The PLAYER starts to speak, protestation, but GUIL turns on him viciously.
The very air stinks.
The PLAYER moves back. GUIL moves down to the footlights and turns.
Come here, Alfred.
ALFRED moves down and stands, frightened and small.
( Gently. ) Do you lose often?
ALFRED: Yes, Sir.
GUIL: Then what could you have left to lose?
ALFRED: Nothing, sir.
Pause. GUIL regards him.
GUIL: Do you like being... an actor?
ALFRED: No, sir.
GUIL looks around, at the audience.
GUIL: You and I, Alfred---we could create a dramatic precedent here.
And ALFRED , who has been near tears, starts to sniffle.
Come, come, Alfred, this is no way to fill the theatres of Europe.
The PLAYER has moved down, GUIL cuts him oft again.
( Viciously. ) Do you know any good plays?
to remonstrate with ALFRED .
PLAYER: Plays?
ROS ( Coming forward, faltering Shyly): Exhibitions...
GUIL: I thought you said you were actors.
PLAYER ( dawning): Oh. Oh well, we are. We are. But there hasn't been much call GUIL: You lost. Well then --- one of the Greeks, perhaps? You're familiar with the tragedies of antiquity, are you? The great homicidal classics? Matri, patri, fratri, sorrori, uxori and it goes without saying
ROS: Saucy--- --Suicidal-hm? Maidens aspiring to godheads
ROS: And vice versa
GUIL: Your kind of thing, is it?
PLAYER: Well, no, I can't say it is, really. We're more of the blood, love and rhetoric school.
GUIL: Well, I'll leave the choice to you, if there is anything to choose between them.
PLAYER: They're hardly divisible, sir---well, I can do you blood and love without the rhetoric, and I can do you blood and rhetoric without the love, and I can do you all three concurrent or consecutive, but I can't do you love and rhetoric without the blood.
Blood is compulsory---they' all blood, you see.
GUIL: Is that what people want?
PLAYER: It's what we do. ( Small pause. He turns away. )
GUIL touches ALFRED On the shoulder.
GUIL: ( wry, gentle): Thank you; we'll let you know.
The PLAYER has moved upstage. ALFRED follows.
PLAYER ( to TRAGEDIANS): Thirty-eight!
ROS ( moving across, fascinated and hopeful): Position?
PLAYER: Sir?
ROS: One of your--- tableaux?
PLAYER: No, sir.
ROS: Oh.
PLAYER ( to the TRAGEDIANS now departing with their cart, air taking various props off it): Entrances there and there ( indicating upstage).
The PLAYER has not moved his position for his last four lines. He does not move now.
GUIL waits.
GUIL: Well... aren't you going to change into your costume?
PLAYER: I never change out of it, sir.
GUIL: Always in character.
PLAYER: That's it.
Pause.
GUIL: Aren't you going to-come on?
PLAYER: I am on.
GUIL: But if you are on, you Can't Come On. Can you?
PLAYER: I start on.
GUIL: But it hasn't started. Go on. Well look out for you.
PLAYER: I'll give you a wave.
He does not move. His immobility is now pointed, and getting awkward. Pause. ROS
walks tip to him till they are face to face.
ROS: Excuse me.
Pause. The PLAYER lifts his downstage foot. It was covering GUIL 'S Coin. ROS puts his foot on the coin. Smiles.
Thank you.
The PLAYER turns and goes. ROS has bent for the coin.
GUIL ( Moving out): Come On.
ROS: I say---that was lucky.
GUIL ( turning): What?
ROS: It was tails.
He tosses the coin to GUIL who catches It. Simultaneously a lighting change sufficient to alter the exterior mood into interior, but nothing violent. And OPHELIA runs On in some alarm, holding up her skirts---followed by HAMLET . OPHELIA has been sewing and she holds the garment. They are both mute. HAMLET , with his doublet all unbraced, no hat upon his head, his stockings fouled, ungartered and down-gyved to his ankle, pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other... and with a look so piteous, he takes her by the wrist and holds her hard, then he goes to the length of his arm, and with his other hand over his brow, falls to such perusal of her face as he would draw it... At last, with a little shaking of his arm, and thrice his head waving up and down, he raises a sigh so piteous and profound that it does seem to shatter all his bulk and end his being. That done he lets her go, and with his head over his shoulder turned, he goes out backwards without taking his eyes off her... she runs off in the opposite direction. ROS and GUIL have frozen. GUIL unfreezes first. He jumps at ROS .
GUIL: Come on!
But a flourish---enter CLAUDIUS and GERTRUDE , attended.
CLAUDIUS: Welcome, dear Rosencrantz... ( he raises a hand at GUIL while ROS bows---
GUIL bows late and hurriedly)... and Guildenstern. He raises a hand at ROS while GUIL bows to him---ROS is still straightening up from his previous bow and halfway up he bows down again. With his head down, he twists to look at GUIL, who is on the way up. Moreover that we did much long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty Sith nor th'exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him, So much from th'understanding of himself, I cannot dream of. I entreat you both That, being of so young days brought up with him And sith so neighboured to his youth and haviour That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time, so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus, That opened lies within our remedy.
GERTRUDE: Good ( fractional suspense) gentlemen. They both bow. He hath much talked of you, And sure I am, two men there is not living To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and goodwill As to expand your time with us awhile For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.
ROS: Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.
GUIL: But we both obey, And here give up ourselves in the full bent To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded.