-------
Hamlet: Act III, scene (ii), verses 226-241
First Player – Mick Poultice
Second Player – Katie Slivers
Hamlet – Sean Oliveson
Queen – Shirley Miller
SECOND PLAYER (
as Queen):
Nor earth to give me food, nor heaven light,
Sport and repose lock from me day and night,
To desperation turn my trust and hope,
An anchor’s cheer in prison be my scope,
Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
Meet what I would have well, and it destroy,
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
If, once a widow, ever I be wife!
HAMLET (
aside):
If she should break it now!
FIRST PLAYER (as King):
‘Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile.
My spirits grow dull, and fein I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.
SECOND PLAYER (as Queen):
Sleep rock thy brain,
And never come mischance between us twain!
The Player-King sleeps. Exit the Player-Queen
HAMLET:
Madam, how like you this play?
QUEEN:
The lady doth protest too much, methinks
HAMLET:
O, but she’ll keep her word.
-------
Throughout the scene, Sean was distracted by occasional sniggering coming from the direction of the non-playing players. Looking behind him, he was shocked to catch a brief glimpse of a highly pornographic (and some would say controversial) image which briefly projected onto the set, before it all reverted again to the serene backdrop of Elsinore. The actors were mostly unaware, although some were now turning to look at the set, alerted by Sean’s alarm. Sophie, sat at the controls, was pretending not to notice. Danny was no-where to be seen. Ignoring it, and not entirely sure that it wasn’t a product of his over-stretched, over-tired brain’s idle imaginings, Sean focussed back on the job in hand.
Danny was hiding behind the control panel, camera jacked into the port. He had managed to get some hilarious shots of everyone that day. The dry run with the subliminal porn had been a success, and he was looking forward to seeing people react when he did the same with the pictures he had taken. Sean wouldn’t be happy, but then Sean was taking this all far too seriously – he needed to relax, and this would surely help. Danny hadn’t checked what other images there might be stored on the device, though. That was his first mistake. Sophie gave him a conspiratorial pat on the shoulder, indicating the next bit was starting.
“Danny?” called Sean.
Danny crawled out from behind the console, and pretended to walk in from offstage.
“What is it?”
“Hurry up, it’s you!”
“OK” said Danny, smiling to himself.
-------
Hamlet: Act III, scene (ii), verses 264-279
Third Player – Danny Oliveson
Hamlet – Sean Oliveson
Ophelia – Katie Slivers
Queen – Shirley Miller
Polonius – David Miller
King – Roger Oliveson
THIRD PLAYER (
As Lucianus):
Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing,
Confederate season, else no creature seeing,
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
With Hecat’s ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magic and dire property
On wholesome life usurps immediately.
He pours poison in the King’s ears
-------
Gentle waves of laughter interrupted the scene, as pictures of various cast members gurning and clowning around with costumes replaced the normal backdrop. Danny smiled in a satisfied kind of a way. Sean opened his mouth to protest, but couldn’t help laughing himself as a picture of David tripping over his scabbard appeared, as it got caught in his pantaloons. Fortunately for Sean, the novelty of the super large snaps wore off after a couple of minutes, and the actors were able to continue reading whilst the slideshow kept on running.
-------
HAMLET: ‘A poisons him i’th’garden for his estate. His name’s Gonzago. The story is extent, and written in very choice Italian. You shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago’s wife.
-------
Behind Sean, the pictures changed from those of exuberant players to what appeared to be Roger and Betty enjoying a night out at a bar. A gigantic image appeared of Betty clutching a glass of wine. Roger Oliveson’s face suddenly became a mask of extreme concern.
-------
OPHELIA:The King rises.
HAMLET:What, frightened with false fire?
OPHELIA:How fares my lord?
-------
Roger had quite forgotten he was a key part of the scene, and was now making his way towards Sophie at the control panel with no small degree of urgency. At Roger’s insistence Sophie began pushing buttons in a frantic attempt to stop the slideshow.
-------
POLONIUS: Give o’er the play.
KING: Stop the pictures!
POLONIUS: What the?
-------
Roger and Betty’s night out had given way to what appeared to be an image of Shirley’s chest. And she wasn’t wearing anything, either. This was followed by a definite image of Roger’s flushed but smiling visage. There was a clatter of feet, and Danny wasn’t there any more.
“What the?” David stammered.
“MAKE IT STOP” wailed Roger.
“Oh sweet Mary mother of god.” said Sean. Things had been going so well. “Jesus H Christ on a
unicycle… Gordon Bennett sitting astride a….”
“You said you deleted them… oh my god I’m so sorry” said Shirley, looking grimly at David, ready
for a reaction from him.
Sophie finally managed to stop the images from cycling. Unfortunately they stopped with a clear image of Roger’s face where clearly Roger’s face really shouldn’t have been. Buried in Shirley’s ample cleavage. Still, could have been worse. Well, perhaps not.
Sean was expecting a bloodbath. Strangely though, given something to get really angry about, David Miller remained calm. All the pettiness and backbiting became clear to Sean. David’s insecurity was palpable. But now it was confirmed as justified… he didn’t need to fight what fate was throwing at him. There was no point. In spite of his maroon pantaloons, in spite of the betrayal by his wife, in spite of everything – Sean had never seen the man appear so dignified.
