Ophelia (8 page)

I lifted my chin to better see his face, and his lips met mine. It was a brief kiss, but his mouth, though mild, seemed to draw up all my strength and leave me weak. His arms about my waist held me up. A second kiss he offered me, and I took a third one from him. Still I wanted more, for the touch of his lips on mine was pure delight. But I would not seem greedy or immodest, so I turned aside my face. Then Hamlet kissed my ear, and his breath tickled me to the very base of my spine.

"I must be gone now," I whispered. "Though I would stay."

Himself reluctant, Hamlet loosened his hold and led me to where the maze opened onto the garden. Then he took something wrapped in paper from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. After granting him one final kiss, I dashed through the dewy grass back to the castle. I had completely forgotten the lavender I had picked for Gertrude.

Alone in my chamber, I fairly trembled with excitement. How could it be that I, who had never been kissed before, had kissed the Prince of Denmark himself, not once but many times? Did he really speak to me of love? It was beyond belief that I, humble Ophelia, should be wooed by Prince Hamlet. Surely I had imagined it. Then I remembered Hamlet's gift, which I had thrust into my pocket as I ran. I took it out, unwrapped it, and found a framed miniature suspended on a chain. The painting depicted the god Janus with two faces, one masked like a comic player, the other wearing a tragic look. I puzzled over its meaning. Did the masks signify the disguises Hamlet spoke of wearing? Did the gift promise a new beginning of love, as the month of January heralds the beginning of a new year?

Sleep eluded me as my brain turned over these questions. Finally I arose in the darkest hours of the night intending to mix a draught of barley water and poppy seeds to calm my whirling thoughts. To my surprise, Cristiana was still skulking about. She sidled past and I smelled lavender. She fingered a fresh bouquet at her waist.

"You have disappointed the queen by not returning with the herbs, and now she has me to thank for the fragrance in her chamber." By the light of the moon that slanted into the dark corridor, I saw her eyes narrow. "Lavender makes a soft bed for love to he on, does it not?"

I snatched at her skirt and saw that the hem was soiled and damp.

"Whose spy are you?" I whispered, scorn barely masking my fear. Had she followed me into the garden like a sly serpent? Did she only guess that I had met someone there, or had she seen us, despite the dark?

Chapter 9

Hamlet and I conducted our furtive courtship as if we guarded some secret business of the state. In the company of others, we exchanged only formal courtesies, arranging private meetings with our looks and with letters passed between us. We preferred to meet in the open air, for the dark recesses of Elsinore could hide spies as well as lovers. The willow tree overhanging the brook shielded us from all eyes, and the maze kept our secrets. No one but Horatio knew of our meetings. He was both our messenger and our guard. His watchfulness saved us from discovery many times.

One day, however, even Horatio's vigilance was not enough to shield us. Hamlet and I were walking in the king's orchard, where he often strolled with his advisers. We believed its paths to be deserted, for the king was absent on a journey. As we were passing by a gnarled, knotty tree, Hamlet plucked an apple and showed me the fruit streaked with red and gold like a sunset.

"How is it that a misshapen tree can yield such a perfect fruit? This is seldom seen in human nature," he mused. Then he handed me the apple.

"Wait," I said, holding up my hand in refusal. I was learning to tease Hamlet and enjoying it. "Should not I offer the fruit to you, and you reject it? Then I would tell you about the fabled serpent who said it would make us wise, and you, longing to be wise, would eagerly bite it."

"No, for unlike our father, Adam, I would challenge you and say, 'Show me the serpent,' and you would not be able to produce him." Hamlet spread his arms wide. "See, no serpent, no Satan creeps in this Eden."

At that moment we heard Horatio's whistle, warning us that we were no longer alone. I knew that Cristiana would not be out of doors, for she had taken to her bed with a sore throat. But someone on a horse was approaching, singing loudly. There was no place to conceal ourselves, and so I pulled the hood of my cloak until it shadowed my face and turned away.

"It is Claudius, my uncle!" Hamlet hissed. "Pretend that you gather apples in your cloak. I will put him off." I bowed to my work and did not see, but only heard, their encounter.

"What ho, Hamlet! Come with me for some sport. Your father will not miss a doe or two."

"No, Uncle."

"What's this? Ah, you are already engaged. Let me see the wench. Oh, she hides herself, does she? I'll find out who she is."

"Uncle, you are drunk. Be gone."

"Some advice for you, boy. Give her a pinch and a paddling, too. The lusty ones love it, I can vouch for that. Heh, heh!"

Claudius's laugh sounded both sly and hearty. Burning with undeserved shame, I wanted to strike at him with my words. In my agitation, the hood slipped from my head just as Claudius spurred his horse and seized the mane to keep his slack body from falling off. I looked at Hamlet, whose body was tense with anger.

"He insults me, calls me 'boy.' The drunken sot, unworthy to be my father's brother!" he said.

"And you said there was no serpent in this garden?" I said bitterly. The orchard's pleasures now seemed blighted by the intrusion of Claudius.

Horatio, full of remorse, then joined us.

"I am sorry I could not stop Claudius, for he came from the direction of the deer park."

"Where he poaches my father's game in his absence, the thief," interjected Hamlet. "But he is drunk as usual and most likely will not remember seeing us."

Hamlet forgave his friend, and henceforth we vowed to be more careful. It was my idea that we disguise ourselves as a rustic and a shepherdess, for the lovers in Gertrude's romances often did so. So I wore a linen smock and petticoat and, over them, a sleeveless bodice that laced below my breasts. It was plain and comfortable, unlike my stiff and fashionable courtly dress, and it gave me an ease of movement that I relished. Hamlet found some loose breeches and a homespun tunic and covered his curls with a leather cap. I liked him all the better for his plain attire and the easy manner he put on with it. When we wore our simple disguises, few people gave us a second look. Holding hands, we strolled openly through the streets of the town. Then like country folk without any cares, we lay in the meadow, surrounded by tall grass, and wove garlands of white daisies and purple columbines to crown each other.

