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ROS considers the floor slaps it.

ROS: Nice bit of planking, that.

GUIL: Yes, I'm very fond of boats myself. I like the way they're --contained. You don't have to worry about which way to go, or whether to go at all-the question doesn't arise, because you're on a boat, aren't you? Boats are safe areas in the game of tag... the players will hold their positions until the music starts... I think I'll spend most on boats.

ROS: Very healthy.

ROS inhales with expectation, exhales with boredom stands up and looks over the audience.

GUIL: One is free on a boat. For a time. Relatively.

ROS: What it like?

GUIL: Rough.

ROS joins him. They look out over the audience.

ROS: I think I'm going to be sick.

GUIL licks a finger, holds it up experimentally.

GUIL: Other side, I think.

ROS goes upstage: Ideally a sort of upper deck joined to the downstage lower deck by short steps. The umbrella being on the upper deck. ROS pauses by the umbrella an behind it. GUIL meanwhile has been resuming his -looking out over the audience Free to move, speak, extemporise, and yet.

We have cut loose. Our truancy is defined by one fixed our drift represents merely a slight change of angle to it: we may seize the moment, toss it around while I pass, a short dash here, an exploration there, but we are brought round full circle to face again the single fact-that we, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern bearing a letter from one king to another, are taking Hamlet.

By which time, ROS has returned, tiptoeing with teeth clenched for secrecy, gets to GUIL , points surreptitiously behind him-and a tight whisper.

ROS: I say-he's there!

GUIL ( unsurprised): What's he doing?

ROS: Sleeping.

GUIL: Its all right for him.

ROS: What is?

GUIL: He can sleep.

ROS: It's all right for him.

GUIL: He's got us now.

ROS: He can sleep.

GUIL: It's all done for him.

ROS: He's got us.

GUIL: And weve got nothing. ( A cry. ) All I ask is our common due!

ROS: For those in peril on the sea...

GUIL: Give us this day our daily cue.

Beat, pause.

Sit.

Long pause.

ROS ( after shifting, looking around): What now?

GUIL: What do you mean?

ROS: Well, nothing is happening.

GUIL: We're on a boat.

ROS: I'm aware of that.

GUIL ( angrily): Then what do you expect? ( Unhappily. ) We act on scraps of information...

sifting half-remembered directions that we can hardly separate from instinct.

ROS puts a hand into his purse, then both hands behind his back, then holds his fists out. GUIL taps one fist. ROS opens it to show a coin. He gives it to GUIL . He puts his hand back into his purse. Then both hands behind his back, then holds his fists out.

GUIL taps one. ROS opens it to show a coin. He gives it to GUIL Repeat. Repeat.

GUIL getting tense. Desperate to lose. Repeat. GUIL taps a hand, changes his mind, taps the other, and ROS inadvertently reveals that he has a coin in both fists.

GUIL: You had money in both hands.

ROS ( embarrassed): Yes.

GUIL: Every time?

ROS: Yes.

GUIL: What's the point of that?

ROS ( pathetic): I wanted to make you happy.

Beat.

GUIL: How much did he give you?

ROS: Who?

GUIL: The King. He gave us some money.

ROS: How much did he give you?

GUIL: I asked you first.

ROS: I got the same as you.

GUIL: He wouldn't discriminate between us.

ROS: How much did you get?

GUIL: The Same.

ROS: How do you know?

GUIL: You just told me-how do you know?

ROS: He wouldn't discriminate between us.

GUIL: Even if he could.

ROS: Which he never could.

GUIL: He couldn't even be sure of mixing us up.

ROS: Without mixing us up.

GUIL ( turning on him furiously): Why don't you say something original! No wonder the whole thing is so stagnant! You don't take me up on anything-you just repeat it in a different order.

ROS: I can't think of anything original. I'm only good in support.

GUIL: I'm sick of making the running.

ROS ( humbly): It must be your dominant personality. ( Almost in tears. ) Oh, what's going to become of us!

And GUIL comforts him, all harshness gone.

GUIL: Don't cry... it's all right... there... there, I'll see we're all right.

ROS: But we've got nothing to go on, we're out on our own.

GUIL: We're on our way to England-we're taking Hamlet there.

ROS: What for?

GUIL: What for? Where have you been?

ROS: When? ( Pause. ) We won't know what to do when we get there.

GUIL: We take him to the King.

ROS: Will he be there?

GUIL: No---the king of England.

ROS: He's expecting us?

GUIL: No.

ROS: He wont know what we're playing at. What are we going to say?

GUIL: We've got a letter. You remember the letter.

ROS: Do I?

GUIL: Everything is explained in the letter. We count on that.

ROS: Is that it, then?

GUIL: What?

ROS: We take Hamlet to the English king, we hand over the letter-what then?

GUIL: There may be something in the letter to keep us going a bit.

ROS: And if not?

GUIL: Then that's it-we're finished.

ROS: At a loose end?

GUIL: Yes.

Pause.

ROS: Are there likely to be loose ends? ( Pause. ) Who is the English king?

GUIL: That depends on when we get there.

ROS: What do you think it says?

GUIL: Oh... greetings. Expressions of loyalty. Asking of favours calling in of debts. Obscure promises balanced by vague threats... Diplomacy. Regards to the family.

ROS: And about Hamlet?

GUIL: Oh yes.

ROS: And us-the full background?

GUIL: I should say so.

Pause.

ROS: So we've got a letter which explains everything.

GUIL: You've got it.

ROS takes that literally. He starts to pat his pockets, etc.

What's the matter?

ROS: The letter.

GUIL: Have you got it?

ROS ( rising fear): Have I? ( Searches frantically. ) Where would I have put it?

GUIL: You can't have lost it.

ROS: I must have!

GUIL: That's odd-I thought he gave it to me.

ROS looks at him hopefully.

ROS: Perhaps he did.

GUIL: But you seemed so sure it was you who hadn't got it.

ROS ( high): It was me who hadn't got it!

GUIL: But if he gave it to me there no reason why you should have had it in the first place, in which case I don't see what all the fuss is about you not having it.

ROS ( pause): I admit its confusing.

GUIL: This Is all getting rather undisciplined... The boat, the night, the sense of isolation and uncertainty... all these induce a loosening of the concentration. We must not lose control. Tighten up. Now. Either you have lost the letter or you didn't have It to lose in the first place, in which case the King never gave it to you, in which case he gave it to me, in which case I would have put it into my inside top pocket, in which case ( calmly producing the letter)... it will be... hem. ( They smile at each other. ) We mustn't drop off like that again.