Letters to Laertes

The Nymph

Dearest brother Laertes,

It is with low spirits that I recount to you these past days. I regret to say that this and the last letter will reach you together- recent business has captivated my time, and only dear Lord Hamlet is to blame.

Several nights past, I was approached by my young prince in my bed chamber. Salacious though it seems, he was nothing short of distraught, sighing and moaning, and left without a word to me. I related this back to Father, who now says that Hamlet is surely beside himself over my lack of attention. He relented his previous orders and informed me to involve myself with the prince once more- nay, to quite enchant him. He would hide in the room and listen in, to confirm his conclusion.

I was not certain of Father's intentions (given his loyalties to our king), but remained obedient to his direction. After all, I could at last speak to the young lord again and assure him of my previous affections. He seemed so beside himself without them at his company.

How much a fool I am, though. Lord Hamlet was far from despondent when I spoke to him next. A right braying peacock- he mocks my affections and questions my chastity. He claims I wear makeup, like some low woman. He spits at his mother's name and all women at that. "Get yourself to a nunnery," says he, and curses me to marry a fool... Not him.

I do not understand, Laertes. He has truly gone mad. He has truly forgotten.

Father intends to listen on young Hamlet again this night after the play. He and the King seem happy with themselves. They do so delight in what has broken my heart, don't they?

Affectionately,

Ophelia