Hamlet’s Trojan Death Note - A One Act Play
I - ‘In Wittenberg there lies the scene’
[Horatio sits at a desk. He reads and makes notes. He does this with meticulous care. He
wears smart-casual clothes. The room is well lit. There is a crammed bookshelf. Books
are piled on the floor. There is a stand that holds two swords. There is music playing in
the background.
Enter Hamlet. He is well-dressed, wearing a fitted overcoat. He carries a large bag on his
back]
Hamlet:
(Deep inhale)
The Prince returns to his otium. How now Horatio?
Horatio:
Hamlet!
(Stands up)
Hamlet:
Yes, that’s the one. Where’s the grand celebration for his return? Surely he deserves better
than that? “Hamlet!” Why are you shocked? Is there a ghost behind me? Have the halls of
Wittenberg already forgotten about this dazzling young Prince?
Horatio:
Ha! Welcome back. I see you haven’t left your sense of humour in Denmark.
Hamlet:
(Drops bag on the floor)
No.
Horatio:
You caught me off-guard, that’s all. Would you like me to arrange something? Nobody
expected you for at least another week. What, with all that’s / happened
Hamlet:
No. I’m back. And for a good while I hope.
Horatio:
How is Denmark? Still raining? What news?
Hamlet:
Denmark.
Denmark, Denmark, Denmark. What news from Denmark.
I hate the place. Denmark is a leech that sucks the life out of its you. It has fangs, I swear it,
after just a few minutes there, no more than that, I felt them sink into my skin and gnaw
through my mould, as though somehow I was being ingested by the floor beneath me.
(Pause)
I had to get out of there, before it was too late. Anybody in my situation would have done
the / same
Horatio:
That’s our home you’re talking about.
Hamlet:
Yes, Horatio, yes it is. You’re right. A sound point, well delivered and to the heart of the
matter like a top scholar. Have you been rehearsing your rhetoric? How could I have been
so foolish to overlook that one? Our home. Yes. I would just like to add something to your
pathbreaking critical insight.
Denmark is a rotting fish, a spectre hangs over her, I can feel it, no, I saw it with mine own
eyes. Trust me, Horatio, you would rather be elsewhere when she turns to dust.
Horatio:
Friends, comrades, I give you ‘The future of Denmark’
(Sounds applause)
Hamlet:
It is inevitable. Why try to hold on to the intangible? One day, mark this, you will stand
over the corpses of Denmark and in that moment, you’ll be blinded by the teeth of my selfcongratulatory grin. See that.
(Smiles)
Remember it. See it?
(Smiles)
Remember it. I don’t see you doing much remembering.
(Hamlet takes off his overcoat and hangs it up)
And one more thing, while we’re at it, can you give me a reason why I should waste
valuable moments wallowing about in self-pity over there, tormented by their persistent
howling, of all the “How are you Hamlet? Is everything well Hamlet? Hamlet was such a
good man, Hamlet. Hamlet this, Hamlet that. Hamlet! Hamlet! Hamlet!” (Pause) When I
can do all that here, but hidden from their eyes, in peace, minus the nagging?
Horatio:
Ophelia’s well? Laertes?
Hamlet:
Yes, yes, all well, though I didn’t see her during my stay. Laertes was earnest and
overbearingly humble, as ever. They call it good character, I call it “twat”.
Horatio:
And what about the inseparables, Ros and Guil?
Hamlet:
Good, good. I’m not entirely sure what they’re doing, you know, all they seem to do is stand
about playing coin games. No doubt they’ll become useful at some point. Listen, what’s
with the inquisition, Lucius? Here to suppress the heresy?
Horatio:
No reason. Just curious.
(Slight pause)
Hamlet, this may not be the best time, but how are you progressing with that play you were
writing?
Hamlet:
Play?
Horatio:
You know.
Hamlet:
No I don’t. What play? I don’t know anything about a play. What are you talking about?
Madness. Where is it? Is this a play? Are we players? Did you arrange this, Horatio? Is this
what you arranged? Is everybody going to spring out of the wardrobe? Come on, come out,
I know you’re hiding. O, you shouldn’t / have
Horatio:
You are well aware of what will happen if you don’t do it.
Hamlet:
And what’s that?
Horatio:
Expulsion? Embarrassment?
Hamlet:
Death?
Horatio:
Come on, it will be good for you to write it.
Hamlet:
I know, I know. Yes, it’s under way. My quiff is blazing, my mind is aglow with whirling,
transient nodes of thought careening through a cosmic vapor of invention.
(Slight pause)
I just need to, I just need to actually start writing.
Horatio:
You haven’t started? The performance is in three weeks.
Hamlet:
Of course, of course I’ve started. What do you think I am? Are you insinuating that I have a
truant’s disposition?
Horatio:
Yes.
Hamlet:
Isn’t life already theatre, Horatio? I play a role, you play a role, we are all players.
Therefore are we not always writing?
Horatio:
Can you take this seriously for a second? You have been tasked by the university to write a
play. Are you aware of how important that is? I don’t think you are. They’ve even hired a
famous company of players from England, just for this event.
Hamlet:
Who?
Horatio:
The King’s Men.
Hamlet:
Never heard of them, they sound terrible. Anyway, I thought the English were only
interested in whores, beer and fighting?
(Slight pause.)
Who else would the university have asked to do it? You Horatio? Do you want to write the
play?
Horatio:
That’s not the point.
Hamlet:
Look, I’m congested, clogged up, blocked, I need time and space to think, that’s all. You
shouldn’t worry, you’ll make yourself ill.