Shirley left immediately, tearfully, respectfully. Roger, likewise, tried to scurry away, but didn’t get very far.
“You’re not going anywhere! Sit down.” snarled Betty. Roger did as he was told, looking fearful for his life.
Betty sat, clutching her knitting, face grimacing in fury. You wouldn’t want to be Roger at that moment, really you wouldn’t. Sean was already left with half a cast, but he feared he might be left with half a set of parents by the end of it. For the first time during the entire week, the actors all fell silent. Each member of the family contemplated what the revelations meant to them. The teenagers just stared, goggle eyed, at the frozen image. For Sean, his sense of the secret lives of his parents grew, his understanding of them as real people with real frustrations and temptations and passions and… lives. They didn’t just exist to serve him any more, as he supposed they always had in his mind. He wondered what else he didn’t know, what other feelings they buried for the sake of their children. Thought about how selfish he had been, all along.
It was hard, though, for Sean to be accepting of his fate as David was. He was still relatively young, had yet to be scarred by constant compromise and disappointment. Maybe he fought too much. Maybe he complained too much. Maybe he wanted too much from his life, for a robot maintenance technician doomed to spend an eternity adrift in space. The awareness coursed through him, though. He was not alone, he never had been. They were all in it together. He was frustrated with himself – he missed Claire. Maybe everyone needed more leeway to make mistakes, or to vent their frustration. Maybe she knew this. Maybe this would all turn out OK. He was lucky, he supposed…. it could have been worse.
“Right!” said David Miller, suddenly. “Shall we get on with this?”
Sean looked up, surprised. They better had, he supposed. He strolled over to the projector and switched it off. He was pleased to find that he seemed to be rather good in a real crisis. More specifically, someone else’s crisis. Mick looked as if he really wanted to say something, but instead looked on. Sean swiftly made to draft in Katie as a temporary Queen, to which she elegantly assented.
“Nope!” said Betty, an uncomfortable edge to her tone. “I’ll do it!”
“Mum, are you sure..” Sean was concerned.
“I’ll do it” Betty said softly, a hint of a tear in her eye.
Roger looked at Betty as if seeking guidance.
“Go on, you worthless turd” she said.
-------
Hamlet: Act III, scene (iii), verses 37-47
King – Roger Oliveson
KING:
O, my offence is rank. It smells to heaven.
It hath th eprimal eldest curse upon’t,
A brother’s murder. Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharp as will.
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,
And like a man to double business bound
I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood,
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
But to confront the visage of offence?
-------
“Oh, you’ll confront it alright” Betty said, loudly.
Roger, who until that moment had sounded like he was reading at the muzzle of a shotgun, lost his nerve completely, and fled the room in panic. It wasn’t pleasant to see a father figure, still less your actual father, break down like that. Sean didn’t know what to do, so created a convenient mental wall of denial, and called Mick over about the play. Throughout the rehearsal Mick had stood, open mouthed, watching someone else’s family fall apart. He wasn’t sure what he thought really, but the phrase ‘this isn’t fun any more’ definitely came to mind. He had been very focussed on the play, right from the start, and what began as a freak show was something he had begun to take very seriously. Now that it had become a backdrop for playing out the family’s darkest dramas he saw the very real risk of his opportunity slipping away.
“Mick? Do you mind playing the King, just for a little while?” Sean was all business.
“Sean.” Mick, said, ignoring the question.
“Yes Mick?”
“How do you think it’s going today?”
“Quite well?” Sean replied, hopefully.
Mick slowly shook his head.
“Ah I thought not. I kind of hoped you wouldn’t…”
“Notice?” Mick shook his head again, even more slowly this time.
“Sean, I think we need to do something dramatic, to detract from the… erm…. “
“Tension? Trauma? Pain that EVERYONE in the family is feeling? Confusion?” Sean was getting to
the point where he’d had enough of all this.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Sean, but I think that playing the main part is making it hard for
you to help some of the other… erm.. ‘less able’ actors.”
“So you think I’m a really good actor, do you Mick?” Sean was deluded, but he wasn’t that deluded.
“The best!”
“Right.”
“Sean, I know you’ve done a lot for your family, and you want to help them to get through this. But
perhaps, for their sake, you need to take a step back. Maybe relinquish some RESPONSIBILITY”
The word rang loud in Sean’s head. It was something Claire talked about a lot. It didn’t really apply to the play though. In this context, the only thing Sean had ever been taking responsibility for was his ass. Mick, for the first time, was showing some naivety.
“So, the whole play..” Mick continued, “and, indeed, your ass, would perhaps benefit from focussing on bringing everyone together…”
Well, perhaps not.
“You want to be Hamlet don’t you Mick” Sean interrupted.
“Erm, well… I just think..”
“Mick, just tell me you want to be Hamlet”
“… well, Sean..”
“MICK?”
“I want to be Hamlet, please.”
“Fine, be Hamlet then.”
