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
"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
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