Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead Page #3

Clever.

Natural?

Instinctive!

Now I'll try you!

Not yet! Catch me unawares!

Guilden...

Me unawares.

Ready?

Never mind.

... for I will use no art,

mad let us grant him then

and now remains.

That we find out the cause

of this effect, or rather say,

the cause of this defect.

For this effect defective,

comes by cause:
Thus it remains,

and the remainder thus.

Perpend. I have a daughter:

Have, while she mine.

Who in her duty and obedience,

mark. Hath given me this:

now gather, and surmise.

"To the Celestial,

and my souI's idol,

the most beautified Ophelia"

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase,

beautified is a vile phrase:

but eh, you shall hear thus

"In her excellent white bosom..."

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Good Madam stay awhile,

I will be faithful.

"Doubt thou, the stars are fire."

"Doubt that the sun doth move,

but never doubt I love."

... this hot love on the wing,

as I perceived it,

I must tell you that.

Before my daughter told me,

what might you.

Or my dear Majesty

your Queen here, think,

If I had play'd the desk

or table-book. Or given

my heart a winking,

dump, or look'd upon this love,

with idle sight, what might you think?

No, I went round to work,

and my mistress thus I did bespeak,

Lord Hamlet is a Prince

out of thy star,

this must not be...

How does my good lord Hamlet?

Well, God have mercy.

Do you know me, my lord?

Excellent.

Excellent well.

You are a fishmonger.

Not I, my lord.

Then I would you were

so honest a man.

Honest my lord?

What do you read, my lord?

Words, words, words.

What is the matter, my lord?

Between who?

I mean the matter that

your read, my lord.

Statement.

But the satirical role it says here

that old man have grey beards...

Who was that?

Didn't you know him?

He didn't know me.

He didn't see you.

I didn't see him.

We shall see.

I hardly knew him, he's changed.

You could see that?

Transformed.

How do you know?

Inside and out.

I see.

He's not himself.

He's changed.

I could see that.

Glean what afflicts him!

Me?

Him.

How?

Question and answer.

He's afflicted.

You question, I answer.

He's not himself, you know.

I'm him, you see.

Who am I?

You're yourself.

And he's you?

Not a bit of it.

Are you afflicted?

That's the idea. Are you ready?

Let's go back a bit.

I'm afflicted.

I see.

Glean what afflicts me.

Right.

Question and answer.

How should I begin?

Address me.

My dear Guildenstern!

You've forgotten, haven't you?

My dear Rosencrantz!

I don't think you quite understand.

What we are attempting

is a hypothesis...

in which I answer for him

while you ask me question.

Ready?

You know what to do?

What?

Are you stupid?

Parden?

Are you deaf?

Did you speak?

Not now...

Statement!

Not now!

What sign?

What?

Well... uh, uh...

Would you like a bite?

No.

Thank you.

Oh, you mean you pretend to be him.

And I ask you questions!

Very good.

You had me confused.

I could see I had.

How should I begin?

Address me.

My honoured lord!

My dear Rosencrantz!

Am I pretending to be you, then?

Certainly not.

Well if you like.

Shall we continue.

My honoured lord!

My dear fellow!

How are you?

Afflicted!

Really? In what way?

Tranformed.

Inside or out?

Both.

I see.

Not much new there.

Look go into details...

Delve.

Probe the background...

establish the situation.

So your uncle's

the king of Denmark?

That's right.

And my father before him.

His father before him.

No, my father before him.

But surely...

You may well ask.

Let me get it straight.

Your father was king. You were

his only son. Your father dies.

You are of age.

Your uncle becomes king.

Yes.

Unusual.

Undid me.

Undeniable.

He slipped in.

Which reminds me.

Well, it would.

I don't want to be personal.

It's common knowledge.

Your mother's marriage.

He slipped in.

His body was still warm.

So was hers.

Extraordinary.

Indecent.

It makes you think.

Don't think I haven't.

And with her husband's brother.

They were close.

She went to him.

Too close.

For comfort.

It looks bad.

It adds up.

Incest to adultery.

Would you go so far.

Never!

To sum up!

Your father, whom you love, dies,

you are his heir, you come back...

to find that hardly was the corpse

cold before his young brother...

poped onto his throne

and into his sheets,

thereby offending both

legal and natural practice.

Now... why exactly are you behaving

in this extraordinary manner?

I can't imagine!

And yet we were sent for.

And we did come.

Rosencrantz...

What?

Guildenstern.

What?

Don't you discriminate at all?

What?

Nothing!

Look at this!

Watch closely!

Interesting.

Will you walk out

of the air, my lord?

Into my grave?

Indeed that is out of the air.

My honourable lord.

I would, most humbly,

take my leave of you.

You cannot, sir, take

from me anything that I will

more willingly part with all.

Except my life.

Except my life.

Except my life.

Fare you well, my lord.

There tedious old fools.

You go to seek the lord Hamlet?

There he is.

What's he doing?

Talking... to himself.

My honoured lord!

My most dear lord!

My excellent good friends!

How dost thou, Guildenstern?

Ah, Rosencrantz!

Oh, good lads,

how do you both?

As the indifferent children

of the earth.

Happy in that we are not overhappy.

On Fortune's cap we are

not the very button.

Nor the soles of her shoes?

Neither, my lord.

Then you live about her waist,

or in the middIe of her favours?

Faith, her privates we.

In the secret parts of fortune?

O, most true!

She is a strumpet.

Well what news?

None, my lord, but that

the world's grown honest.

Then is doomsday near.

But your news is not true.

Let me question more in particular.

What have you, my good friends

deserved at the hands of fortune

that she spends you to prison hither?

Prison, my lord?

Denmark's a prison.

Then is the world one.

A goodly one,

in which there are many confines,

wards and dungeons,

Denmark begin one of the worst.

We think not so, my lord.

Why, then 'tis none to you,

for there is nothing either

good or bad

but thinking makes it so.

To me it is a prison.

Why then your ambition makes it one.

'Tis too narrow for your mind.

O, God, I could be bounded in

a nutshell and count myself a king

of infinite space...

were it not that I have bad dreams.

But in the beaten way of friendship,

what make you at Elsinore?

To visit you, my lord:

no other occasion.

Beggar that I am,

I am even poor in thanks

but I thank you.

Were you not sent for?

Is it your own inclining?

Is it a free visitation?

Well... come, come,

nay, speak.

What should we say, my lord?

Why anything but to the purpose.

You were sent for.

And there is a kind of confession

in your looks which your modesties

have not craft enough to colour.

I know the good King and Queen

have sent for you.

To what end, my lord?

That you must teach me.

Be even and direct with me,

whether you were sent for or no.

My lord, we were sent for.

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