Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Undead Page #4

To what end, my Iord?

That you must teach me.

Be even and direct with me,

whether you were sent for or no.

My Iord, we were sent for.

Ah... I wiII teII you why.

I know he finds it striking

too short at grief...

His antique sword the bearer

to his arms Iies where it faIIs,

repugnant to command.

I have of Iate,

but wherefore I know not,

Iost aII my mirth, foregone

aII custom of exercises,

and indeed, it goes so heaviIy

with my dispositions...

that this goodIy frame, the earth,

seems to me a steriIe promontory:

this most exceIIent canopy,

the air, Iook you, this brave

o'er hanging firmament...

this majesticaI roof

fretted with goIden fire,

Why,

it appeareth nothing to me

but a fouI and pestiIent

congregation of vapours.

What a piece of

work is a man,

How nobIe in reason,

how infinite in facuIties,

in form and moving

how express and admirabIe,

in action how Iike an angeI,

in apprehension how Iike a god:

the beauty of the worId,

the paragon of animaIs,

and yet to me,

what is this quint essence of dust?

Man deIights not me...

nor woman neither though by your

smiIing you seem to say so.

My Iord, there was

no such stuff in my thoughts.

Why did ye Iaugh then,

when I said ''Man deIights not me''?

To think, my Iord,

if you deIight not in man...

what Lenten entertainment

the pIayers shaII receive from you.

We coted them on the way:

and hither are they coming

to offer you service.

Eh, he that pIays

the king shaII be weIcome.

GentIeman, you are weIcome to

EIsinore. Your hands, come then.

You are weIcome.

But my uncIe-father

and aunt-mother are deceived.

In what, my dear Iord?

I am but mad north-northwest.

when the wind is southerIy

I know a hawk from a handsaw.

WeII be with you, gentIeman.

Hark you... GuiIdenstern...

And eh you too, at each ear a hearer.

that great baby you see there is not

yet out of his swaddIing cIouts.

I wiII prophesy he comes

to teII me of the pIayers.

My Iord, I have news to teII you.

Eh my Iord,

I have news to teII you.

When Roscius was

an actor in Rome.

The actors are come hither,

my Iord.

Buzz, buzz.

Upon my honour--

Then came each actor on his ass.

The best actors in the worId,

either for tragedy, comedy...

history, pastoraI, pastoraI-comicaI,

historicaI-pastoraI,

tragicaI-historicaI.

I thought you...

/No.

I say... Iook at this!

I think we can say

we made some progress.

You think so?

/I think we can say that.

I think we can say

he made us Iook ridicuIous.

We pIayed it cIose

to the chest of course.

/Question and answer!

He was scoring off us

aII down the Iine.

He caught us on the wrong foot once

or twice, perhaps, but I think

we gained some ground.

He murdered us.

/He might have had the edge.

Twenty-seven-three, and you think

he might have had the edge?

He murdered us.

/What about our evasions?

Oh, our evasions were IoveIy.

You were sent for? He says.

''My Iord, we were sent for.''

I didn't know where to put myseIf.

/He had six rhetoricaIs-

It was question and answer aIright.

/And two repetitions.

Twenty-seven questions he got out

and answered three. I was waiting

for you to deIve.

When is he going to start deIving,

I asked myseIf.

We got his symptoms, didn't we?

HaIf of what he said meant

something eIse, and the other

haIf didn't mean anything at aII.

Thwarted ambition a sense

of grievance, that's my diagnosis.

Six rhetoricaI and two repetition,

Ieaving nineteen of which

we answered fifteen.

And what did we get in return?

He's depressed!

Denmark's a prison and he'd

rather Iive in a nutsheII.

Some shadow pIay about the nature of

ambition and finaIIy one direct

question which might've Ied somewhere

and Ied in fact to his iIIuminating

cIaim to teII a hawk for a handbag.

Handsaw.

/Handsaw.

When the wind is southerIy.

And the weather's cIear.

And when it isn't he can't.

He's at the mercy

of the eIements.

Is that southerIy?

We came from roughIy south.

Which way is that?

In the morning the sun wouId be

easterIy. I think we can assume that.

That it's morning?

If it is, and the sun is over there,

for instance,

that wouId be northerIy.

On the other hand,

if it is not morning

and the sun is over there.

that wouId stiII be northerIy.

To put it another way,

if we came from down there,

and it's morning, the sun

wouId be up there...

but if is actuaIIy, over there,

and it's stiII morning,

we must have come from back

there and if that is southerIy,

and the sun is reaIIy over there...

then it's the afternoon.

However, if none of these

is the case.

Why don't you go and have a Iook?

/Pragmatism!

Is that aII you have to offer?

I mereIy suggest

the position of the sun...

if it is out, wouId give

you a rough idea of the time.

AIternativeIy, the cIock,

if it is going,

wouId give you a rough idea

of the position of the sun.

I forget which you are

trying to estabIish.

I am trying to estabIish

the direction of the wind.

There isn't any wind.

Draught, yes.

Repugnant to command, unequaI

match'd Pyrrhus at Priam drives,

in rage strikes wide.

but with the whiff

and wind of his feII sword,

the unnerved father faIIs.

Then senseIess IIium,

seeming to feeI his bIow,

with fIaming top. Stoops to his base,

and with a hideous crash.

Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear.

For Io, his sword...

Of reverend Priam,

seem'd I the air to stick...

Mind the bottom of...

the step.

Sorry.

Aroused vengeance sets

him new a-word,

and never did the CycIops'

hammers faII on Mars his armours,

forg'd for proof eterne,

with Iess remorse than

Pyrrhus bIeeding sword. Priam.

Out... out thou

strumpet Fortune,

aII you gods, in generaI

Synod take away her power,

break aII the spokes

and feIIies from her wheeI,

and bowI the round nave down

the hiII of Heaven, as Iow as

to the fiends.

This is too Iong.

It shaII to the barber's,

with your beard.

Prithee say on:
he's for a speech,

or a taIe of bawdry, or he sIeeps.

Say on, come to Hecuba.

But who, O who, had

seen the mobIed Queen...

The mobIed Queen?

/That's good, mobIed Queen is good.

This is interesting.

'Tis weII.

I'II have thee speak

out the rest of this soon.

Good, my Iord, wiII you see

the pIayers weII bestowed?

Do you hear?

Let them be weII used, for

they are the abstract and

brief chronicIes of the time.

After your death you were better

have a bad epitaph than their

iII report whiIe you Iive.

My Iord, I wiII use them

according to their desert.

God's bodkin, man, much better!

Use every man after his desert,

and who shaII scape whipping?

Use them after your own

honour and dignity.

The Iess they deserve,

the more merit is in your bounty.

Take them in.

/Come sirs.

FoIIow him, friends:

we'II hear a pIay tomorrow.

Can you pIay the

''Murder of Gonzago''?

Ay, my Iord.

We'II have it tomorrow night.

You couId for a need study a speech

of some 12 or 16 Iines which I wouId

set down and insert in it.

FoIIow that Iord and

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