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By john de herrera (about the author)
Become a Fan -- Page 5 of 6 page(s)
LAERTES
What?
(Enter Ophelia.)
OPHELIA
(singing)
"They bore him barefaced on the bier; Hey non nonny, nonny,
hey nonny; And in his grave rain'd many a tear"
(Beat.)
OPHELIA (CONT'D)
(to Laertes)
Fare you well, my dove!
LAERTES
(moving to her)
Rose of May! Dear maid, kind sister Ophelia! Heavens!
OPHELIA
You must sing "a-down a-down," and you call him a-down-a. O,
how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole
his master's daughter.
LAERTES
Oh heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt, burn out
the sense and virtue of mine eye! By heaven sweet Ophelia,
your madness shall be balanced by my revenge.
OPHELIA
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love,
remember: and there is pansies. That's for thoughts.
LAERTES
(to Claudius and Gertrude)
Is it possible? A young maid's wits are as mortal as an old
man's life?
OPHELIA
There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you;
and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace a'
Sundays. You may wear your rue with a difference. There's a
daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all
when my father died. They say he made a good end. (Sings.)
"For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy."
LAERTES
You make hell itself beautiful sweet sister, and this turn of
events shall be avenged.
OPHELIA
(singing)
"And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No,
no, he is dead: Go to thy death-bed: He never will come
again. "His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his
poll: He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha'
mercy on his soul!" And of all Christian souls, I pray God.
God buy you.
(Ophelia exits.)
LAERTES
(looking upwards)
Do you see this oh God!?
CLAUDIUS
Laertes, let us grieve with you--we grieve too!
Become a Fan -- Page 5 of 6 page(s)
What?
(Enter Ophelia.)
OPHELIA
(singing)
"They bore him barefaced on the bier; Hey non nonny, nonny,
hey nonny; And in his grave rain'd many a tear"
(Beat.)
OPHELIA (CONT'D)
(to Laertes)
Fare you well, my dove!
LAERTES
(moving to her)
Rose of May! Dear maid, kind sister Ophelia! Heavens!
OPHELIA
You must sing "a-down a-down," and you call him a-down-a. O,
how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole
his master's daughter.
LAERTES
Oh heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt, burn out
the sense and virtue of mine eye! By heaven sweet Ophelia,
your madness shall be balanced by my revenge.
OPHELIA
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love,
remember: and there is pansies. That's for thoughts.
LAERTES
(to Claudius and Gertrude)
Is it possible? A young maid's wits are as mortal as an old
man's life?
OPHELIA
There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you;
and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace a'
Sundays. You may wear your rue with a difference. There's a
daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all
when my father died. They say he made a good end. (Sings.)
"For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy."
LAERTES
You make hell itself beautiful sweet sister, and this turn of
events shall be avenged.
OPHELIA
(singing)
"And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No,
no, he is dead: Go to thy death-bed: He never will come
again. "His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his
poll: He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha'
mercy on his soul!" And of all Christian souls, I pray God.
God buy you.
(Ophelia exits.)
LAERTES
(looking upwards)
Do you see this oh God!?
CLAUDIUS
Laertes, let us grieve with you--we grieve too!
I'm a writer/artist/activist from California, with a degree in Creative Studies from the University of California at Santa Barbara. I've been an advocating for the convention clause of Article V since 2001.
The views expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of the author
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