‘Oh, my lord,’ said Ophelia. ‘I am yours.’

  Dan was feeling very overwhelmed by the situation. He had never kissed anyone so blindingly pretty before. Certainly no-one fictional. He felt a surge of exhilaration. But then his brain kicked in and he processed what Ophelia had just said.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Dan.

  ‘My heart is yours forevermore,’ said Ophelia.

  ‘Whoa,’ said Dan. ‘No, that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Your lips, spoke your promise,’ said Ophelia. ‘And mine do answer yes, a thousand times yes. You will mend my wounded heart with your gentle, tender affections.’

  ‘No, you misunderstand,’ said Dan.

  ‘There is no misunderstanding a kiss, my lord,’ said Ophelia. ‘’Tis clear enough. My father will be astonished when you call upon him. But I will vouchsafe my love and he will learn to regard you as a second son of his heart.’

  ‘I’m only eighteen,’ said Dan. ‘I’m too young to get married.’

  ‘I am but sixteen, yet I am ready to pledge my life to thine,’ said Ophelia.

  ‘This can’t happen,’ said Dan.

  ‘My lord, you will not betray me and leave my reputation to certain ruin?’ said Ophelia. ‘To be condemned, shunned by all, for being a temptress of men.’

  ‘No,’ said Dan. ‘No, that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Then you shall go directly to my father,’ said Ophelia, ‘and request his blessing.’

  ‘I think we’re rushing into this,’ said Dan. ‘You’ve only just broken up with Hamlet.’

  ‘Do not speak his name to me,’ said Ophelia. ‘I see now he only ever showed me a false face. But yours is a truer heart.’

  8

  The Play Within a Play

  Dan hurried to the great hall to find Selby. When he got there he didn’t recognise it at first – the room had been transformed. The cavernous space was dark except for a simple stage, which was lit with candles. The performers were acting out a silent pantomime before the main play. The king and queen and their courtiers were arranged in an audience, watching. Dan spotted Selby in the shadows, at the back of the audience, sitting with Hamlet.

  Dan crept over. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He tapped Selby on the shoulder. She flinched and turned. Hamlet glared at him. Dan tilted his head to indicate he wanted her to follow him outside. Selby looked at him like he was nuts. She pointed to the actors on stage. The king and queen were only a few metres away. She did not want to disturb them. Dan leaned in and whispered urgently, ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’

  Selby’s brow furrowed, as if to say, ‘What?’

  Dan beckoned to her to follow him. Selby got up and went with him into the darkness at the very back of the room, where they would be out of earshot.

  ‘We need to leave now,’ said Dan. ‘Come on!’

  Selby didn’t move. ‘But you’re the one who wanted to stay,’ she said.

  ‘It’s not safe here for us,’ said Dan. ‘Not for me anyway.’ He glanced over his shoulder checking that Ophelia wasn’t close by.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Selby. ‘You’re the one who said this was a once-in-a-lifetime learning opportunity, more meaningful than anything we could ever experience at home.’

  ‘It’s getting a bit too meaningful,’ said Dan. ‘Ophelia thinks I’m going to marry her.’

  Selby let out a bark of laughter.

  The audience turned. A courtier shushed her. Dan drew Selby out through the doorway and into a passageway beyond where they’d be able to talk at a more normal volume.

  ‘She was crying,’ said Dan. ‘I gave her a hug and apparently that’s the same as a marriage proposal for nobility in sixteenth century Denmark.’

  ‘A hug?’ said Selby.

  ‘And a very small kiss,’ conceded Dan.

  ‘Oh, Dan,’ said Selby. ‘You’re well-read. You should know better. That is a marriage proposal in the sixteenth century.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking,’ said Dan.

  ‘No kidding,’ said Selby.

  Dan looked so dejected.

  ‘Look, you should think about this,’ said Selby. ‘Why don’t you marry her?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Dan.

  ‘Everything about this situation is ridiculous,’ said Selby. ‘Why not lean into it? You like her. She is smart, kind and beautiful. You love it here. You could marry her and live the rest of your life inside this play.’

  ‘I’m black,’ said Dan. ‘That’s going to cause problems sooner or later.’