Horatio:
Have you seen the guest list? Do you have any idea who is attending this / event?
Hamlet:
I don’t care. This will be my best play, which is incredible because it will be my only play.
My magnum opus, if you like. The audience will exit with their hearts in their mouths and
their minds on fire. Or the other way around. What matters is that I will eventually write
the play. Genius cannot be rushed, Horatio.
(Sits down)
Horatio:
(To himself)
There was never a genius without a tincture of madness.
Hamlet:
Come again?
Horatio:
Nothing. Just some mumbling.
(Slight pause)
How is your mother? She must be, well you know, what, with, everything and the, you
know. Thing that, that / happened
Hamlet:
What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Horatio:
You know, the thing, that happened. The thing.
(Points to the ground, then mimes digging)
Hamlet:
No, you’re going to have to be clearer. What thing that happened?
(Silence)
Oh, my father’s death. Why didn’t you say?
Mother...will be fine. My mother is—Mother. She’s a formidable woman, made from sturdy
material. The mother of Hamlet, weak-willed? Ha!
Horatio:
She’s lost her husband. He was her security, companion and lover. You can’t blame her for
sorrow. No doubt she’ll feel vulnerable, lonely.
Hamlet:
Claudius has provided her with ample provisions. The only remedy for her condition is
Time. Time to think, think to reflect. It may take months, years even. The longer the better.
Horatio:
Would it be a leap to suggest that she may desire the companionship of a loved one? Death
is a heavy burden to bear alone.
Hamlet:
The remedy is solitude, not the hassle and interference of loved ones.
Horatio:
She needs a friendly face.
Hamlet:
There are maids, aren’t they friendly? Because I’m familiar with a number of them and let
me assure you they are very friendly. Who else does she need?
Horatio:
There’s no need for that. This is a sombre time.
Hamlet:
Horatio! What’s a lad to do but be merry?
Horatio:
A lad should support his mother.
Hamlet:
Look, I will return to Denmark when time demands it. Not a moment sooner. Until then, I
will stay in Wittenberg. I must continue my studies.
Horatio:
I trust you know what’s best.
(Slight pause)
But you must finish the play.
Hamlet:
In time, Horatio, time!
II - ‘Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light’
[Hamlet paces around. Horatio sits listening. The room slightly darker]
Hamlet:
...and the worst thing about it was how they all clapped and cheered.
(Mimes raucous applause)
It was as though Wittenberg had been invaded by a horde of malnourished groundings,
who’d been told there was a free after-show buffet. Why did we bother? Tell me. Go on.
What was the point?
Horatio:
I’d heard positive reviews.
Hamlet:
I could have spent the last two hours lying down, or sipping liquor, or thinking about birds
and gardens while organizing my books into alphabetical order. Instead, three precious
hours of my life murdered by a bunch of amateurs who butchered the air into tiny pieces
while shouting so loudly I think I’ve actually lost sound in my right ear. They should be
taken outside, whipped and beaten, every one of them, the players and the audience, until
somebody, I don’t care who, says sorry for ruining my day.
Horatio:
Oh? I quite liked it. A tragic plot, but not too depressing, interesting characters, well-acted.
And it was humorous. You have to admit the fool was very funny. The scene where he
confused the villainous king with malapropisms, it had me in / tears
(Laughs)
Hamlet:
“I quite liked it.” “I quite liked it.” No. What’s your damage lad? Do you have a fever? Are
your pillows uncomfortable? Want me to tuck you in bed? Do you require an apothecary?
Plot and characters? Where? What plot and characters? Where were they?
Horatio:
Am I not allowed to express an opinion?
Hamlet:
No. The fool was an idiot. He probably didn’t even follow the script. So while he was off
having a wonderful time amusing a handful of barren spectators, the rest of the company
were left bewildered on the stage as though time had grown legs and walked to the tavern.
Is that what you want from the theatre? Fool’s games and magic tricks? Noise?
(Slight pause)
What do you know about theatre anyway?
Horatio:
I know what I like and I like what I know.
Hamlet:
No, Horatio. I don’t think you do.
The players may as well have carried the script out onto the stage, set fire to it, then
sprinkled the ashes all over the audience. A company should never ruin a play by
overdoing their performance to please the spectators. Just as a playwright should only
write plays, if and when they are sufficiently educated to do so.
Horatio:
Why?
Hamlet:
Whoever was responsible for that inexplicable dumbshow must never have seen the
masterpieces of Seneca or Plautus. They probably hadn’t even seen a Kyd. We are men of
ideas, Horatio, for what do we truly possess except the things we know? Therefore, the
playwright must also be the philosopher. We stand, arms linked with the men of ideas,
Aristotle, Cicero, Montaigne.
Horatio:
Who’s that?
Hamlet:
Who’s what?
Horatio:
The last one.
Hamlet:
O, the frenchman?
Horatio:
Is he?
Hamlet:
Michel de Montaigne. A man of letters; a brilliant scholar. Died not long ago. French, but
don’t let that put you off. Laertes claims to have seen him lecture.
Horatio:
I’ve never heard of him. What does he say?
Hamlet:
O this and that, this and that. You’re a slave to the details, Horatio. As a wise man once
said, if you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything. Anyway, the specifics
escape me at the moment, I will need to search through my books later on. I have an
abysmal memory / for
Horatio:
Hamlet, you say a playwright must be a man of ideas, but what about the actors? Surely the
only tools they have are showmanship and passion?
