SCENE: A well-appointed bedchamber, late at night. Lit torches line the walls, and two Elizabethans, both in their nightclothes, stand at the door. ROSENCRANTZ (hereafter ROS) is holding the door open for GUILDENSTERN (hereafter GUIL). GUIL enters, and as they greet each other, they move to sit down in two chairs, placed close together next to a small table.
GUIL: You’ve summoned me late, dear Rosencrantz, what is it you wish to say? Have you a plea? A confession?
ROS: Confessions? Confessions, sir, I have them, yes, and many. I would confess to you, if only you would hear me.
GUIL: I would hear whatever you wish to tell me.
ROS: Anything?
GUIL: Perhaps not anything, tell me first and then I shall say whether I wish to hear it.
ROS: There is no sense or wisdom in your words.
GUIL: There seldom is in matters of the heart.
ROS: Do you suppose this is, then?
GUIL: A matter of the heart?
ROS: Yes.
GUIL: Yes.
ROS: Well.
GUIL: Well?
ROS: You would hear my confessions?
GUIL: If only you would say them.
ROS: I will.
GUIL: I await.
ROS: Well.
GUIL: Am I to wait longer?
ROS: The day grows late.
GUIL: It does, yes.
ROS: Perhaps the hour to confess has passed.
GUIL: Has it?
ROS: Perhaps.
GUIL: (tentatively) Tomorrow, then?
ROS: Not tomorrow, nor the next day, nor the next.
GUIL: You lead me on and leave me wanting, dear Rosencrantz.
ROS: What is it you want?
GUIL: A confession, if you would.
ROS: What shall I confess?
GUIL: Anything you wish.
ROS: What if I do confess, and then find you did not wish to hear it?
GUIL: It will not be the first time, and surely not the last.
ROS: Your words bring no peace to my fevered mind.
GUIL: Your mind?
ROS: My heart.
GUIL: So it is a matter of the heart?
ROS: Have we not already confirmed it as such?
GUIL: I am merely clarifying.
ROS: It is indeed a matter of the heart, and perhaps that is why I cannot seem to find the words.
GUIL: Perhaps it is not words that you seek.
ROS: Perhaps.
ROS pauses pensively, then rises from his chair and kisses GUIL firmly. He sits back down.
GUIL: Are you trying to quiet me, sir?
ROS: I am trying to confess, that is all.
GUIL: And was that what you wished to confess?
ROS: It was.
GUIL looks thoughtful.
ROS: Speak, dear Guildenstern. Was my confession unclear?
GUIL: Your confession was clear, your intentions are not.
ROS: My intentions? I have them. Is that not clear enough?
GUIL: But intentions to what?
ROS: I intend to wait until you have made a confession of your own.
GUIL: What would you wish me to confess?
ROS: Whatever you wish, so long as you forego words.
GUIL: And what of my lips?
ROS: You may use those; in fact, I am entirely in favor of it.
GUIL: I see.
ROS: I rather wish you would act.
GUIL regards ROS for a moment, then stands and kisses him in turn.
ROS: Was that your confession?
GUIL: It was a kiss.
ROS (points to the bed): That is a bed.
GUIL (looks): So it is.
ROS: If I’m going to confess again, I’d rather it be in comfort.
GUIL: Do you plan to confess again?
ROS: All night.
GUIL: You must have much to confess.
As they speak, they move toward the bed.
ROS: I do.
GUIL: I will listen.
ROS: Guildenstern?
GUIL: Yes?
ROS: Do be quiet.
GUIL: Right.
End scene.