murmured.
"And you can perform it tomorrow. Now, adviser, go show them to the guestrooms. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, go away. I wish to sulk in peace," Hamlet ordered.
"Sure thing," Rosencrantz said cheerfully as he and Guildenstern wondered outside.
"At least this time he remembered I was an advisor," Polonius attempted to console himself.
"You know, I really do need to kill Claudius," Hamlet murmured to himself. "But for some reason I haven't done it yet. Maybe if I wait around long enough, I'll find I've done it. If I'm lucky, seeing a play that's almost eerily similar to what happened with my parents and my uncle will be enough for me to be sure that my father was right about Claudius poisoning him. Normally, I wouldn't doubt his word, but he said he was asleep at the time, and I wouldn't want to kill anyone over a simple misunderstanding…"
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