ROS: Quite.
GUIL: Well, then.
ROS: Quite, quite. ( Nods with spurious confidence. ) Seek him out. ( Pause. ) Etcetera.
GUIL: Quite.
ROS: Well. ( Small pause. ) Well, that's a step in the right direction.
GUIL: You didn't like him?
ROS: Who?
GUIL: Good God, I hope more tears are shed for us!
ROS: Well, it's progress, isn't it? Something positive. Seek him out. ( Looks round without moving his feet. ) Where does one begin... ? ( Takes one step towards the wings and halts. )
GUIL: Well, that's a step in the right direction.
ROS: You think so? He could be anywhere.
GUIL: All right-you go that way, I'll go this way.
ROS: Right.
They walk towards opposite wings. ROS halts.
N o.
GUIL halts.
You go this way---I'll go that way.
GUIL: All right.
They march towards each other, cross. ROS halts.
ROS: Wait a minute.
GUIL halts.
I think we should stick together. He might be violent.
GUIL: Good point. I'll come with you.
GUIL marches across to ROS . They turn to leave. ROS halts.
ROS: No, I’ll come with you.
GUIL: Right.
They turn, march across to the opposite wing. ROS halls. GUIL halts.
ROS: I'll come with you, my way.
GUIL: All right.
They turn again and march across. ROS halts. GUIL halts.
ROS: I've just thought. If we both go, he could come here. That would be stupid, wouldn't it?
GUIL: All right---I'll stay, you go.
ROS: Right.
GUIL marches to midstage.
I say.
GUIL wheels and carries on marching back towards ROS , who starts marching downstage. They cross. ROS halts.
I've just thought.
GUIL halts.
We ought to stick together; he might be violent.
GUIL: Good point.
GUIL marches down to join ROS . They stand still for a moment in their original positions.
Well, at last we're getting somewhere.
Pause.
Of course, he might not come.
ROS ( airily): Oh, he'll come.
GUIL: We'd have some explaining to do.
ROS: He'll come. ( Airily wanders upstage. ) Don't worry-take my word for it-( Looks out-is appalled. ) He's coming!
GUIL: What's he doing?
ROS: Walking.
GUIL: Alone?
ROS: No.
GUIL: Not walking?
ROS: No.
GUIL: Who's with him?
ROS: The old man.
GUIL: Walking?
ROS: No.
GUIL: Ah. That's an opening if ever there was one. ( And is suddenly galvanized into action. ) Let him walk into the trap!
ROS: What trap?
GUIL: You stand there! Don't let him pass!
He positions ROS with his back to one wing, facing HAMLET 's entrance. GUIL
positions himself next to ROS , a few feet away they are covering one side of the stage, facing the opposite side. GUIL unfastens his belt. ROS does the same. They join the two belts, and hold them taut between them. it trousers slide slowly down. HAMLET
enters opposite, slowly, dragging POLONIUS 's body. He enters upstage, makes a small arc and leaves by side, a few feet downstage. ROS and GUIL , holding the belts taut, stare at him in some bewilderment. HAMLET leaves, dragging the body. They relax the the belts.
ROS: That was close.
GUIL: There's a limit to what two people can do.
They undo the belts. ROS pulls up his trousers.
ROS ( worriedly --he walks a few paces towards HAMLET): was dead.
GUIL: Of course he's dead!
ROS ( turns to GUIL): Properly.
GUIL: ( angrily): Death's death, isn't it?
ROS falls silent. Pause.
Perhaps hell come back this way.
ROS starts to take off his belt.
No, no, no!-if we can't learn by experience, what else have we got?
ROS desists. Pause.
ROS: Give him a shout.
GUIL: I thought we'd been into all that.
ROS ( shouts): Hamlet!
GUIL: Don't be absurd.
ROS ( shouts): Lord Hamlet!
