My Name That I'm Not About To Tell Ya'll

Shadrach and Clifford

Honors World Liturature and Composition

6 December 2016

Hamlet Alternative Ending

The starts twinkled overhead as Hamlet meandered down small path in the woods. It was such a peaceful night, he mused, it would be such a shame if something were to come along and ruin it. He noticed a envelope of high quality parchment lying innocently on the ground. Taking a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, Hamlet picked up the envelope that could only be from the King, and had his suspicions confirmed when the seal holding the envelope closed proved to be the King's crest. He found a corner hidden in shadow and sat down to read it. Popping the wax seal open with a practiced move, he unfolded the contents and his eyebrows raised as he read of the news that Guildenstern and Rosencrantz were in Bedlam, and would not be returning. His lips curled in amusement. When he had planned to take care of them, he meant just give them the slip, not have them in Bedlam, but this was a far better end for them than anything he could have devised. Picking up a melodic voice traveling from up ahead, he quickened his pace and came upon a clearing that held the gems of flowers. Sparkling white carnations and glowing Begonia's along with many others lined a crystal-clear pool of water in which you could just make out the bottom, a thirty-feet or so down. A few long, thin branches stuck out over the water, and the owner of the angelic voice, Ophelia, slowly made her way towards them.

"Ophelia!" He called, unable to resist any longer. She turned, and a soft smile graced her face as she strolled majestically towards him. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and shone like the sun, but that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the look of sheer love and joy and hope that radiated from her eyes, and he rushed forward, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her around. "Oh, my darling Ophelia. I only wanted to keep you safe." She gently kissed him on the check.

"But that is what you have done, have you not? The method in which you went about it could have been more well thought out, but I forgive you." She bent down and plucked a rose from its stem and gently placed it in Hamlet's palm. "After all, all couples have their quarrels once in a while." She laughed, and Hamlet realized she still loved him. "My father might have been concerned about the difference in class, but love can cross that border." Hamlet felt guilt return at the mention of her father.

"Ophelia, I am truly sorry about your father. I was startled, and at that point, had lost my senses for a little while. If I could return him to you, I would." She gently placed a finger on his lips.

"I know, darling. I have grieved. And I forgive you." Hamlet felt he didn't deserve it, but Ophelia continued. "It is in the past. Let us have a fresh beginning?"

"Ophelia, I will gladly accept." The two linked hands. "I must plead with you, however, to go find somewhere safe."

"I will, my love." He daintily kissed her hand, and she reciprocated with a chaste peck on the check. She turned and strode towards the stable of the castle. "I am headed to the nunnery, and I will seek refugee until you come get me." She called over her shoulder, and with a flash of branches, she was gone. Hamlet stood there with a smile on his face for a few moments, and then turned around and headed to the castle. He had plans to complete, and it might just entail a prisoner with a trial instead of a victim. He didn't notice the pair of eyes from the shrubbery blink and fade into the shadows.

Hamlet drew closer to the formal dining and dancing room. He faintly heard a clang and a pop come from the room and decided to take the more scenic route. Slipping behind a tapestry, he crept along the stone passageway, Horatio following behind, until they reached a small, circular room. There was a rectangular glass pane that showed a single person pouring the contents of small glass bottle into a silver goblet. He took a closer look and the identity of the person was revealed to be Cladius. That must be poison. Hamlet concluded. It seemed to be a favorite of his. Hamlet turned and exited the, heading for his mother's room to warn her. He had seen enough.

About half an hour later, his mother had been told, and revealed she knew of the crime but couldn't do anything. She didn't have enough pull, even as a queen. Hamlet conceded the point and told her he was working on a plan for legal justice, detailing his plans when she queried him as to what they were. They were called to a feast just as they finished talking, and they both vowed to not drink anything in the goblets. Arriving at the dining room, they met Laertes, who gave them both a friendly smile, which surprised Hamlet. He returned the smile and the trio headed inside, seating themselves in their usual spots. As the dinner went on, Hamlet noticed Claudius becoming more and more concerned, even if he hid it well, and Lartes slowly becoming more and more tense. Cladius spoke up.

"Hamlet, my boy, why haven't you drunk anything? Aren't you thirsty?"

"No, sir, I am not. Thank you for your concern, however." Claudius nodded, a strained smile on his face.

Laertes suddenly burst from his chair, a gleaming dagger in his hand, and plunged the knife into Claudius's chest, at such an angle it was guaranteed to hit his heart. Claudius tumbled from the chair in surprise. Laertes stood over him, a look of grim determination and sorrow on his face. Horatio's expression was the picture of surprise. Gertrude had a hand clapped over her mouth in horrified shock. Hamlet stared. He slowly looked up at Laertes.

"I overheard you and Ophelia talking in near the clearing with the pool." He answered the unspoken question. "My father's death is forgiven. But if you break my sisters heart again, I won't hesitate to do my duty as a brother." Hamlet nodded.

"I accept the warning." He replied solemnly. The trio turned their attention back to Claudius and saw he was dead. Gertrude sat down heavily, mourning and relief warring on her face. She looked up after a moment.

"We'll grieve for your father, Hamlet. And we'll have a small burial for your Uncle. Justice, however fatal, has run its course." She finally announced.


Hamlet finished writing the letter he was currently working on, and handed it to the post carrier, with the orders of "Get this to the nunnery down the road, as quickly as possible. It is for Ophelia only." He could only wait, now. He went to his room to contemplate who would replace his father and uncle. He felt that he was too young, too inexperienced. His mother thought otherwise. A knock on the door of his rooms brought him out of his contemplations. "Come in." He called expectantly. His mother entered.

"Hi, Mom!" He greeted, pleased to see her. "How are you doing?"

"I am … dealing with it better than I thought I would. That's not what I came here for, though. I wanted to tell you why I married Cladius. Aside from the fact that I have less political sway and power, he threatened you. As well as me, but he did threaten you, first. I wasn't about to risk your life." Hamlet nodded, and swept her into a hug.

"All's forgiven. You are my mother, no matter what." He replied. Another knock sounded on the door. Gertrude released him and stood tall, with a mischevius smile on her face.

"I will see you later, Hamlet. There is someone I think you will be happy to see." She walked out of the room, and his former fiancée and girlfriend entered. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing gleefully. She was giggling when he finally set her down. He dropped to one knee and grabbed her hand.

"Ophelia, would you please do me the honor of marrying me?" She smiled a sweet smile and replied,

"Of course! I love you!" Hamlet stood up and hugged her again, and they shared a sweet kiss. It was going to be alright in the kingdom.

A few months later, after they had had a proper state of mourning for King Hamlet, the family and subjects gathered for a wedding. Hamlet had decided to take the throne, and he would have many good advisers. Laertes walled Ophelia's down the aisle, and Horatio was Hamlet's best man The wedding was a huge success, and the couple began their new life as King and Queen.