Drama
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This monologue is from a play that came about as an outgrowth of a college acting class assignment, in which each student had to write an autobiography of the character he or she would be portraying in a scene that would serve as a final project (i.e. we had to tell the story of our character’s life up to the point he or she first appeared in the play we were assigned). My character was Hamlet, which indicated to me that his early story would have to be written in the same language, speech pattern, etc. as his later story had been written by the original author — in this case, of course, meaning blank verse. For whatever reason, my professor had not been expecting such a literal translation of the assignment, and truly shocked me with her overwhelmingly positive reaction (“This is a whole play in itself!”), insisting from that moment on that I perform not a scene from Hamlet as my final project, but a portion instead of my own Hamlet-related work.
It was subsequently at her urging, therefore, that I went on to create several additional autobiographies for characters from Hamlet, and in the interest of giving them a practical use outside the classroom, I eventually combined them into this one-act play (which went on to be selected as a finalist in a national playwriting competition, and in various productions of which I also had the privilege of performing).
Gertrude:
O, can it be that I was once a maid,
Carefree, and full of the wonder of life
Which did then lay before me to unfold
And unmask the endless joys in my conceit?
Strange as it now seems, indeed, once ’twas so.
Once I liv’d in blessed peace, a daughter
Of one who served the father of the father
Of my Hamlet, a king who sired two kings …
In those days knew I not I would be queen,
Though, this hope I must admit I did possess;
Yet to be twice so in my lifetime crown’d
Would I have dreaded far beyond my hope.
Indeed, ’twas not the title I desired,
But the means whereby I would obtain it –
The elder son of him who was then king
Did mine eyes follow, prompted by my heart,
And when I knew that I had won his love
My joy could not great Denmark’s bounds contain!
No joy did I then think could e’er surpass
That which fill’d my heart the day we wed;
Yet, soon I was to find this was untrue,
For when I gave birth to our only child,
A living symbol of love eternal,
Born of the sacred coupling of two souls –
Then did I know my joy was made complete.
And, when still radiant with his victory
O’er his enemy,Norway’s Fortinbras
Did my husband, the new father, return,
O, what pride did swell that kingly heart!
Upon first gazing on Denmark’s new prince
So great was the happiness of the king
That he did feel compelled to share his blessing
With all the peoples the world o’er,
And called for such festivities asElsinore
Had ne’er yet seen, and, I fear, the like of which
These aged walls will not soon see again …
How good it was to see King Hamlet laugh
At the antics of the new clown, Yorick,
And the radiance of his loyal subjects.
For, his gaity did not flow freely then
By cause of grief over his father’s death
Which had come to pass a short while ere.
Too noble to possess vaulting ambition,
Long had he dreaded the day he would be king;
And when the news did on that sad day come
That while riding not far from the castle
With my husband’s brother, Claudius,
The king had taken ill and shortly died,
What melancholy filled the new king’s heart
Despite the attempts of his brother and
Myself to help him peace and healing find.
Yet, when at last the double blessing
Of great triumph and renewal of life
For him on the same day occurred,
Contentment once again did on him rest.
And, though his father could not be forgot
Indeed, the void that in his heart had ope’d
Following his loss did that day begin to fill,
And the sun return’d to shine once more
In Elsinore’s clear and beauteous sky.
O, what blessed days did we then share
Dimm’d only by the king’s too oft made journeys
Necessitated by th’ affairs of state.
How sad were I and the young prince on days
When he would bid us a loving farewell
And charge to Claudius our protection,
Who, with the servant, Polonius,
Did provide us well with ev’ry comfort.
Still, did we long for the king to return
And spring nimbly from his steed to greet us.
Ay me, those were such painless blissful days!
Oft then, Polonius’ son, Laertes,
In years like to our young Hamlet,
Would spend countless hours in play with him,
And, with blunt sticks to serve as rapiers,
They would fight pretended duels and all such
Games as young boys are wont to engage in.