"Let us make up a song together," I said one day. "For I have read that shepherds like to engage in singing contests."

"Ophelia, you read much nonsense. What dung-covered lad can tell his ABCs, let alone rhyme a sonnet and count all its feet?" Hamlet said. "He whistles for his sheep, or rings a bell, or shouts 'hey.' I have heard none of them sing."

"Then we will be the first, and set the pattern for all herders of sheep in these hills."

So Hamlet thought for a moment, then sang:

"Where the bee lights, there dip I

my tongue;

I'll taste the flowers until I die

so young!"

Though his song was lusty, he kissed me very courteously. In turn, I sang:

"Here by the greenwood tree, fa la,
Come, love, and lie with me, fa la."

Taking my song as an invitation, Hamlet put his head in my lap, and I gently pushed him away.

"You are too eager, my lord," I said, and he withdrew at once.

"I did not mean to offend you, Ophelia," he said, taking my hand instead.

I got up to pick fresh flowers to replace wilted ones. Passing through the meadow, I came upon a small brown bird that had fallen from its nest on a branch overhead. I picked it up and held it in my palm. Its heart, visible beneath skin more fine than the thinnest sheet of vellum, was no longer beating. When Hamlet came upon me, I was weeping, and this embarrassed me more than his head on my lap.

"I am sorry. I am not practiced in love. When will you forgive me?" he pleaded.

"It is not that," I said, touched by his humility. "You have not offended me." I showed him the bird. "It is this that makes me weep, though I do not know why."

"Perhaps because this creature had a spirit, but now it is flown?" Hamlet offered. His brow was furrowed, as if my sadness confused and worried him.

"Where is its mother?" I whispered. "Why could she not save it?" I looked around to see dozens of birds flitting and singing, careless of the dead one in my hand.

"Nowhere. Nature is beautiful, but she can be cruel. Just like a woman," Hamlet mused. "Though not you, of course. Cruel, I mean. That is, you are beautiful, but not cruel."

Now Hamlet blushed and stammered, and I could not help but smile.

"Does it not say in the Bible that there is providence even in the fall of a sparrow?" I asked.

"Yes, and it says that every hair on our heads is numbered, for we are more precious than any sparrow. Therefore do not fret," said Hamlet, and with a kiss, I let myself be comforted.

Another day, as the sun fled across the sky, we roamed the woods between Elsinore and the village as Horatio followed us in silence. At dusk, we came upon a deserted cottage of crumbling stones, which looked like a hermit's dwelling. In the hearth we kindled a small fire against the chill. Horatio declined to join us as we ate our bread and cheese.

"Why is Horatio so unsmiling today?" I asked.

"He is not," denied Hamlet. "Like himself, he is ever the same. Give it no further thought." He shared his flask of ale with me, then drank of it himself. But I persisted, uneasy.

"Does he disapprove of our courtship?"

Hamlet spewed liquid from his mouth, and bitter words with it.

"The whole world would disapprove of our courtship, Ophelia!" he exclaimed, waving the flask in a broad arc. "Horatio fears I do but trifle with you. He is wrong, mind you. And your father! Your family's honor would demand that your brother challenge me to a duel."

"They do not know that we meet, nor can they prevent it," I said, with more certainty than I felt. For months my father had been away on the king's business, and Laertes was studying in France. I did not want to think about the consequences of being discovered by them.

"You know, I am the heir of Denmark—" began Hamlet, as if I had forgotten.

"Yes, and I am no one," I whispered.

"No, you are my love. But my father the king has alliances to secure by marrying me to a princess of France or Germany. He will prevent us." Hamlet's tone was matter-of-fact. He fell silent and fed sticks to the small fire.

I stood up awkwardly and stumbled to the cottage door. Beyond its battered frame the black-barked trees grew straight to the heavens, disdaining the forest floor, where tangled heather and brush hid the path leading from this lonely spot.

How foolish I had been to think I was as free as any peasant girl and as worthy as any king's daughter! I gazed out into the forest.

"This courtship is ill-fated. No good can come of it for you or me," I said bitterly.

I heard Hamlet sigh. Or was he blowing air on the stuttering fire? I felt him come up behind me and touch my shoulder.

"When we come to these woods in our humble clothes, I am no prince, but a man who may have my will," he said, his words full and rounded with yearning. "Here I am simply 'Jack,' and I choose you as my 'Jill'"

He turned me around to face him and kissed me warmly.

The touch of his lips somewhat banished my fears. I realized that Elsinore was for Hamlet, as it was for me, a gilded cage.

"In these woods and cottages there are no envious eyes, no carping tongues, no gossip or lies," I said. "So let us remain in this place always and speak only simple truth to each other." I rested my cheek against the rough homespun of his jacket, knowing that my wish was a vain one.

As soon as I returned to Elsinore, I felt constrained to lie, to deceive the queen herself.

"What ails thee, Ophelia? You are wan and distracted today."

"I studied late last night," I said. "And then I did not sleep soundly." In truth, I was tired, for I had been stealing many hours from my rest to spend with Hamlet. My absences were beginning to displease Gertrude and she grew testy with me.

"I do not like it when I call and you cannot be found."

"I was in the garden getting herbs for Elnora," I lied again.

Soon Gertrude suspected that I had a lover. Summoning me, she tried to catch me off my guard.

"Fetch me some lavender water, Ophelia. And tell me, what is his name?"

"I do not know what you mean, my lady."

"It is as plain as the daylight that you are in love." She held up a trinket, dangling it before me. "Wouldn't you like to wear this beaded comb?"