Hamlet:
Actors must speak the words with poise and precision. Everything they need should be
found in the script. The words guide and are all they need. A skilled practitioner, an artist,
will utilize discretion. They will bind the word to the action, the action to the word. It’s very
simple.
Horatio:
Theatre is entertainment.
Hamlet:
Thinking is entertainment, you overdone cabbage.
Horatio:
What if I don’t want to think at the theatre, I want to enjoy myself?
Hamlet:
Tush, tush! Such theatre should be kept in the wardrobe.
Horatio:
Give me an example of good theatre then. You’re the expert.
Hamlet:
With pleasure. Do you remember that performance we attended, just before I left for
Denmark?
Horatio:
That. How could I forget that?
Hamlet:
If my memory serves me, it wasn’t well-received.
Horatio:
No.
Hamlet:
Irrelevant. In attendance were a few worthy gentleman, the best minds of our generation,
who appreciated its brilliance. That was theatre: thought-provoking, insightful, yet
rendered with enormous skill and propriety. I wrote down a speech. I have it somewhere.
Let me see, let me see. Here it is.
‘The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,
Black as his purpose, did the night resemble—’
Do you remember?
Horatio:
Yes.
Hamlet:
I’ve started so I’ll finish. Pay attention, you may learn something.
‘When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
Hath now this dead and black complexion smeared
With heraldry more dismal: head to foot
Now is he total gules, horridly ticked
With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
Baked and impasted with the parching streets
That lend a tyrannous and damned light
To their vile murders: roasted in wrath and fire.
And thus o’er-sized with coagulate gore.
With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
Old grandsire Priam seeks.’
There’s a speech for the stage. Outstanding.
Horatio:
Why not write a play set during the Trojan war?
Hamlet:
For a man so ill to look at and one with staggeringly poor taste, you do surprise us with
moments of excellence. Truth is I’m working on something.
Horatio:
Do tell.
Hamlet:
Sort of. If by work, you mean to think, then yes, I am working.
Horatio:
What are you thinking?
Hamlet:
A few months ago I picked up a copy of Geoffrey Chaucer’s courtly-romance Troilus and
Criseyde. Having studied that text, there is no doubt in my mind that Chaucer rubs
shoulders with Homer, Ovid and Dante. And this is despite being English.
Horatio:
And this has been on your mind for months? What is the relevance?
Hamlet:
I’ll get to that.
The romance of Troilus and Cressida doesn’t appear in Homer’s epic. In fact he mentions
Troilus just once. Odd? No, because it is in fact a medieval invention. What Chaucer does is
pluck the legends out of time and release them into an unfamiliar world. The story is the
site of an interplay between past and present.
Horatio:
What do you propose?
Hamlet:
I say, let’s play some more games with the dead. Are we going to give the Englishman the
final word? Not a chance. This tale demands the attention of a modern pen. I will pull it up
by the bootstraps. Mark you, Horatio, the ancients will walk out onto that stage, in flesh,
blood and armour. The audience will spend an evening with Achilles, Agamemnon and
Hector. History will be given substance in Wittenberg.
(Slight pause)
But as I’ve said before you can’t—
Horatio:
—rush genius.
It won’t be easy putting the Trojan war on the stage. You will have to be cautious not to
offend the noble guests. You know what they’re like, they’ll no doubt judge themselves by
the depiction.
Hamlet:
I don’t care about the feelings of sensitive nobles.
Horatio:
Those nobles will be your audience.
(Finds letter on the desk)
What is this paper among my notes? It’s in your hand. A scene from the play? It is
addressed to Ophelia.
Hamlet:
(Scrambles to grab the paper from out of Horatio’s hand)
I’ll take that.
Horatio:
You could have just asked. What is it?
Hamlet:
Nothing.
Horatio:
Right.
Hamlet:
It’s a letter I’ve been writing. To Ophelia.
Horatio:
Yes.
Hamlet:
It’s a statement of intent.
Horatio:
A statement of intent?
Hamlet:
A manifesto of my desires. I will read it to you. I want honest feedback.
‘To the celestial and my soul’s idol, the most beautified Ophelia, in her excellent white
bosom, doubt those the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a
liar, but never doubt I love.”
Does it convey the correct amount of passion?
Horatio:
To be honest, I have no idea what the correct amount would be. But it sounds slightly
melodramatic. And beautified? I’m not sure about that.
Hamlet:
It’s the perfect word. Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl. She needs to know how I truly
feel. I’ve never felt like this about anyone or anything before.
Horatio:
Take time to pause, Hamlet. You may be creating false hope.
Hamlet:
Her beauty could smite oblivion.
Horatio:
Then why not act if it means so much? Leave Wittenberg, go to Denmark and claim your
dame.
Hamlet:
I am. These words are my actions. Ha! Leave Wittenberg. Who would write the play? Go to
Denmark, are you mad? Ha!
Horatio:
Do you want me to have it delivered?
Hamlet:
Yes. Good lad. I’ve got a good feeling about this, Horatio.
Horatio:
And you will start the play?
Hamlet:
Can’t you see I’m busy?
Horatio:
(Aside) Madness in great ones must not go unwatched.
Scene III - You must tend your garden
[Enter Horatio. Hamlet is doing something other than writing. The room slightly darker]
Horatio:
Made any progress?
Hamlet:
Can’t a man just live? I’m busy.
Horatio:
Busy with what exactly?
Hamlet:
Life, Horatio, life.
Horatio:
You’re sitting around pontificating when you should be writing.
