Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead (15 page)

ROS
: Well, we were bringing Hamlet—but then some pirates——

GUIL:
I don't begin to understand. Who are all these people,
what's it got to do with me? You turn up out of the blue with some cock and bull story——

ROS
(with letter)
: We have a letter——

GUIL
(snatches it, opens it):
A letter—yes—that's true. That's something . . . a letter . . .
(Reads.)
“As England is Denmark's faithful tributary . . . as love between them like the palm might flourish, etcetera . . . that on the knowing of this contents, without delay of any kind, should those bearers, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, put to sudden death——”

He double-takes
,
ROS
snatches the letter
,
GUIL
snatches it back
,
ROS
snatches it half back. They read it again and look up
.

The
PLAYER
gets to his feet and walks over to his barrel and kicks it and shouts into it
.

PLAYER
: They've gone! It's all over!

One by one the
PLAYERS
emerge, impossibly, from the barrel, and form a casually menacing circle round
ROS
and
GUIL
,
who are still appalled and mesmerised
.

GUIL
(quietly):
Where we went wrong was getting on a boat. We can move, of course, change direction, rattle about, but our movement is contained within a larger one that carries us along as inexorably as the wind and current. . . .

ROS:
They had it in for us, didn't they? Right from the beginning. Who'd have thought that we were so important?

GUIL
: But why? Was it all for this? Who are we that so much should converge on our little deaths?
(In anguish to the
PLAYER
:) Who are
wet

PLAYER
: You are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. That's enough.

GUIL
: No—it is not enough. To be told so little—to such an end—and still, finally, to be denied an explanation——

PLAYER
: In our experience, most things end in death.

GUIL
(fear, vengeance, scorn):
Your experience!—
Actors!

He snatches a dagger from the
PLAYER'
S
belt and holds the point at the
PLAYER
'
S
throat: the
PLAYER
backs and
GUIL
advances, speaking more quietly
.

I'm talking about death—and you've never experienced
that
. And you cannot
act
it. You die a thousand casual deaths—with none of that intensity which squeezes out life . . . and no blood runs cold anywhere. Because even as you die you know that you will come back in a different hat. But no one gets up after
death
—there is no applause—there is only silence and some second-hand clothes, and that's—
death

And he pushes the blade in up to the hilt. The
PLAYER
stands with huge, terrible eyes, clutches at the wound as the blade withdraws: he makes small weeping sounds and jails to his knees, and then right down
.

While he is dying
,
GUIL
,
nervous, high, almost hysterical, wheels on the
TRAGEDIANS—

If we have a destiny, then so had he—and if this is ours, then that was his—and if there are no explanations for us, then let there be none for him——

The
TRAGEDIANS
watch the
PLAYER
die: they watch with some interest. The
PLAYER
finally lies still. A short moment of silence. Then the
TRAGEDIANS
start to applaud with genuine admiration. The
PLAYER
stands up, brushing himself down
.

PLAYER
{modestly):
Oh, come, come, gentlemen—no flattery—it was merely competent——

The
TRAGEDIANS
are still congratulating him. The
PLAYER
approaches
GUIL
,
who stands rooted, holding the dagger
.

PLAYER
: What did you think?
(Pause.)
You see, it
is
the kind they do believe in—it's what is expected.

He holds his hand out for the dagger
,
GUIL
slowly puts the point of the dagger on to the
PLAYER'S
hand, and pushes . . . the blade slides back into the handle. The
PLAYER
smiles, reclaims the dagger
.

For a moment you thought I'd—cheated.

ROS
relieves his own tension with loud nervy laughter
.

ROS
: Oh, very good!
Very
good! Took me in completely—didn't he take you in completely—
(claps his hands)
. Encore! Encore!

PLAYER
(activated, arms spread, the professional):
Deaths for all ages and occasions! Deaths by suspension, convulsion, consumption, incision, execution, asphyxiation and malnutrition—! Climactic carnage, by poison and by steel—! Double deaths by duel—! Show!—

ALFRED
,
still in his Queen's costume, dies by poison: the
PLAYER
,
with rapier, kills the
“KING”
and duels with a fourth
TRAGEDIAN
,
inflicting and receiving a wound. The two remaining
TRAGEDIANS
,
the two
“SPIES”
dressed in the same coats as
ROS
and
GUIL
,
are stabbed, as before. And the light is fading over the deaths which take place right upstage
.

(Dying amid the dying—tragically; romantically.)
So there's an end to that—it's commonplace: light goes with life, and in the winter of your years the dark comes early. . . .

GUIL
(tired, drained, but still an edge of impatience; over the mime):
No . . . no . . . not for
us
, no like that. Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over . . . Death is not anything . . . death is not. . . It's the absence of presence, nothing more . . . the endless time of never coming back . . . a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes no sound. . . .

The light has gone upstage. Only
GUIL
and
ROS
are visible as
ROS'J
clapping falters to silence
.

Small pause
.

ROS
: That's it, then, is it?

No answer. He looks out front
.

The sun's going down. Or the earth's coming up, as the fashionable theory has it.

Small pause
.

Not that it makes any difference.

Pause
.

What was it all about? When did it begin?

Pause. No answer
.

Couldn't we just stay put? I mean no one is going to come on and drag us off They'll just have to wait. We're still young. . . fit. . . we've got years. . . .

Pause. No answer
.

(A cry.)
We've done nothing wrong! We didn't harm anyone. Did we?

GUIL
: I can't remember.

ROS
pulls himself together
.

ROS
: All right, then. I don't care. I've had enough. To tell you the truth, I'm relieved.

And he disappears from view
,
GUIL
does not notice
.

GUIL
: Our names shouted in a certain dawn. . . a message . . . a summons. . . There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said—no. But somehow we missed it.
(He looks round and sees he is alone.)

Rosen—?
Guil—?

He gathers himself
.

Well, we'll know better next time. Now you see me, now you—
(and disappears)
.

Immediately the whole stage is lit up, revealing, upstage, arranged in the approximate positions last held by the dead
TRAGEDIANS
,
the tableau of court and corpses which is the last scene of
Hamlet.

That is: The
KING, QUEEN, LAERTES
and
HAMLET
all dead
.
HORATIO
holds
HAMLET. FORTINBRAS
is there
.

So are two
AMBASSADORS
from England
.

AMBASSADOR
: The sight is dismal;

and our affairs from England come too late.
The ears are senseless that should give us hearing
to tell him his commandment is fulfilled,
that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.
Where should we have our thanks?

HORATIO
: Not from his mouth,

had it the ability of life to thank you:
He never gave commandment for their death.
But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
you from the Polack wars, and you from England,
are here arrived, give order that these bodies
high on a stage be placed to the view;
and let me speak to the yet unknowing world
how these things came about: so shall you hear
of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts,
of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
and, in this upshot, purposes mistook
fallen on the inventors' heads: all this can I truly deliver.

But during the above speech, the play fades out, overtaken by dark and music
.