  ‘Othello was black,’ said Selby. ‘And he was in a Shakespeare play.’

  ‘Othello died,’ said Dan. ‘After murdering his wife. Cleopatra was Greek-African and she died after watching her husband die. Shylock was Jewish and he was stripped of all his wealth and charged with attempted murder. Ethnically diverse people do not do well in Shakespearean plays.’

  ‘Maybe it’s your job to change all that,’ said Selby.

  ‘But I don’t want to get married!’ said Dan.

  ‘Not ever?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Not to Ophelia,’ said Dan. ‘She’s really clingy.’

  ‘To be fair, all the men in her life are horrible,’ said Selby. ‘It’s no wonder she has issues.’

  ‘Please, this isn’t a joke,’ said Dan. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’

  ‘But we can’t leave,’ said Selby. ‘Hamlet and Ophelia are both a mess. What will happen to them if we walk away now?’

  ‘Well, Ophelia will go mad and drown when she falls in the river,’ said Dan. ‘And Hamlet will die in a sword fight with Laertes.’

  ‘Wow, that’s really bad!’ said Selby. ‘I thought Hamlet was about to be sent off to England.’

  ‘He never gets there,’ said Dan.

  ‘We can’t just walk away and let them both die,’ said Selby.

  ‘But they’re fictional,’ said Dan.

  Selby knew this was true, but it that didn’t make it right. ‘They don’t feel fictional,’ she said. ‘In this world, they are as real as us. This is reality for them.’

  ‘If this is their reality then we should leave them to it,’ said Dan.

  ‘No,’ said Selby. ‘That’s just wrong. Letting someone die when you know you could prevent it is wrong.’

  ‘Who made you the Queen of Morality and Ethics,’ said Dan.

  ‘It’s not complicated,’ said Selby. ‘It’s instinctive. Letting a person die is wrong. It feels wrong.’

  ‘If we stay here, we could end up dead too,’ said Dan. ‘Do you know what the death rate is in this play for the leading characters? One hundred per cent! They all die. If we become characters, we’ll become a part of that.’

  ‘Doing the wrong thing because it’s easier is just cowardice,’ said Selby.

  ‘I can’t die here,’ said Dan. ‘Who will look after my dad? What will happen to your parents? It would break their hearts if you just went missing and never went back.’

  Selby imagined her mum. She might be angry with her mum now, but that would only make it worse if she went missing. It would make her mum feel guilty as well as heartbroken. It made Selby feel guilty to make her mother feel guilty. That wouldn’t be fair. Then Selby had an idea.

  ‘Let’s take him with us,’ said Selby.

  ‘What?’ said Dan.

  ‘Let’s take Hamlet with us,’ said Selby. ‘Back to the bookstore. If he leaves the narrative, he won’t drive Ophelia nuts. He won’t kill anyone.’

  ‘But what would we do with him?’ asked Dan.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Selby. ‘But if he stays here, he’s going to die anyway.’

  ‘That’s a crazy idea,’ said Dan.

  ‘I know you don’t want to marry Ophelia,’ said Selby. ‘But if we don’t do something she is going to die soon. Do you want that on your conscience?’

  ‘No,’ conceded Dan.

  ‘Then what’s the alternative?’ asked Selby. ‘I suppose we could take Ophelia with us, but then you’d definitely have to marry her.’

  ‘Okay, fine,’ said Dan. ‘We’ll take Hamlet.’

  ‘Good decision,’ said Selby. ‘Let’s get him.’

  They went back to the great hall. The play was in full swing. An actor dressed up like a king was lying on a bench.

  ‘What’s happening?’ whispered Selby.

  ‘This is the re-enactment,’ said Dan. ‘They’re going to act out the murder of Hamlet’s father.’

  ‘We’re supposed to be watching how the king reacts,’ said Selby. She looked across at Claudius. His face was unnaturally impassive.

  ‘What do you call the play?’ Claudius asked Hamlet.

  ‘The Mousetrap,’ said Hamlet.

  Claudius’s head whipped round, as if to gauge whether his stepson’s words had a hidden meaning.