Hamlet:
Time is my arrow, but my quiver is empty.
Horatio:
It’s time to pick up the sword then.
Hamlet:
All in good time. Now be a good lad and keep quiet.
(Starts to read)
Horatio:
No word from Ophelia?
Hamlet:
(Pause)
No. She mustn’t have received the letter yet, unreliable delivery service.
Horatio:
What are you reading?
Hamlet:
Just words, my good friend. Words, words, words.
Horatio:
What troubles you, friend?
Hamlet:
What doesn’t trouble us? I want to ask you something. What do you do?
Horatio:
I’m not sure I understand the question. I would have thought it was obvious.
Hamlet:
It’s not a trick. What do you actually do?
Horatio:
I’m a student, soldier and friend, what more is there to know?
Hamlet:
I didn’t ask what you are, I’m well aware of what you are. But then you could, if you
wanted, claim to be anything. It wouldn’t change your purpose.
Horatio:
Isn’t what I am and what I do more or less the same thing?
Hamlet:
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Horatio:
We are?
Hamlet:
Isn’t man’s agony his inability to marry what he is and what he does?
Horatio:
I don’t know. This is impossible.
Hamlet:
I am a man, but I behave like a dog. Does that mean I am a dog? I am a dog, but I behave
like a man, does that mean I am man?
Horatio:
No, it makes you mad.
Hamlet:
Precisely. When what we are and what we do are unaligned, they say we are mad.
Horatio:
Who are they? Where did all this come from?
Hamlet:
I ask again, Horatio, what do you do?
Horatio:
I don’t know the answer.
Hamlet:
You stand guard, you look through books, you complete the odd task that I set you to, but
to what end, to what purpose? You spend countless days in this study, finger pressed
against a book, for what? What are you doing?
Horatio:
I am living! This is my life. What else can I do but be? I can’t just stop, can I?
Hamlet:
Why can’t you stop being? Who stops you?
Horatio:
God.
Hamlet:
That’s all there is. To be. And even that is devoured by Time. Or not to be? Ergo there’s no
point in doing anything, is there?
Horatio:
Of course there’s a point. We have a duty to make things better.
Hamlet:
What things?
Horatio:
The world.
Hamlet:
For who?
Horatio:
For ourselves and others. For the greater good of man.
Hamlet:
What greater good? Why?
Horatio:
Because it’s the right thing to do.
Hamlet:
Says who? There is nothing either right or wrong but thinking makes it so.
Horatio:
Then I would rather live in world where people thought it into being righteous.
Hamlet:
You’re far too optimistic, Horatio.
Horatio:
Ha! You’re far too bleak, Hamlet.
Hamlet:
We are all victims of Chronos, I don’t think you’re prepared for when he knocks at the
door.
Horatio:
Nobody is prepared. For that reason life must be lived forwards.
Hamlet:
But you can. You can. Life can only be understood backwards. It is the only way to free
yourself.
Horatio:
(Pause)
Well, if that concludes our discussion. I have business to attend to.
Hamlet:
O, what exactly?
Horatio:
I am required to tend the gardens.
Hamlet:
Ha! You are “required to tend the gardens”. That’s all there is, Horatio. Gardens—
(Exit Horatio)
—that must be tended.
Scene IV - ‘What’s aught but as ‘tis valued?’
[Hamlet practices with a sword. Horatio works at the desk. The room is slightly darker]
Hamlet:
You work too hard, Horatio. Come, practice your sword-arm for a while. It will provide
clarity.
Horatio:
I am writing, perhaps you should try it, who knows, in ten days there could be a play in
front of you.
Hamlet:
As my father once said, ‘a man must be skilled with a sword, in case his ink runs out.’
Horatio:
If a man has never used a pen, he will never run out of ink. Anyway, you possess
considerable skill as a swordsman.
Hamlet:
You flatter me Horatio.
(Performs a flurry with the sword)
Horatio:
Truly you would have made a fantastic soldier. What made you choose the path of a
scholar?
Hamlet:
Excuse me, where has Horatio gone? I can only see my father.
Horatio:
All I’m saying is that your father was a great soldier and commander. It was the obvious
career path.
Hamlet:
What? And live under his shroud? To have his achievements dangled in my face? No, I
don’t think so.
Horatio:
He was a great man.
Hamlet:
What? A great man? I only ever saw the actor of his own ideal. He would have had me
inside the Trojan horse next to Agamemnon himself, had he the ability to manipulate time.
Horatio:
He wanted to see your name in the legends.
Hamlet:
In four hundred years nobody will care about some obscure Danish prince, Horatio. I am
better off where I am.
(Slight pause)
You’re a solider, have you ever killed a man?
Horatio:
No.
Hamlet:
Nor could I, willingly. I’m more suited to books and reflection. War is a fools game. I am
deadlier with the word.
(Puts the sword down)
Tell me, what do you truly value?
Horatio:
In what sense?
Hamlet:
What matters to you most? What could you not live without?
Horatio:
The people I love. God.
Hamlet:
How much is he worth? A thousand ships?
Horatio:
How can you put a price on the creator?
Hamlet:
Where is he?
Horatio:
He is in everything. Everywhere.
Hamlet:
Is He in the commoners, riddled with disease and sin? Or in the lecherous commander
who has his way with his own daughter? Or in the corrupt Duke who would horde grain
from starving children? I don’t see Him in anything.
Horatio:
Then what is your explanation for this?
Hamlet:
We are here, Horatio. Nothing more, nothing less. We are all the same when buried.
