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THE LOW-DOWN
ON HAMLET
by
Bernard Miles
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This
'Amalet is quite a serious play.
It all takes place in Denmark where young 'Amalet is the Prince
of Wales. His dad’s ghost appears to him on the castle battlements
and ’Amalet says: “Blimey Dad, you didn’t ’arf give me a turn.”
Then he says: “You’re lookin’ a bit peeky, Dad,” but the old
ghost says: “Oh I feel all right in meself.” Well then ’e starts
beckonin’ ’Amalet to lead the way to somewhere a little bit
more secluded but ’Amalet says “No,” ’e says “After you Dad,”
and follows the ghost out.
Well in the next scene the old ghost doesn’t ’arf start tellin’
young ’Amalet the tale. ’E says: “I don’t know if you’re aware
of it, Son,” ’e says, ”but there’s been some dirty work goin’
on.” ’E says: “It’s been goin’ the rounds that I was stung to
death by a snake but in point of fact I was stung by your Uncle
Claud who now wears the crown.” ’E says: “It was like this son.
I was ’avin’ a little kip down in the orchard just after tea—we
know it was after tea because ’Amalet says ‘He took my father
grossly full of bread’; this is called internal evidence y’
see—when your Uncle Claud stole up be’ind me an’ emptied some
poison in me ear’ole.” Well the old ghost goes on: “To cut a
long story short I was took queer on the Sunday an’ I was dead
on the Monday.” An’ ’Amalet says: “Go on.” Then the ghost says:
“Well so long Son. I must be getting’ back now,” and back ’e
goes.
By the way I ought to ’ave mentioned that young ’Amalet’s mother,
the widow of the ghost, ’as gone and married the very man ’oo
caused ’er former husband all this inconvenience. And when young
’Amalet has had this interview with the ghost he comes over
all funny and ’e ’as to take some of his tablets in order to
get it down. Well in the middle of all this unpleasantness poor
’Amalet ’as no friend to turn to. Orphelia, ’is young lady,
’as turned out a big disappointment. Somehow or other she doesn’t
seem to be able to come up to the scratch. I don’t know ’ow
it is—I think it’s mostly on account of ’er upbringing. She’s
been made thoroughly cowed by her father Polonius. He’s the
Prime Minister and Head of the Secret Service Department. ’Amalet
’its ’im off a treat. “Oh ’im,” he says. “’E is all for a joke
or a tale of bawdy or ’e sleeps.” How well we know that type!
Anyway at the finish Chance steps in. Young ’Amalet sits moping
about you see. ’E doesn’t seem to ’ave any go in ’im somehow.
So the old king says to ’im: “Look, cousin ’Amalet.” Cousin
means nephew in Shakespeare you see. He says: “You’re properly
run down. What about a few days at the seaside?” But ’Amalet
says: “No, I tell you what I would like Uncle Claud,” he says:
“Could we ’ave the local repertory company in to do a show?”
And the old king says to Rose and Crantz and Guild and Stern,
only two people you see: “Why not?” he says. “It might take
’im out of ’imself a bit.”
Well now Chance steps in again because young ’Amalet arranges
with this theatrical company to enact a copy of a play in which
the story is so similar to the circumstances of his own dad’s
death it’s positively uncanny. “Now then,” ’e says to Horatio,
“while this play is progressing keep your eye on Uncle Claud.
If ’e blenches we shall know ’e’s the guil’y par’y.”
Well, believe it or not, in the middle of this play the king
goes and blenches. No, it’s right honestly. And ’Amalet immediately
shouts out “Wormwood! Wormwood!” meaning “I reckon you ought
to be locked up.” And then all the lights fuse and the old king
rushes out in a panic, shouting for an electrician.
Well, be that as it may, in the next scene young ’Amalet slays
Polonius. ’E stabs ’im through the arrahss, y’see, where ’e’s
secreted ’imself in order to satisfy ’is curiosity. And so Polonius
dies as Aristotle laid down some years before through ’is weak
spot. And young ’Amalet pushes ’is body into a little cupboard
on the back stairs and leaves it there.
Well a few days later the king says to ’Amalet: “’Ere,” ’e says,
“I ’aven’t seen Polonius lately.” And ’Amalet says: “I know,”
’e says. “I reckon ’e’ll be getting ’imself into bad odour.”
Anyway now Chance rears its head, because at the finish the
old king sees ’e’s up against a dangerous man and ’e sends for
Laertes, the brother of ’Amalet’s young lady, who, by the bye,
has just done away with ’erself by a watery death because she
can’t hold out any longer. An’ ’e says to Laertes: “Look old
man,” he says, “I want you to challenge ’Amelet to a duel with
a poisoned tip.” So Laertes dips the tip of ’is rapier into
unction—no it’s right—and old Claudius puts a poisoned pill
into a goblet of wine in case this poisoned tip misses fire—a
couple of right baskets I can tell you. Well anyway in the middle
of the fight the old queen thinks she’d like a quick one so
she goes and drinks some of the poisoned cup. The king shouts
out to her “Don’t touch it Gert,” ’e says. “It’s poison.” But
’e’s too late. Then Laertes give ’Amalet a poisoned tip but
’Amalet puts ’is foot on it and gets it away from ’im and gives
’im one back. Then ’e says ’e smells treason an’ ’e rushes up
to the king an’ ’e gives ’im a fourpenny one. Then ’e tips the
dregs of the wine right down ’is throat and then they all die—the
king and the queen and Laertes and young ’Amalet. And then just
to round it all off Fortinbras comes in. ’E’s just come back
from the pole y’see—or one or other o’ them. An’ ’e comes in
without so much as a ‘By-your-leave’ or a ‘May-I?’ an’ ’e sees
them all laid out there an’ ’e says: “’Ullo,” ’e says. “Have
they been quarrelling again? And down comes the curtain. |
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