  On stage, another actor entered, carrying a jug. He went over to the player king and held up the jug in a theatrical gesture, to show the audience.

  ‘Thou mixture rank, or midnight weeds collected,’ said the actor, talking to the jug itself. ‘On wholesome life usurp immediately.’ Then he poured the poison in the sleeping king’s ear.

  Hamlet turned to his mother and stepfather and explained the plot loudly. ‘A poisons him i’th’garden for’s estate.’ He stared into his stepfather’s eyes. ‘You shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago’s wife.’

  Claudius shot to his feet. He was quivering with emotion. It was not clear if it was rage or fear – most likely both. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

  ‘Give me some light.’ ordered Claudius.

  Servants hurried to light torches.

  ‘Away!’ barked Claudius as he stormed out, all his entourage following with him.

  Hamlet was delighted, like a child who had carried out a prank. He was quivering with excitement as he walked over to Selby and Dan. ‘Oh, good Selby, I’ll take the ghost’s word for a thousand pound,’ said Hamlet. ‘Didst perceive?’

  ‘Yeah, I saw it,’ said Selby.

  ‘Upon the talk of the poisoning?’ said Hamlet.

  ‘He didn’t take that well,’ said Selby.

  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern entered from a side door and beckoned to Hamlet.

  ‘Ah, I must see what yonder fools require,’ said Hamlet. He left Selby and Dan to talk among themselves.

  ‘So that’s it?’ said Selby. ‘Claudius did kill his brother?’

  Dan nodded.

  ‘Now Hamlet knows the truth, what’s he going to do?’ asked Selby.

  ‘This is the bit where you get to see Hamlet’s main character flaw,’ said Dan. ‘He can’t make a decision.’

  ‘I guess if you’re having mental health problems it’s hard to think clearly,’ said Selby. ‘We should talk to him before he does something rash.’

  They turned around. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were still there, but Hamlet was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Where did he go?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Dan.

  ‘What now?’ asked Selby.

  ‘There’s a scene coming up,’ said Dan, ‘where Hamlet confronts his mother.’

  ‘So?’ asked Selby.

  ‘It’s the first death of the play,’ said Dan.

  ‘Come on,’ said Selby. ‘We’ve got to find them.’

  They both took off running.

  9

  Things Turn Nasty

  As they ran up the main staircase, Dan and Selby could hear shouting. It was Hamlet. ‘Mother, you have my father much offended!’ he bellowed.

  ‘We’ve got to stop him,’ said Selby.

  Selby rushed down the long corridor. The door to the queen’s bedroom was hanging open. When Selby burst in, what she saw was shocking. Hamlet held the queen by her arms. The queen looked distressed. Hamlet was ranting and out of control.

  ‘Come, come and sit you down. You shall not budge!’ ordered Hamlet, shoving his mother so she fell backwards onto the bed.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Selby.

  But Hamlet was raving with anger. His face was red, the veins in his neck were bulging and spittle flew out of his mouth as he shouted at his mother, ‘You go not till I set you up a glass where you may see the inmost part of you.’ Hamlet turned to find a mirror.

  The queen looked terrified. It was horrible to see a woman who, as queen, usually had such composure and dignity, being treated with so little respect.

  ‘What wilt thou do?’ asked the queen. She was trembling with fear. ‘Thou wilt not murder me?’

  Hamlet did not respond. He was too busy dragging a large mirror across the room. The queen apparently thought he did intend to murder her. ‘Help, help ho!’ she cried out in desperation.

  A voice came from behind the curtains. ‘What ho! Help, help, help!’

  Hamlet spun around, drawing his sword and facing the sound. He realised there was someone hiding behind the cloth. ‘How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!’

  Hamlet lunged toward the curtain, but Selby dived forward and caught his arm.

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘You’ll kill him.’

  ‘That is my object, lady,’ declared Hamlet. ‘Unhand me.’

  ‘Selby, what are you doing?’ called Dan, but he couldn’t move to help her because on seeing another man enter her bedroom, the queen had run to Dan for protection, collapsing in his arms.

