Ophelia (12 page)

"I vow to love you most truly and forever," he whispered in my ear.

"And I you. Hamlet, I am yours."

We then confirmed our vows with the deed of love itself.

Chapter 14

Within days of the wedding, the guests who had traveled to Elsinore departed and quiet returned, but little peace. My own thoughts were at war within me as I pondered what Hamlet and I had done. I had given him my most valuable gift, one that could never be taken back.

"It is nothing, for 'tis common enough that a girl gives her maidenhead to a man,"
said a worldly voice in my head. It resembled Gertrude commenting upon a tale of love.

"This is no common delight, but a true and lasting love,"
countered a voice from a book of courtly ideals.

"You are ruined and undone by this sin!"
a puritan's voice rebuked. The face of Elnora came to my mind's eye, lamenting the waste of all her teaching.

"No, you are made new by love. A maid no more, but born a woman,"
said a wiser, more generous voice.

"What's done is done and cannot be undone,"
came a stern voice like my father's.

"Ah, but what am I to do next?" I wondered aloud.

"Pray that this secret does not come to light,"
counseled the worldly voice, and ruefully I agreed.

As I debated with myself, a summons came from my father. I wondered what it could mean, for he had ignored me for many months. When I reached his chambers, he was bustling to and fro securing boxes and bundles for my brother's return to France. From the way he tugged at his beard and hemmed in his throat, I knew he had other matters on his mind. I should have knelt before him, but I felt disinclined to show this respect. After all, he had neglected his duty to me. So I stood before the table, waiting for him to speak.

Across from me, my father leaned on the table and asked in a low voice, "What have you observed lately of the queen and Claudius?"

"Nothing, my lord." It was the truth.

"Don't act so innocent, child! Have I not taught you to look closely about you?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"Yes, Father, I keep my eyes guarded," I said, pretending humility. But he seized my chin and lifted it, forcing me to look in his eyes.

"Many think it strange that Claudius has wed his brother's widow with such haste. Tell me what is said in secret among you ladies," he demanded.

Now I was suspicious of my father. What knowledge did he seek and on whose behalf? In fact I knew nothing, for we ladies spoke with caution where our mistress was concerned. I judged it safest to defend Gertrude.

"Why may she not choose her husband? She is accustomed to being the wife of a king and would not be content with less," I said, echoing what I had heard Elnora say before.

Mindful of deeper matters, my father did not mark the defiant tone of my words.

"Some say she was false to King Hamlet," he whispered, leaning closer.

The idea struck me with honor.

"I have seen nothing!" I said. Then I countered boldly, "Why? What do you know?"

My father started back in surprise and pursed his lips. Instead of speaking again, he shook his finger at me, turned, and swept out of the room just as my brother entered it. Laertes fell against a pile of boxes to avoid colliding with him.

I stifled a laugh. But I was glad to see my brother and hoped he would speak kindly to me. He looked fine in a russet traveling cloak thrown over his embroidered doublet. His silk hose set off his strong legs. With his stride he gave the air of a man even more intense and combative than he had been as a boy.

I came out from behind the table and reached out in a tentative way, inviting an embrace. Laertes grasped my hands briefly, holding me away from him.

"Dear sister, before I take my leave I have advice you must heed." His tone spoke of business. I drew back, hurt.

"It regards Prince Hamlet. I have learned that you often meet him in secret, wearing a rustic disguise. I doubt your silly games are merely innocent," he said.

Speechless, I looked down to hide the sudden flush that came over my face. How had Laertes discovered our love?

"Hamlet's blood is hot, and you are fair. Perhaps he says he loves you now, but do not believe him. He cannot choose you, for he is subject to his birth. Nor is your will your own."

I did not wish to hear this irksome lecture.

"Why may I not choose my love? Who will prevent me?" I asked, thrusting my chin out, as I used to do when we argued as children.

"You know that is a foolish question. Our father will decide whom you will marry and when. Or I will, when he grows infirm."

I did not dare to argue with Laertes further, lest he trap me into admitting my love for Hamlet. But I would not grant his point.

"You cannot control me," I said, crossing my arms and determining to stay silent.

Then my brother changed his manner and began to plead with me.

"Dear Ophelia, my reputation is also at stake in this matter. Consider the loss to your honor—and to our family's name—if you believe Hamlet's songs of love and open your chaste treasure to him."

Were spirits and spies the witnesses while Hamlet and I made love on the battlement? No, for if we had been seen, Laertes would know his warning came too late. With my finger I prodded his chest.

"You, dear brother, take this advice of me. Tend to your own honor, and I will tend to mine. Do not show me the steep and thorny way to virtue, while you take the primrose path of ease."

He laughed in derision. I wanted to throw myself at him and scratch his face. Why should men be allowed freedoms that were deemed sinful for women to take?

At that moment, our father stumbled into the room, waving his arms to hasten Laertes' departure. He flung out all his favored maxims as if strewing flowers after my brother.

"This above all, be true to yourself, and then you cannot be false to any man," he cried to Laertes' departing back.

What empty words these were coming from my father, a man so used to fitting his form to the mold of power that he had no true shape of his own! I noticed for the first time how his back was becoming bent with age and the hair on his head was wispy. I saw him dab at his eyes and sigh like a fond father as Laertes finally disappeared. Had he ever shed any tears for me? Had he loved my mother and wept when she died? Would he have been different had she lived? I longed to ask him these questions, but I had not the courage.

