Chapter One: Hamlet
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<Chapter One: Hamlet>

•1801•

"Oh, Bessie! It bereaves my precious heart to comprehend the purpose for which the King of Denmark put his son through so much trouble to seek vengeance of his brother, Claudius for being the perpetrator of his sudden demise," said Beth, the younger Miss Blythe, second only to her elder sister, Louisa whom everyone considered the most beautiful, except one. 

She had just directed her question to a much older companion, who happened to be the sole housekeeper of the Blythe's household.

"Lady Beth, you trouble my weary mind with so much nonsense talk. Who is the king of Denmark and who is his brother, Claudius?" said Bessie as she dropped the wooden dishes she was busy with, in the kitchen to answer the youngest lady of the house who had just made an entrance to the arena, to cheer her up for company.

Bessie had served the Blythe's family from when Beth was adopted, or so it seemed, as narrated by her masters. 

The master and wife of the house brought home a baby one day so pale and tiny that the master feared that she had a terminal illness and would die in a matter of days. Then said his wife to him as a clever scheme crept up her sleeves, "Come now dear, lest we be held accountable for the death of this twine-like creature, and our kindness be repaid for evil." Her spouse had an expression of worry and concern in his countenance no doubt, and he decided to hear what his wife had to say. "What say you? Should we return it to where we picked it up?"

"Not so, my dear. We shall not. I have a suggestion, and it would excuse us from blame..." 

So, the witty suggestion of the master's wife prompted the services of a maid to be applied to cater for the young one so that if peradventure it died, it would be put to the negligence of her caregiver, who in this case was Bessie. However, the child lived and grew into a fine woman with exceptional features; her name—Elizabeth.

The expression of dullness on the young maiden's face was a countenance practically misused by her in Bessie's opinion. 

Glancing at the maiden's pair of naturally arched eyebrows (neatly done as Bessie described it) which looked down on her long sweeping eyelashes, as she looked to the floor in utter sadness, Bessie spoke again but this time scoldingly because she soon figured out the reason for Beth's sullen countenance.

"Milady, have you been reading again?" Asked Bessie before letting out a hearty laughter that offended her companion in no particular manner.

"Oh yes indeed! I have, my dear Bessie. But I am sad about the book," said Beth.

"You should desist from having to read books that make you sad," said Bessie.

Walking closer to render some assistance in doing the dishes, Beth smiled into a smirk as she got her reply ready for Bessie. 

"You know, Bessie. Except for two things in this house that keep me happy, studying many books and lately, Mr Pickle, my existence would have been damaged."

"Shush, milady. Don't utter such careless words. You have a family that keeps you. Not many of us have that luck. And I have shown you the love of a mother these long years. Does that count for nothing?" said Bessie as she hardened her facials into a frown, the kind that made Beth feel guilty of her actions. 

With soap in her hands, she reached for and hugged Bessie while shutting her Eden-green eyes as she spoke. 

"Oh, Bessie! I am not the least bit grateful for having you in my life. I have not known much gratitude for living as you have shown me."

Smiling to reveal her brown set of teeth, Bessie pat her hands which were twirled about her for a few seconds past now. The maiden was taller than her. Having her close always reminded Bessie how much the young 'un had grown. 

"Stop now, child. We don't want your sister or the kind master, your father, walking in on us. We should not be this close."

"You are right, Bessie. But it is easier to break the house rules for your sake."

"Thank you, milady. You are indeed kind."

"Am I?" Beth spared a half of a second to remember something before speaking, "Still, the King of Denmark should not have troubled his son, Hamlet from the spirit world to have him avenge his death."

Reluctantly, Bessie spoke, "Okay, milady. Tell me about your book. But make it brief. I have to get lunch ready early enough." This, Bessie had said because she knew that Elizabeth would forever taunt her until she let her narrate the book she had read, as reading was Beth's daily bread. 

An excited Beth narrated everything with purposeful glee, stating her opinions in-between brief pauses, until Bessie who had neither seen nor read the book "Hamlet", understood Shakespeare's purpose for writing it. 

"And in the end, everyone died. But, I was touched by Ophelia's death the most. She died in the most pitiful way. It is sad! Love is indeed a very strenuous topic to venture."

"Hahaha, come now milady. Don't be silly."

"But I am not. I will never want to bother about it." Beth declared. 

"Nonsense, you are ripe and will soon be entrusted to a kind gentleman within the town, befitting enough in the eyes of your father."