  Hamlet tried to shake Selby off, but, unlike the queen, Selby was used to roughhousing with siblings. Selby hugged Hamlet’s arm tight into her armpit, squeezing it to the side of her chest. She couldn’t make Hamlet let go of the sword, but she could hold on to his sword arm so he couldn’t move freely. ‘You’ll regret it. You can’t unkill a man. You’ll set off a chain of events that will end tragically for everyone.’

  ‘Not I!’ declared Hamlet. ‘Unhand me now!’

  Selby tightened her grip. The sword was held fast. She could feel the initial surge of rage starting to seep out of Hamlet. When suddenly – Polonius burst out from behind the curtain and ran straight into Hamlet’s outstretched blade.

  ‘Aaagh!’ cried Polonius.

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Selby, letting go of Hamlet’s arm.

  Hamlet was shocked to find Polonius impaled on his sword. He drew the blade out of the old man’s chest and Polonius collapsed on the ground.

  ‘Oh me!’ cried the distraught queen. ‘What hast thou done?’ She collapsed to her knees, pulling Dan down with her.

  Hamlet was too shocked to comprehend. ‘Nay, I know not. Is it the king?’

  ‘You thought it was your uncle behind the curtain?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Aye,’ said Hamlet.

  ‘Oh, I am slain,’ whimpered Polonius. He struggled for breath. The blood from whatever internal injury he had suffered was on his lips. After one final shuddering half breath, he was dead.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Selby. ‘This is really bad.’

  ‘Thou wretched rash, intruding fool, farewell,’ said Hamlet, shaking his head. ‘I took thee for thy better.’

  Selby grabbed Hamlet’s arm and shook it. ‘This is why you need to make sure you know who you’re about to kill before you kill them!’

  ‘I thought you were anti-violence,’ said Dan from the side of the room, where he was still propping up the queen.

  ‘I’m also anti-stupidity,’ said Selby.

  Hamlet turned on his mother. He was still really angry with her. He didn’t spare a beat to be remorseful over what he had just done. ‘Sit you down,’ he ordered his mother. ‘And let me wring your heart, for so I shall. If it be made of penetrable stuff. If damned custom have not brassed it so, that it be proof and bulwark against sense.’

  ‘Hey, stop that!’ said Selby, whacking Hamlet on the shoulder to get his attention.

  ‘Definitely getting over your aversion to violence now,’ said Dan.

  ‘Be quiet, you’re not helping,’ said Selby, before turning back to Hamlet. ‘You can’t talk to your mother that way. It’s no way for a son to behave, no matter what she’s done.’

  ‘Yay, what have I done, that thous dar’st wag thy tongue in noise so rude against me?’ asked the queen.

  Dan sighed and braced himself for the onslaught he had read many times in the play. ‘You shouldn’t have asked,’ he said.

  Because now, Hamlet really started yelling. ‘Such an act that blurs the grace and blush of modesty!’ He waved his arms about as he struggled to find words big enough to encapsulate his feelings. ‘Call virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose from the fair forehead of an innocent love and sets a blister there, makes marriage vows as false as dicers’ oaths.’

  ‘Enough!’ yelled Selby, picking up a jug of water from the bedside table and throwing it in Hamlet’s face. Unfortunately, her hand slipped on the handle and the whole jug flew out of her grip, hitting Hamlet on the nose. His head jolted back from the blow. The jug and its contents smashed at his feet on the floor.

  ‘Whoops, sorry about that,’ said Selby.

  Hamlet staggered backwards. It had been a heavy jug. He was finally stunned into silence. Selby took advantage of the opportunity to say what she wanted to say. ‘You can’t speak to a woman that way, let alone your mother. You should be ashamed of yourself. Where I come from, your mother could get an apprehended violence order against you for the way you’re behaving.’

  Hamlet drew breath to argue back, but then suddenly fell silent. At first Selby thought he was listening, but then she realised he was looking at something behind her. Selby felt the awful sense of dread that had affected her when she was up on the castle walls. She turned to see the ghost – Hamlet’s father.

  The old king was an ethereal spectre, made up of nothing more solid than light and shadow. He walked into the centre of the room, but he was clearly dead and it was horrible to behold – like he was decaying before their eyes. The room seemed to grow cold with his presence.