Horatio:
You’re wrong, Hamlet.
Hamlet:
Perhaps. Perhaps not. I am unsure. I am sure. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just
say goodbye.
Horatio:
You know as well as I do what the canon says about that.
Hamlet:
But reason, that which makes us human, points its hand towards the / grave
Horatio:
Then it is reason that is out of joint. We will be judged by our actions on this plain.
Hamlet:
I see nothing worth action. Show me. Where is it? I can’t see it. Am I blind? Our actions
disappear like that. Puff. Gone. Why bother? The only certainty, the only fragment of
certainty that remains, is that of our space in the ground. We all turn to dust.
Horatio:
But good souls will live in the eternal embrace of our lord in heaven. Our dust becomes the
earth, the farmers plants their seeds out of which new life grows.
Hamlet:
Ha! But of earth they also make loam! Imagine that, you have to smile, come on, the greats
of human history, Alexander, Julius Caeser, Darius, all end as a plug in a sweating beer
barrel. What a fate for such “worthy” men. Where will I end up?
Horatio:
What makes you say such things?
Hamlet:
This is the world I see, I am nothing more than a humble prophet. Does the truth burn you,
Horatio?
Horatio:
You won’t change the will of the everlasting.
Hamlet:
If I ever had my will the everlasting would have me crawling for eternity between heaven
and earth.
(Picks up swords)
Now, enough of this idle talk, Horatio. Put you words away and play a while. You know the
rules.
(Throws a sword in the direction of Horatio, who catches it)
Horatio:
As you wish.
(Both men draw swords)
Come on, sir.
Hamlet:
Come on, sir.
Scene V - ‘That to study philosophy is to learn how to die’
(Hamlet and Horatio sit at the desk. Hamlet distracts Horatio with a coin game. The
room slightly darker)
Hamlet:
Heads or tails. Which one shall it be? The choice is yours. Go on, have a guess.
Horatio:
Hamlet, you should be writing, stop with this pointless game. Your reputation is on the
line.
Hamlet:
Relax. I don’t care about reputation. Reputations are momentary aberrations, saved for the
men of the hour. Guess. Guess.
Horatio:
Heads.
Hamlet:
(Flicks coin)
Heads. First time lucky. Best of three.
Horatio:
Heads.
Hamlet:
(Flicks coin)
Heads again. One more go. You can’t possibly win again.
Horatio:
Heads.
Hamlet:
(Flicks coin)
Hm. Interesting.
Horatio:
Well. Did I win?
Hamlet:
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
(Puts the coin inside his trouser pocket and walks away)
Horatio, you’re a student of the classics, correct?
Horatio:
Indeed.
Hamlet:
Why?
Horatio:
There is no greater discipline.
Hamlet:
That may be case, but what do you want from it? What is it that you seek? We study to
discover something new, or to understand something that was previously a mystery. For
instance, what do you understand by the legend of Achilles? What does he mean to you?
Horatio:
He was a miraculous soldier, the greatest of heroes. He is an exemplar to all soldiers, to all
men.
Hamlet:
And Agamemnon?
Horatio:
A wise, honourable commander of a splendid nation. Just as your father was.
Hamlet:
Interesting. Why do you believe that?
Horatio:
Because that’s what Homer tells us. It’s all there, you just have to look for it.
Hamlet:
Precisely. There is a text, a document, a view recorded on the page.
Horatio:
It’s the greatest record we have.
Hamlet:
“The greatest record we have.” What relevance does it have to our world, our material? You
decorate these icons with qualities that you want to see in yourself. But where and when
did it begin? Do we simply take Homer’s word as final? Who even was this Homer? And
from where did the legend originate? Did Achilles actually slay Hector or did he take credit
for the actions of other men? Who exactly was this woman they called Helen of Troy? Was
she worth the deaths of thousands of men? Or was she a whore? A traitor! Did the Greeks
use a wooden horse to penetrate the walls of Troy? Or was it the Trojans who were
victorious? Whatever the outcome the writers, the storytellers, have the last laugh.
We can only interpret. We make it what we want it to be.
Horatio:
Where are you going with this?
Hamlet:
(Picks up a sword)
History is interpretation. Life is what hurts. We communicate with the dead in hope that
they may tell us something that we want to hear. But do we listen? If we did there would be
no fewer mistakes. We manipulate what they tell us to our own selfish ends.
(Points the sword in the direction Horatio)
Are you ready for death?
Horatio:
Where did that come from? I am in good health, why should I be concerned?
Hamlet:
Imagine, if you will, that through no fault of my own, I stumble over this chair, here, while
holding this rapier in my hand.
(Thrusts sword to Horatio’s neck)
The tip pierces your throat. You die. No time for prayer. No time for farewells. Just a
bloody undignified end. Would you be ready?
Horatio:
(Sword at throat)
I wouldn’t have time to prepare. Obviously not.
Hamlet:
Have the tales of such heroes prepared you for your last dance with oblivion? What does
Achilles have to say? Will Hector be there to fluff your pillows? Will Priam be at your
funeral?
(Withdraws sword from Horatio’s neck)
Horatio:
They tell us about life. Why the obsession with death?
Hamlet:
Death is eternity, life is just a cough.
Horatio:
Yes, the eternal embrace of the Lord.
Hamlet:
And what if there is nothing? You must be absolute for death, Horatio. The rest is silence.
Horatio:
Life is the only preparation for death.
Hamlet:
You miss the point completely, but then you lack philosophy.
