Work Text:
Scene 1 - The Proposal
Queen: How dare you! Your brother laid to rest before one full turn of seasons! I still wear black for my love and you presume—You ask me to dress in bride’s white. You disgrace his memory!
King: I disgrace his memory? Never! I protect him, my brother whom I loved more than life itself. Moreover, I protect our country. I know your grief consumes you, for I feel my own gnawing at my hollowed heart. But we are not low beasts, content to lie consumed by grief. We are royalty. We have a duty to Denmark. I dare not ignore the chaos that lurks beyond the horizon if we allow an election. With young Fortinbras waiting just outside of view, licking his chops like a wolf awaiting a moment of weakness from the herd. His band of mercenaries grow closer every day! Who will rule Denmark, Gertrude, if not us?
Queen: Hamlet.
King: Fah, Hamlet? What does he know of ruling? A boy far away at the university, what does he know of Denmark?
Queen: You call him boy, yet he is a man already thirty years—
King: He is still in school. Unwilling to settle down and assume his duties. He frolics off to wherever he wishes, fooling with maidens and youths. Would you have me call him man? He is as wild as young Fortinbras and even less experienced. Untested and overconfident, he would lead us to ruin, with the people fawning over his sweetness the whole way. No, he cannot protect our beloved Denmark. While he may look a man he is still a child.
Queen: I’ll thank you not to speak thus of my son.
King: And my beloved nephew. These words pain me, but can you deny their truth? Do you not hear the chime of honesty between the words of pain?
Queen: You speak true.
King: Then you see it is the only solution that we should wed. Brother and wife to the old King. No claim to the throne could be stronger than ours. Forged in blood and dedication. We will take the throne without election. Our herd will stay strong. Denmark will be saved. For her people. For Hamlet.
Scene 2 - The Madness
King: Our son has gone quite mad, my love.
Queen: I will not hear this!
King: Beloved, you must. We must face this sickness that festers within Hamlet, else it grows into a wild beast and consumes him.
Queen: No, no no. I will not hear of it. There is no madness. He is simply love-struck by the fair Ophelia-
King: You did not witness him today. If it was his love for the girl that drove him mad, it was not a love I would wish upon her. He attacked her like a wild animal!
Queen: No!
King: Indeed! He screamed like there was a devil within him. Begged and threatened that she leave. To a nunnery! To a nunnery! He shrieked. And called her a painted woman.
Queen: But she had never loved another before or after him. She was devoted to Hamlet.
King: The darkness within Hamlet is far more than love’s call.
Queen: You do not think he can be saved!
King: I did not say that.
Queen: But you think that. And you care not.
King: Of course I care. I love the boy as if he was my own son. I rule this kingdom so that one day he may take the throne. But I must…
Queen: Must what?
King: I must beg of you—Perhaps if you do this, he may be saved. Speak to him. Listen as a mother to her son and let him tell you his mind. He trusts you more than any other. He will tell you the truth. And you will see his madness, and its root. You may help him, to cleanse him of this evil. You may be his only hope.
Scene 3 - The Betrayal
Queen: Can I lie to him? But I have no choice, no choice. I must, for Hamlet. All for Hamlet. My babe whom I nursed, whom I raised, whom I loved. I vowed to protect you, oh how I have failed, Hamlet. The kingdom I so desperately grasped at, trying to unite. It falls apart between my fingers. Like a spinning wheel turned backwards, thread unraveling. Unraveling. How shall I lie to him without it unraveling. What words shall I speak? What is there to say before a man who is so well versed in the lie he has become more lie than man? Do I have any hope of tricking him? I must. I shall start with the truth. A boy. A murder. The boy seems mad. I shall speak of my son, as mad as the sea and the wind as they storm. I shall add compassion. The boy is pitiful, he cries when he sees what the beast within him has wrought. This boy would never have had cause to mistrust Claudius. He would never tell me all of my husband’s lies. For he would not know of them. This boy suspects nothing. This wife suspects nothing. And I must believe this lie, for Hamlet. I must protect him from Claudius, no matter what the cost.