Sean felt slightly melancholy about giving up the lead role, and sacrificing his dream. Deep down though he honestly didn’t care any more. There were all Mick’s parts still to play, what’s more the events of the day had shifted his focus. Maybe it was time to concentrate on what he was good at. Maybe it was time to make the most of what he already had. Maybe even, somewhere along the line, he’d actually learned something.
“Anyway,” Sean added, “I don’t think I could kill David, not now.”
“What?” asked Mick, alarmed.
“Next scene, Mick. I was looking forward to it, but..”
“Ah I see. Well, shall we…” Mick grabbed a little sword.
“Righto, let’s crack on.” Sean said, steeling himself and preparing his own bubble of forlorn dignity for
the announcement of the change in the cast.
Once again Sean gathered what was left of the group together. It had become a sorry gang, most looking for some kind of exit strategy.
“Right!”
“Right!” someone mocked. Probably Stanley.
“Look, it’s been a hard day, I know that. I think a lot of what has happened has been my fault. I’ve been obsessed with this play, but not with the people who make it happen. You. This is your play. This is your chance, for once in your lives, to do something different, something you’ll be proud to tell your kids and your grandkids about. You need to remember this for the right reasons. That’s why I’ve given up the role of Hamlet to Mick here, to concentrate on getting this right. So no more excuses, no more affairs or violence or tantrums or walkouts. Because this is about you, not me. Let’s do it.”
There was a little buzz in the room, suddenly. Mainly, truth be told, because everyone was glad they wouldn’t have to listen to Sean reading any more. But at least partly, in some cases, because they got it. This wasn’t something that happened every day, which made it special. Which would always make it special.
-------
Hamlet: Act III, scene (iv), verses 14-33
Hamlet – Mick Poultice
Queen – Betty Oliveson
Polonius – David Miller
QUEEN:
Why, how now, Hamlet?
HAMLET:
What’s the matter now?
QUEEN:
Have you forgot me?
HAMLET:
No, by the Rood, not so!
You are the Queen, your husband’s brother’s wife,
And, would it were not so, you are my mother.
QUEEN:
Nay, then I’ll set those to you that can speak.
HAMLET:
Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge.
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you.
QUEEN:
What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me?
Help, ho!
POLONIUS (behind):
What, ho! Help!
HAMLET (drawing his sword):
How now? A rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!
He makes a thrust through the arras and kills Polonius
POLONIUS:
O, I am slain!
QUEEN:
O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET:
Nay, I know not. Is it the King?
QUEEN:
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET:
A bloody deed – almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king and marry with his brother.
QUEEN:
As kill a king!
HAMLET:
Ay, lady, it was my word.
He sees Polonius
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
I took thee for thy better.
-------
Betty read like a drain, but it didn’t matter. There was a new energy in the scene. Unfortunately it had to stop, because of the amount of groaning coming from the floor.
“hmm, you’re right Sean, that did feel a bit hollow” said Mick, examining the tip of his sword.
“aaaagh” groaned David Miller, who was still rolling around the floor in agony.
“Mick you’re not supposed to actually kill him!” Sean chastised.
Although the swords were blunt, they could still give a nasty dig if you thrust hard enough, and Mick, hopeless ham that he was, had been a little over-vigorous with the stabbing. David hacked up some blood and crawled to the side of the stage, on his hands and knees. It looked really convincing, but Sean was reasonably sure that Mick wouldn’t get the chance to repeat it on the night. David may have been paranoid, unpleasant and self-deluded, but he wasn’t totally stupid. Sean didn’t allow the incident to distract his cast, and threw himself into the director’s role with renewed vigour, drawing a new and unanticipated respect from his charges. Katie looked up at him, expectant and beautiful and surprisingly vulnerable, as he called her forward for the next scene, and boldly took on the role of the King. The rehearsal had been very hard for her to watch, and the scene was equally hard for her to act.
-------
Hamlet: Act IV, scene (v), verses 37-69
Queen – Betty Oliveson
Ophelia – Katie Slivers
King – Sean Oliveson
OPHELIA:(sings) Larded all with sweet flowers,
Which bewept to the ground did not go
With true-love showers.
KING:How do you, pretty lady?
OPHELIA:Well, God dild you! They say the owl was a
baker’s daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know
not what we may be. God be at your table!
KING:
Conceit upon her father –
OPHELIA:Pray let’s have no word of this, but when they
ask you what it means, say you this:
(sings)
Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window
To be your Valetine.
Then up he rose and donned his clothes,
And dupped the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.
KING:Pretty Ophelia!
OPHELIA:Indeed, la, without an oath, I’ll make an end
on’t
(sings)
By Gis and by Saint Charity,
Alack, and fie for shame!
Young men will do’t if they come to’t
By Cock, they are to blame.
Quoth she, ‘Before you tumbled me,
You promised me to wed.’
He answers:
‘So would I ha’ done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.’
-------
There was, of course, the genuine feeling that Ophelia MKII was so fair, and so fragile, and so very convincing, that the other actors raised their level substantially. Especially Sean. Betty gently touched the girl’s arm as the scene finished.
“Are you alright, dear?”
“Acting.” said Katie, wiping a tear from her reddening eyes.
