We had a very late dinner, and afterward, the group became maudlin with drink and talk of the possibility of war.
A drama, Sand said, finally, prepared to put an end to our sad mood. She stood up. She waved her arms up, lit by the candelabra.
Pauline raised an eyebrow. Which one?
Hamlet.
Hamlet, Pauline repeated. This is how you mean to cheer us up? But she was already smiling as she said it and stood up.
No, not that one. Not the whole one, Sand said. In honor of our future rulers, the Prussians, we will do the German traveling version of the play, in which we find Shakespeare’s play like a captive, much abused and much shorter. And hilarious.
Will we do it in German? Turgenev asked, his voice very quiet.
Sand laughed. We should, to practice.
She waved us to the small theater within her beautiful house.
All night long, after we’d tried not to speak of the inevitable coming war, it was easier to acknowledge now with jokes. It would be Hamlet as farce, and we would each have to pay multiple parts. Pauline was to be the Queen, and Sand Hamlet, of course, Turgenev the King’s ghost. Maurice exclaimed with dismay at having to be the King and also Ophelia’s minister father. Is there nothing more interesting for me? he asked.
The King is very interesting, said Sand, and we laughed.
I was Ophelia, but also the Queen of the Night, which thrilled me.
Why is there a Queen of the Night? Pauline asked. Was she in the original?
No, Sand said. A German affectation. Done because they love her, I suppose.
There’ll be one in every opera once the Prussians are done, Turgenev said.
You’ll see, she said. She’s terrific. I like her very much. You will, too. You won’t mind when they eventually include her in Don Giovanni. They also call her the Queen of Silence.
We laughed at this, Pauline most of all.
Sand chose Plauchut for the head of the troupe of actors, who were, in the play, from Germany, made to perform a play that reminds the murdering royal couple, Hamlet’s mother and uncle, of their guilt.
We need Furies to accompany the Queen, Sand declared, and appointed Maurice, Pauline, and Turgenev as the Furies—Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone.
I stood before them, cloaked in a blue wool blanket for my starry mantle of night. I wrapped it dramatically around my head, but as soon as I did, to my surprise, I felt something sad descend—something sad but nobly sad. Outside, the lightly fervid humor of the night.
Where are we? murmured Turgenev, from just offstage. Is it her land of women from The Magic Flute?
Well, they are Furies, Sand said. That is all you must know. Now let’s start.
This version of the play begins when the Queen of the Night calls her Furies to her. I am dark Night that sends the world to sleep, I recited.
I am Morpheus’s wife, the time for vicious pleasure.
Protector of thieves, guardian of illicit love;
I am dark Night, and it is in my power
To give the whore her rest, and cover up her shame,
Give Evil its free rein, all mankind to betray.
Ere Phoebus arise, I shall have my prize.
Ye children of my breast, ye daughters of my lust,
Rise up, rise up, you Furies, appear before thy mother!
Regard with care all that she is about to share!
The Furies appeared and welcomed me. The comedy of it had fled at first, but it returned at the sight of Turgenev in the light from the fire, both hilarious and very convincing as a crone.
Maurice, as Alecto: What says dark Night, Queen of Silence?
What new game does she propose? What is her wish and will?
Pauline, as Megaera: From Acheron’s dark pit come I, Megaera, hither,
To hear from thee, mother of all evil, all thou might desire.
Turgenev, as Tisiphone: Dark Night! Speak!
What wishes wait in that dark heart?
Pauline giggled.
Listen, ye Furies all three, listen, ye children of darkness and mothers
of all misfortune. Listen to your poppy-crowned Queen of the Night,
patroness of thieves and robbers, friend and light to all that burns,
lover of stolen goods, dearly loved goddess of unlawful love:
how often are my altars honored by it?
This night and the coming morrow, stand with me;
The King of this land burns with love for his brother’s wife,
Whom for her sake he has murdered so that he might possess both wife
And crown. Now is the hour at hand when they lie together.
I shall throw my mantle over them both, that neither may see their sin.
Make ready to sow the seeds of their disunion, mingle poison with their
Marriage, put jealousy in their hearts. Kindle a fire of revenge and let the
Sparks fly over this whole realm, till murder burns in Hamlet’s heart, and
Gives joy to Hell, so that those who swim in this sea of murder may soon drown.
Begone, hasten, and fulfill my command!
As this last was said, it left my mouth with the whistling of something terrible set loose in the dark.
That those who swim in this sea of murder may drown.
The Furies gave their last speeches.