Horatio:
Do I? Sorry.
Hamlet:
Not to worry, we can’t all get it.
(Slight pause. Takes the coin out of his pocket)
Heads. You win. Another round?
(Flicks coin)
Scene VI - ‘Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of they star: This must not be’
(Hamlet sits with his feet on the desk. He appears to be taking a nap and is still not
writing. Enter Horatio holding a letter. The room slightly darker)
Hamlet:
(Eyes closed)
Horatio, I trust all is well?
Horatio:
Yes. I am well. Are you?
Hamlet:
I’m asleep. What’s that in your hand, more of your inane scribbles? I don’t understand why
you bother. Isn’t it more exciting to look upon the text each time afresh?
Horatio:
This is not my notes. It’s a letter from Denmark.
Hamlet:
(Opens eyes)
Oh, what news? Has everything collapsed?
Horatio:
It’s addressed to you. From Ophelia.
Hamlet:
Why didn’t you say man? What do I pay you for? It’s about time she replied.
Horatio:
I have an odd feeling about this.
Hamlet:
Have you been drinking from the hip-flask of Dionysus again? Give it to me.
Horatio:
(Delivers letter to Hamlet)
As you wish.
Hamlet:
Who do we need to talk to around here to establish a reliable service that handles in the
delivery of messages? This was no doubt written months ago.
(Opens letter and begins to read)
Horatio:
What news?
Hamlet:
Just a moment.
(Stands up and moves away from the desk to finish reading the letter)
Horatio:
What says she there? Has something happened?
Hamlet:
(Tears the letter and throws the pieces)
That intolerable varlet! That ungrateful whore! This is betrayal. I am betrayed.
Horatio:
What’s the matter?
Hamlet:
That villain. He is responsible for this.
Horatio:
Who? Her father? Her brother?
Hamlet:
He has poisoned her.
Horatio:
Who has been poisoned?
Hamlet:
Ophelia.
Horatio:
Is she dead!?
Hamlet:
No. If only she was.
Horatio:
You want to her dead?
Hamlet:
Would it make any difference?
Horatio:
That would be murder.
Hamlet:
So?
Horatio:
This is madness.
Hamlet:
No, Horatio. I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk
from a handsaw. Her father, her brother, they’ve poisoned her with doubt about this young
Dane.
Horatio:
You’ve no proof of that.
Hamlet:
Proof? What proof do you need? Even if the ghost of my father were to rise out of the
ground with words to the contrary, the course of my heart is set.
Horatio:
This is a mistake. Didn’t you say that Ophelia was the pearl of India? Surely a single letter
doesn’t change that.
Hamlet:
Words, Horatio, a fiction, my mind was fooled. It was no matter from the heart. No doubt
she has ensnared another Prince with her tricks. Enough! I don’t want another mention of
her name in my company. I am undone.
Horatio:
As you wish.
Hamlet:
(Walks over to the desk and picks up some papers)
Here. Take these and burn them. Everything. I don’t want to see any of it.
Horatio:
Hamlet, take some time to rest, control your passion with reason.
Hamlet:
Now.
(Exit Horatio. Hamlet walks over to the desk, picks up a pen and stars to write)
Scene VII - To be undone by love
(Hamlet writes. Horatio practices with a sword. The room is slightly darker)
Horatio:
Prepare yourself villain! You have never faced a deadlier opponent than me.
(Sword fights with his shadow for a short while, until he is stabbed and feigns death)
I am dead.
Hamlet:
Is that necessary? Die quietly.
Horatio:
Apologies, it seems my imagination ran away with itself. How goes the play?
Hamlet:
It goes.
Horatio:
Great! What happened? Who turned on the tap?
Hamlet:
Time. Listen, I want your opinion on something.
Horatio:
I am yours.
Hamlet:
Would you kill a man for a woman?
Horatio:
What’s happened? What are you going to do?
Hamlet:
Nothing, calm down. Hypothetically speaking. Would you do it?
Horatio:
(Slight pause)
Did the woman want him dead?
Hamlet:
Not necessarily. But then maybe she did. It isn’t relevant.
Horatio:
Why would I need to kill the man?
Hamlet:
Let’s say, he stands in between you and the woman.
Horatio:
I’ll just ask him to move out of the way. Does it have to end in violence?
Hamlet:
Yes.
Horatio:
(Slight pause)
What does the woman want?
Hamlet:
It doesn’t matter.
Horatio:
Of course it does.
Hamlet:
She is honoured to have men fight for her services.
Horatio:
Services? What do you mean by services? Is she a maid?
Hamlet:
I mean as a wife.
Horatio:
Women are not the toys of men. We don’t just buy another once we are bored.
Hamlet:
If it was as simple as that. There’d be no more wars, that’s just to start.
Horatio:
Men would soon find something else to argue about.
Hamlet:
My point is that the value of a woman is nothing until they are desired by men. A woman
that men would die for is priceless, correct?
Horatio:
Was Ophelia worth nothing before she was desired by you?
Hamlet:
I thought I said not to speak her name.
Horatio:
The question stands
Hamlet:
To have a Prince send you nosegays, sweetmeats, trifles, just to bundle it together and
throw it back in his face is a disgrace. She should have given them to another man while I
stood watching in the corner.
Horatio:
I see the roots of this.
Hamlet:
You do, do you? Why don’t you pull them from the ground and have done with it,
gardener?
Horatio:
Everything is always about you, Hamlet.
Hamlet:
I’m the man at the centre his universe. Of course everything is about me. Who else would it
be about?