"Then I shall dread such a day when it befalls me."

"It is not something to be dreadful of. It is nature. Don't spew such nonsense."

"Hm, I better go care for Mr Pickle and see if he is hungry. Of which he should be by now."

Thus, Beth excused herself. 

'The young lady better stop reading such books that contradict love. She is due to be sent to her own home and save herself from further dependence on the Blythe's,' Bessie thought. 

Beth made it to her room in no time, and got to sit on a slender chair in front of her rabbit pet, Mr Pickle which was on the table before her. 

"Now, now dear! Have you been a good good rabbit? Here! Have some fruit for being a good boy." Thus, she handed diced carrots she had gotten from the kitchen, to the little creature in the tiny handmade cage. The kind carpenter, Mr Laertes had helped her with it. 

A few seconds later, what happened caused Beth to become ice-frozen. 

"Aargh!! Mother!! There is a monster in our home!!" The squeaky feminine voice had sounded louder than the bullhorn of the Town's Crier which he used to get information quicker to the inhabitants of Griffinwald.

Startled, Beth knew whose voice it was even before she turned around to see for herself. 

"Louisa?! Wh-what are you doing here?!" Her Eden-green eyes revealed one emotion, the kind they reflected whenever she got in trouble; horrid fear. 

"You have a beast in your room, Beth," her sister said fiercely, "Mother and father need to be told of this foul thing that you have done." With those determined words, Louisa excused herself from her sister's presence running about like a mad woman, screaming hysterically as she went on. 

"Mother! Father! We are not safe! Beth wants us dead!" was her report to her mother who was adorned in semi-rich fabric, seated on her favourite armed-chair with shoulders propped up also pulling herself subtly forward to give her the charisma of nobility. 

The report that she had just heard from her daughter startled her, and she rose at once.  But, her husband sat still. 

"My dear, did you not hear your daughter's report?"

"I did, but we both know how expressive our dear Louisa can be."

"Not now, my dear. I keep saying you have just as much love to share between the two girls. As for Beth, we are giving her enough as it is. Now, don't worry my poor nerves. Your actions have strained them enough off late."

"Hahaha, nonsense my dear. Your nerves have always been torn apart from the very second I saw you. I wouldn't take them any seriously if they did now."

Mr Blythe was a man of character and rigid principles, anyone who ever thought they could study him had no idea what they were saying when even his wife never understood his current mood or the next for the twenty something years of living together as man and wife. 

"So, if I am correct my nerves do not matter to you?" asked Mrs Blythe. 

"They always did but not when it is a disguised manipulation."

At her father's last comments, Louisa burst into tears feeling spited by her father. 

"You have angered her sorely," his wife said to him before turning to pamper her daughter by caressing her long golden brown hair, the same kind she had herself. 

"A grown woman like herself who could be sent for by a notable gentleman should not be this quick to let loose."

"Let loose? You treat her complaints as nothing and still blame her for crying. What a father you are!" she said looking at her husband sternly, while her daughter's sob had started dying down. 

"Wipe your tears, my dear Louisa and tell me what manner of beast you beheld in your younger sister's room."

"I-it was a rabbit, Papa. A giant rabbit."

"A rabbit?!" Both her parents exclaimed at the same time. 

"Yes mother," Louisa replied her mother staring into her hazel brown eyes which she had also inherited from her.

Back in Elizabeth's room, she paced back and forth, wiping off the sheens of sweat which trickled down her face every now and then. Also finding very little comfort in the simple silk dress she had worn, she hoped that Mr Pickle would not be picked on, by her family. 

"Oh God, what do I do now?"

Do you fancy Elizabeth? How do you perceive the Blythes? Do you like Bessie? Why?
  • Eliza is loveable and beautiful. I love her
  • Mr Blythe is not firm in decision taking
  • Mrs Blythe is witty and subtly wicked.
  • Louisa was over pampered and is a cry baby
  • I like Bessie. Because she is kind and a true friend and companion to Elizabeth
  • I don't like Bessie because she is too indulgent in the Blythe's affairs.
  • I don't fancy Elizabeth because she is not firm
  • Bessie speaks to Elizabeth without respect. Her behavior is totally unacceptable
  • I like Bessie because she has a pure heart
  • I fancy Elizabeth because she is well-read
Total voters: 0 · This poll was closed on May 16, 2021 07:57 PM.
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