What a sad intrusion on his childhood
That good Laertes was so young stripp’d
Of the most fair and gracious angel
That was his mother, requir’d of Heav’n
On the day his sister did to Earth descend
To become his well deserved comfort.
Polonius, who had serv’d with honor
Th’ old king, was raised to higher office
By the compassion of my husband
Who felt deeply the burden of his loss.
For my part, I did all that could be done
To help Laertes and Ophelia,
Left to brave the world without a mother,
Rest assur’d they’d always know a mother’s love.
And my sweet Hamlet, though still of tender age
Did shed tears of grief for his young friend’s loss
And for the babe he look’d on with great wonder …
Happily, the wounds of Polonius
And Laertes, though p’raps not heal’d
Did in time lose the potency of their sting,
And dear Ophelia, who ne’er felt the loss
Was spar’d by their best efforts and my own
Premature knowledge of the harshnesses
Of this world …
Ne’er did a more sweet and loving child
Grace the arms of any mother –
Her face, a reflection of Heav’n itself,
Her spirit, of angel’s breath compos’d –
How could it be else but that as Hamlet
Grew in stature and in heart, he did her
Come to love; ’twas as though God’s wisdom
Had for each th’ other provided,
And I look with happiness to the day
Methinks shall come when they as one be join’d …
Yet, that is in the future; for today
It is my hope that Ophelia’s love
Might assay to depart the great sorrow
That my Hamlet doth now bear.
The loss of so noble a father
Was a great shock to such a gentle heart.
And the comfort I do so wish to offer
Hath been rejected by cause of the marriage
I did enter into as the means
Of seeking comfort for mine own distressed heart.
Indeed, do I know that he hath reason
To be angered with the wedding’s haste.
Yet – must he know I lov’d his father well,
And that my heart can be as deeply cut
As that which beats within the breast of him,
Who is of mine own heart and flesh compos’d.
Doth not he know I could not bear such loss
Without the strength supplied by one
Much stronger than myself?
This strength from Hamlet’s uncle did come
So tenderly that I could not refuse ‘t,
Nor find reason at all that I should do so.
Was not he, beside dear Hamlet and myself,
The best lov’d in all Denmark by my husband?
‘Tis common in nature to cling to one
Most trusted by the one one did most trust.
The king himself oft placed me in his charge –
Ah, yes, ’tis true that wisdom cried “Delay”.
Alas, the mind in torment oft forgets
The lessons learnt in happiness and health …
And yet, delay would not events have changed,
So, to what purpose act propriety
For the benefit of those who watch’d
And the detriment of me who felt – ?
Ay me, but to think on might have been
Is surely not worth th’ expense of thought.
What yet remains then to be pondered
Is that which might yet be accomplish’d
To speed return of that bright love
Once shar’d by my dearest Hamlet and myself …
Not only for the sake of mine own heart
And that of my beloved Hamlet
Do I wish the sunshine to return,
But as well for all at Elsinore
Where my son is ‘bove all others ador’d,
And all now share with him in sorrow
As they once shared with him in happiness.
His friend, Horatio, hath expended
His greatest effort to restore his peace
As hath Ophelia, and e’en the clowns.
Profit thus far hath not to them come.
Yet, do I believe that in God’s mercy
The gift of time will supply their efforts
And Hamlet will smile on us all once more.
Then shall joy be restor’d to the subjects
Who will one day belong to him in word
As they so long have in love and deed …
Ah, I pray that God might grant me length of years
To see Hamlet and his future queen be wed,
And share their joy at birth of a sweet prince
To bless their lives as mine own hath bless’d me.
Yet, in prayer my soul yearns deeper still
That their blessings ne’er with pain be mingl’d
To mar the beauty of their memories
As ‘t hath stolen in to mar my own.
God, be merciful as thou art mighty
That Denmark’s days of mourning soon end
And the poison’d tears that Heav’n hath let drop
Be dried by the healing warmth of the sun;
Then may Elsinore be clothed in peace
E’en as I was once clothed in purity …
