ACT I
Prologue.
Enter, shrouded, MURDERERS.
FIRST MURDERER:
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by our masters' feats;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
And now, instead of raiding ancient tombs,
foiling rivals' plots, and leveling up,
They caper nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not suited for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
Yet always denied, the desirous maidens
Stolen away by the handsome protagonists,
I, cheated of power by dissembling nature,
Spat upon, mocked, humiliated,
Sent on meaningless tasks wanting of purpose,
So derided that dogs bark as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own worthlessness:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set wild my fellow, foolish henchmen
In deadly hate, the one against the other:
They shall suspect whosover I desire, while I
Play the innocent fool, as harmless as a babe.
CHORUS:
O woe! O woe!
SECOND MURDERER
After their loyal servants are slain
Haughty masters, who thought them but playthings
Shall soon find that without their comical aid,
They are helpless 'gainst our furious assault.
Let them not underestimate us again.
Hath not a henchman eyes? Hath not henchmen
Hands, organs, senses, affections, passions?
Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons,
Subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
Warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
Our masters are?
If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If you tickle us, do we not laugh?
If you poison us, do we not slowly lose HP?
And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
FIRST MURDERER
As Richard Hawk III, Vice-Governor
Of Our Great United Colonies
Did bare fangs against his master, and
O'erthrow the heavens and the earth,
So shall we: Yet even the mighty Richard
Did need aid in his quest, that of his
Gigantic mechanical contraption.
So shall we require aid, as well.
From both God Our Father, and our Godfather.
And we have it: The noble houses of Italy
Have agreed to teach us their secret ways.
Our Henchmen Mafia moves at night, unseen.
And if Princes and Kings be as unwary
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
Dawn shall soon smile upon a mound of corpses.
CHORUS
Who can stop this outpouring of blood?
In deadly times of uncivil hate
One beacon shines over all as the sun:
The Throne of Denmark, guiding light of the nations.
Salvation of our star-crossed henchmen
May well lie in new King Claudius's hands,
And those of his magnificent servants,
The fair Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Who are also extraordinarily handsome, witty, and brave,
yet, somehow, still romantically available.
Ladies, be advised.