Horatio:
There are things in this life greater than you, Hamlet.
(Slight pause)
You shouldn’t have been as forceful in your affections.
Hamlet:
Forceful! So man is punished for honesty, for acting on his desires? Are we back in
Denmark?
Horatio:
Man is punished for his mistakes.
Hamlet:
Then what about men trapped in their games? Every man that has fallen has done so
because of women.
Horatio:
How hard is this to see? A woman is not an item to possess. She is a free being, to pick and
choose as she likes.
Hamlet:
Free? Explain to me why the Trojans and Greeks killed each other for Helen. Go on. Why
did so many men perish for the sake of one woman?
Horatio:
Because the Trojans kidnapped Helen from Menelaus. She was married. It was about the
pride of the Greek empire. That’s pretty high stakes.
Hamlet:
What if Helen fell in love with Paris and did not want to return to the Greeks? That was her
will, so be it. Why did the Greeks persist?
Horatio:
As one man said, she was the face that launched a thousand ships. She was famous
throughout the world for her beauty, no ordinary woman.
Hamlet:
Famous, eh? Ha! I wonder how much of what was said of her could be seen with the eye.
Horatio:
Men swore oaths to defend her marriage to the one she choose. Stealing her was an affront
to the whole of Greece; it was a war about the pride of a nation and the honour of an entire
people. It was the greatest event in human / history
Hamlet:
No Horatio, it was not.
The Trojans and the Greeks were fools, ensnared by the futility of their endeavour. They
were sickened by a disease so deep in their bones that no amount of medicine could ever
cure. What woman or man or object can compare to the lives of thousands? How fair, how
precious, how valuable is the death of a legion?
Horatio:
What is this?
Hamlet:
If Helen was the prize, then her value increased as more men perished. And you accuse me
of turning woman into an item? The deaths of thousands for one woman. One woman. For
what? Pride you say, honour. What pride is there in killing another man? What honour is
there in killing your next neighbour?
There wouldn’t have been a single drop of blood had the Trojans just given her back to the
Greeks. Not a single drop of blood had the Greeks accepted her wishes. Did anybody ever
ask Helen what she wanted? Whatever angle, the greatest event in human history was
about the possession, the ownership of a single woman.
Horatio:
Is this how your world is formed? Love can force men to sensational things. I thought of all
people you would know that.
Hamlet:
What, is death sensational? Love is a fiction of the mind.
Horatio:
You are sick.
Hamlet:
Horatio, it is not my fault that you are blind. Now quiet. I must write.
Scene VIII - ‘Adieu, adieu, Hamlet: remember me’
[The room slightly darker]
Hamlet:
...give me an explanation. Why would she do this? Is she sick? Has the world fallen inside
itself? A month, that’s all! A month. How could she have forgotten? O most pernicious
woman!
Horatio:
Though I hate to say this, I do recall saying that she would desire companionship. And
anyway, Claudius is generous man and a sound choice, why is this a problem?
Hamlet:
Companionship? He was my father’s brother, his flesh and blood. This is betrayal! Incest!
(Slight pause)
No. No. Wait. I see. I see it all. This can’t be / can it?
Horatio:
What? What can or can’t it be?
Hamlet:
This was planned. They conspired against him. They needed my father out of the way so
they could consummate their vile / partnership
Horatio:
Hamlet, don’t allow passion to trample reason. Your mother needed a husband and
Claudius a wife. There is nothing more to it.
Hamlet:
O how weary, stale, flat and unprofitable all the uses of the world now seem to me!
Horatio:
Keep calm for a moment. There is a reasonable explanation to all this.
Hamlet:
Then how do you explain it? My / father
Horatio:
I don’t have the answers. But surely you can see that there is good in this? Denmark will be
well-kept, your mother protected.
Hamlet:
My father. He must be—
Horatio:
Your father is dead.
Hamlet:
—remembered.
Horatio:
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I spoke out of line. I just don’t want you to come to harm.
Hamlet:
(Hamlet stands for a moment. He walks over to the desk and sits down)
Dispatch, Horatio. I want to be alone for a while.
Horatio:
As you wish.
Hamlet:
(He picks up a pen and begins to write. He begins to speak the speech while writing,
eventually climbing on the desk to deliver the prologue to Troilus and Cressida.)
‘In Troy there lies the scene, From isles of Greece
The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
Fraught with the ministers and instrument
Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from th’Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phyrgia, and their vow is made
To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
The ravished Helen, Menelaus’ queen,
With wanton Paris sleeps, and that’s the quarrel.’
Scene IX - ‘Hamlet’s Troilus and Cressida’
(Hamlet is alone at the desk. He is frantically writing. Enter Horatio)
Horatio:
Hamlet, I have news from Denmark.
Hamlet:
(Puts pen down)
Yes.
Horatio:
Your mother is to marry Claudius in a fortnight.
Hamlet:
Ha! She doesn’t waste her time.
Horatio:
The performance of your play is four days from now. The company has arrived in
Wittenberg and require the manuscript tomorrow.
Hamlet:
I was just in the process of applying the finishing touches. I would have you read a bit, if
you would be so kind.
Horatio:
Gladly.
Hamlet:
I want you to read the final lines of the play. Hector has just been slain. Troy is in Chaos.
Horatio:
I see, interesting, the last lines belong to Pandarus? An odd choice. I would have thought
the last lines—
Hamlet:
Just read them. Aloud.
Horatio:
‘A goodly med’cine for mine aching bones!’ What is Pandarus sick?