"Ophelia, what did Laertes say to you?"

"Something touching on the Lord Hamlet," I said lightly. "It was nothing important."

"I hear that you have been most free and bounteous, giving your private time to him. What is between you?" His brows were pulled together in a single line, his eyes intent upon my face.

Did Laertes and my father conspire against me? What my brother knew, my father must also know. I would speak the truth and not provoke him further.

"Prince Hamlet has bestowed on me some signs of love," I said, choosing my words with care. I dared to hope that because he had loved my mother, perhaps he could be made to understand my love.

"What signs? Tell me now," he said, as if he were coaxing candy from my fist.

"Letters, tokens, and true promises," I said, bringing my hands to my heart in the hope that my evident joy would move him.

"And you believe his tenders of affection?" he said with scorn. In his presence I felt small and insecure. Doubts began to prick me that Hamlet was sincere.

"I do not know, my lord, what I should believe," I said, my voice trembling from the effort to control it. I felt the familiar vexation at my father rise within me.

"Then listen to me. Set your price much higher. In short, tender yourself more dearly, or you'll tender me a fool!" He held his forearms in imitation of a mother cradling a baby.

I gasped, shocked by my father's rude mockery of my virtue.

"He has pledged his love to me in most honorable fashion," I said, drawing my dignity about me like a torn cloak. Tears began to sting my eyes.

"Do not believe his vows! They are traps to catch a woodcock!" he fairly shouted at me.

My effort at mildness failed utterly. I was unable to contain my anger and hurt, which spilled out uncontrollably.

"I trust Hamlet!" I cried. "Why do you not trust
me?
I am not a child, a green girl as you seem to think. Look at me!" I thrust myself upon him, tapping my breast violently, then turning my palms upward, demanding his attention. "I am almost of the age my mother was when she bore me. Do you see me? Do you remember her?" I was careless of my words, wanting to wound him, if he had any tender places left.

He took my wrists and stilled them. His grip was not hard, but his icy look hid from me any tender feelings he might have harbored.

"I would not have you give words or time to Lord Hamlet henceforward," he said in a hard, cold voice that forbade me to defy him again.

I looked down to hide my sadness and my fury. I decided that from this moment on, I would no more be my father's daughter. Yet I would let him think that he still ruled me.

"I will know if you defy me, girl," he warned.

"I shall obey, my lord."

The lie I gave my father was in truth the vow I gave Hamlet. I had given everything to Hamlet. He, not my father, was now my lord.

Chapter 15

Through absence and neglect, the ties that bound me to my father and to Laertes had frayed since I had entered Gertrude's service. Now they had broken altogether, like a rotted rope. Unmoored, a boat upon the open waters, I would steer my own way through the waves. And I would see Hamlet again as often as I pleased.

These were my thoughts as I returned to my room after the confrontation with my father. There I found a message from Hamlet urging me to meet him that day. The hour was almost upon me, so in haste I donned my shepherdess costume. I wondered how Laertes had learned of my disguise and rued the change in my brother, who cared for me less than for his own reputation. I felt the injustice of my father's treatment, who fondly indulged Laertes while cruelly denying me. My lips trembled but I repressed my tears. Why should I care that my father's love was lost, when I had Hamlet's love? I rushed to meet him as if any delay would risk losing him.

Leaving the castle grounds by a roundabout way, I looked back, expecting to see a spy set upon me by my father. But no one followed me. Despite the midday heat, I wore a cloak over my rustic dress as if it were the burden of all my thoughts. I longed yet feared to see Hamlet, remembering our loving words and our embracing on the battlement. Had that night changed everything between us? Would he greet me now as sweetly? Or did he summon me in order to end our love? Heaven forbid it! Yet here I come, like a servant at his beck and call! Perhaps I should speak first and cancel our vows, thereby saving some shreds of honor. So the diverse voices contended within me, and joining them were the scornful ones of Laertes and my father, until I began to believe that I was indeed a foolish girl who had squandered her virtue.

Filled with these doubts, I slowed my steps, reaching the shaded bower between the meadow and the wood. It was a deserted spot that Hamlet and I favored for our meetings. There I unbound my hair and let it fall free, as it pleased Hamlet. The cool air calmed my heated heart. Butterflies darted among the daisies and teasing birds sang from their hidden nests. I spotted Hamlet and Horatio reclining in the shade of a great bush, while their horses grazed on sweet grass nearby. At the sight of me, Horatio rose and took his leave. As he galloped away, Hamlet cried after him, "Make haste in your errand, for remember, I will be shriven today."

I noted his words, for they fed my tortured thoughts. Of what sin would Hamlet repent? Was it the sin of loving me?

"My love, Ophelia, what ails you this fine day?" asked Hamlet, perceiving my troubled mood. I avoided his kiss while he took the cloak from my shoulders and spread it on the grass for me.

I sat down, holding myself stiff and straight. I regarded the smiling Hamlet, who sprawled on the ground with ease. His was not the manner of a lover intending to spurn me. But I chose my words with care from those that would pour from my mouth.