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They’d never quarrelled, but there’s the first time for everything.
Hamlet might have done the right thing by talking (or perhaps bribing) their dormitory custodian into putting them into different rooms (even in different wings). But three days apart seemed endless and one of the pair just had to do something.
That night, he got dressed in his riding breeches (for stealth) and undershirt (the occasion was special enough to try and dress up but even in the night it was too hot that day), waited till the moon emerged from the clouds and slipped out of the room, leaving the harmonious sound of Horatio’s soft snoring behind the door.
Oh, and yes, he stole Horatio’s lute.
It would be much more romantic if his beau had a balcony, but alas, they were in dull Wittenberg and not in elegant Venice.
Having arrived under the window, he cleared his throat twice and touched the strings. He wasn’t afraid of being discovered as it was the most perfect occasion, the Town Day, and everyone, including the custodian (what a bad example for immature, susceptible minds of noble students!), slept in their rooms dead drunk.
Oh no, he thought with sudden terror. What if his dear friend was also stewed to the gills and, subsequently, deaf as a doorpost? But it couldn’t be. Such a gentle soul would never sink that low (he was sure because they’ve had a lot of drinking practice over the semester and his belamour always managed to stay sober to see everyone to their rooms without making the custodian suspicious).
So the sweetheart of our hero must have been awake and was possibly writing some sonnets (most likely, quite dirty ones). Thus, hoping that his dear one was already in a poetic mood, he touched the strings again. And then… nothing but silence. That was disappointing.
But still, there was a chance that the sound could be mistaken for a birdsong (probable) or efforts of some other wooer (doubtful). He cleared his throat again, now to put it to proper use.
“Aaaaah”, he sang. “Please, my gentle beloved, show thy face as beautiful as the Moon."
That was the moment when he realised he was not a great singer. But nevertheless, there was no response. Not even clearly expressed disapproval. It could only mean one thing: his celadon still held the grudge against him.
His heart sank. Could it be that everything was now beyond remedy? No. No. He couldn’t leave it like that.
"Hey! I only wanted to say that I'm sorry!" he cried towards the window. The cry echoed (which was strange. Stone though they were, the walls of the building were covered with ivy too thickly to create such an effect).
And still no response.
He suddenly gave up and decided not to push it. If his love didn't want to talk to him, it was better to go away and stop vexing the person already peeved with him.
He was a young man of philosophical character and would definitely make peace with himself over this entire situation, but… not today. For a minute, he considered going out of the campus to find leftovers of the festive liquor but concluded there would be none, judging by the rancid odour that was unveiling the dormitory.
So the only place left to go was to his wing of the building, then up the hefty oak stairs to his room and then to his sad, lonely bed where he would spend the rest of the night (and probably, the entire following day) face down and stoically (and metaphorically) pushing tears back under the eyelids they come from.
He got underway but only managed to pass a couple of windows until he heard men shouting. The noise was coming closer and closer until he could make out their words. That was the Town Guard looking for some offenders who were stupid enough to make their studentship obvious.
To avoid being detained as a collateral damage, he chose to hide in the bushes. Unfortunately, they were briar bushes. Fortunately, there was enough space between them and the outer campus wall to try and crawl to the back door (and then to the final destination by the route described above). Unfortunately, the bushes weren’t high enough to completely cover him standing, so he had to make his way on all fours.
Anyway, he took off and crawled safely almost up to the entrance. However, all this time he was lost in thoughts and failed to notice a squatted figure slowly making their way towards him. Apparently, this person was also oblivious of their surroundings and didn't stop (neither did our hero) until they were too close to each other. To be fair, they didn't actually stop at that moment. They simply bashed into each other. Their lutes knocked together and twanged.
"Rosencrantz?!"
"Guildenstern?!"
(That sounded more like "Ruisenstrenz?!")
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize."
"No, it's me who should apologize."
"So that's what you are doing here."
"Your deduction is accurate. But I came here first."
"We came here absolutely simultaneously."
"I meant under your window."
"Ah. Then I should dispute that. I was there first."
"There was no-one except for me. Under your window."
"Oh, of course. I meant your window."
"Glad we made it clear."
"Me too. So, I'm sorry."
"Me too."
"Glad we made it clear."
"Me too."
"Erm… Who of us has first said anything offensive?"
"I don’t remember."
"Has anyone at all?"
"I’m not sure."
And if anyone asked them later who was the first to start the kiss, they would struggle with the answer as well. But the kiss was there, no doubt.