Hamlet:
You can ask questions at the end.
Horatio:
‘O world! World, world! Thus is the poor agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how
earnestly are you set at work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so
desired and the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What instance for it?’ Hamlet,
this is too grim.
Hamlet:
You haven’t finished yet.
Horatio:
‘Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his honey his sting.
And being once subdued in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths:
As many as be here of panders’ hall,
Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar’s fall;
Hamlet. Are you serious? Where is the actual ending? This is no time for games.
Hamlet:
Finish them.
Horatio:
‘Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my fear is this,
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss.
Till then I’ll sweat and seek about for eases,
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.
Hamlet:
(Clapping)
Bravo! Bravo! Magnificent performance.
Horatio:
You can’t conclude the tale of Troilus and Cressida with this. It’s too crude, too vulgar.
Hamlet:
Yes I can.
Horatio:
There will be outrage.
Hamlet:
This is my rage.
Horatio:
(Browsing through the script)
Here, look, these lines, finish with Troilus’s lines. Cut this final part / out
Hamlet:
The play stays as it is. Have it delivered to the company.
Horatio:
Please reconsider, for the good of the / university
Hamlet:
Now!
Horatio:
As you wish.
(Heads to the exit)
The play has no name.
Hamlet:
Call it ‘The History of Troilus and Cressida.’ No, ‘The Tragedy of Troilus and Cressida.’ Ah,
put what you wish. The title is irrelevant.
Horatio:
I hope you know what you’re doing.
(Horatio writes the name on the front of the manuscript and exits)
Hamlet:
‘Hence broker-lackey! Ignomy and shame
Pursue they life, and live aye with thy name!’
(After a pause, Hamlet moves to the desk and scatters the books and notes. He sits down)
Scene X - ‘twas caviar to the general’
(Hamlet sits at the desk. Horatio is pacing around with the script)
Hamlet:
What can I say Horatio? They don’t understand beauty.
Horatio:
Beauty? Beauty? You think that was beautiful.
Hamlet:
Yes.
Horatio:
Beauty is—That was abhorrent and distasteful. Why didn’t you listen?
Hamlet:
Creative differences.
Horatio:
No, it’s more than that.
Hamlet:
Is it? O no. Wait a moment.
(Mockingly pulls up his chair)
Why don’t you tell us what it is then. Come on. Get it all out.
Horatio:
What’s wrong with you?
Hamlet:
I’m fine. Everything is wonderful. Life is wonderful. What’s wrong with you?
Horatio:
Is this because of your mother? Ophelia? The death of your father? What’s caused this?
Hamlet:
You Horatio. You have. They have. I have. We’ve all caused this.
Horatio:
Why did you write this play?
Hamlet:
Because I wanted to. What’s wrong with it?
Horatio:
Where to begin?
Hamlet:
The start. Go on, hold no punches, Horatio.
Horatio:
It was too bleak, too wordy, made out of the fabrics of / despair
Hamlet:
Good. Keep / going
Horatio:
Too intellectual, too vulgar. And why so long? The noble visitors are outraged, they see the
whole performance as an affront to them. You have disgraced yourself.
Hamlet:
O how my achievements mock me. And what exactly should I have done? More jokes?
Wasn’t it funny enough? I thought it was hilarious.
Horatio:
Funny? Achilles the propagandist, Ajax the mindless oaf! You think that was funny? One
spectator was so outraged by the portrayal of Thersites that after the performance they
punched the actor who played the part in the face.
Hamlet:
I can’t be held responsible for the actions of idiots.
Horatio:
You are sick, Hamlet.
Hamlet:
(Starts to clap) Well done Horatio. Well done. Outstanding performance.
(Walks over to the swords)
Have you been practicing your sword?
Horatio:
Hamlet, what is this? What is this madness? Talk about it.
Hamlet:
Madness? This is not madness. I have no time for talk, Horatio.
Horatio:
Stop this or you will bring harm to yourself and everyone around you. Don’t you see?
Hamlet:
I see too much. Well, we can’t have Hamlet causing harm, can we?
(Picks up a sword. Inspects it.)
Here. Catch.
(Throws the sword at Horatio’s. Horatio catches it, dropping the manuscript)
There. I am ready. If what you say is true then the right thing to do would be to finish it.
Now. Right here.
(Moves towards Horatio)
Come, what are you waiting for? You need to finish this game. For the good of ourselves
and others. They will say I took my life due to the poor reception of the play. Become the
hero, Horatio. Be the one they never forget. Finish Hamlet. End it.
(They struggle)
Horatio:
Enough. Enough!
(Throws the sword away)
I will not be a part of this.
Hamlet:
Then you will be as guilty as me.
(Walks over to the coat stand, puts on his jacket)
Farewell, Horatio. No doubt I will see you in Denmark. If not, I wish you well.
(Begins to exit)
Oh, one last thing. Destroy the manuscript and the papers on the desk. The play dies in
Wittenberg.
(Exits)
Horatio:
O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown.
(He walks over to the desk, collects the papers and destroys them. He begins to exit, but
stops when he notices the manuscript on the floor. He tears the first page off and then
places it on the desk. He exits.)
[End]
Epilogue - Let good food not go to waste
[Enter a man. He is played by the man who performed Hamlet. He is now dressed in
different clothes. He is wearing an ear-ring in his left-ear and a beard. He walks over to
the desk. He discovers Hamlet’s manuscript. He flicks through it for a while. He then
looks up at the audience, puts the script under his coat, smiles, then exits]