Hamlet, the True Story.

Prologue:

I gazed longingly out the castle window upon the graceful silhouette of Queen Gertrude. It was right at that very moment I was certain the King was no good for her. The way he barred her from ‘the winds of heaven’ and deprived her of the delight of breathing fresh cool air, brought a gut wrenching feeling to my stomach. He didn’t deserve her, such an intriguingly beautiful and intelligent woman. “If only she were mine, I would treat her better than she deserves; she would be so much happier,” I thought to myself as I looked upon her graceful yet dreary, lifeless face. “He looks at her as though she was put on this earth simply to please him. I can’t believe I’m related to him by blood; surely I’m nothing like him, my brother.” My thoughts screamed through the depths of my mind as I gazed out at them through the castle window, repulsed by the way my brother treated his wife. Thinking about it, I was disgusted by the way he treated women all together. “Yet we call this man King!?  He is not worthy of such a title!” I spat in disgust, thinking how he had the power to change the way women were treated, yet he did nothing about it. “Oh, almighty Old Hamlet, King of Denmark” I scoffed, “If I were King, things would be run very differently around here.” And so my contemplation began.

Story:

It was a dark and stormy night and Old Hamlet was sleeping out in the stables. I knew that it would be the perfect time to strike. With no one around, it would be easy. The hay crunched under my feet as I crept into the stable, yet Old Hamlet did not stir.

“This must be done for the benefit of Denmark” I whispered to myself; “for the women!” As the rain poured down on the tin roof of the stable, I poured a cup of poison in Old Hamlet’s ear, then ventured back to the warmth of the castle.

With the new morning, a dark cloak of sadness fell across the Kingdom’s shoulders. News had spread fast. Everyone was grieving over the death of the King, Old Hamlet. In the throne room, I sat faking misery waiting for the inevitable to occur. I would be crowned King of Denmark. Like everyone else who surrounded me, Gertrude mourned for the death of the King; but she was not in mourning for the loss of her husband. In that sense, she looked relieved, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders that she no longer had to cater to a man. Later that morning, as I was being crowned the new King of Denmark, I noticed the sun rise above the clouds.

“Women should be treated equally to men,” I addressed the people of my estate. “Under the new laws, I declare that men and women unite together as human beings, and live in a state of equality,” I ordered the people. A rainbow shone overhead, reflecting the radiant faces of all the women who stood before me. Some men were outraged; others were puzzled, but most were pleased. I knew I had done well for Denmark by becoming King.

Shortly after, Gertrude admitted her love for me, which was once forbidden.

“I love you Claudius,” she breathed softly in my ear whilst making love to me intensely. “I’ve always loved you, and only ever had eyes for you. All those years I was stuck with that brute of a man, who didn’t let me live. I felt like a prisoner, his slave. I thought there was no escape. But now I’m right here with you, and it was all worthwhile,” Gertrude continued to croon in my ear. I felt both pity and sorrow for Gertrude, that I had let it get this far before I took matters into my own hands. I just wanted to explain to her that I needed to be certain she loved me before I took action. If she truly loved Old Hamlet, I didn’t want to take that love away from her; I only ever wanted the best for her. I wanted to apologise for leaving her with him, but I knew that would expose me as the murderer. I could not let this information get out and I was prepared to do anything it took to keep it hidden. Gertrude was happier than ever before with me now, I could not allow this exquisite love to be destroyed.  Hearing Gertrude’s resentment towards her previous husband, I understood that It wasn’t right that once in a marriage, both man and woman were trapped within that marriage for eternity; the only way out being the death of your partner. I knew something had to be done.