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Modern English
So much for this, sir. Now let me see the other; You do remember all the circumstance?
That’s enough of that, sir. Now let’s look at the other; Do you remember all the details?
Remember it, my lord!
Remember it, my lord!
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay Worse than the mutinies in the bilboes. Rashly, And prais’d be rashness for it,—let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well, When our deep plots do pall; and that should teach us There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of struggle That wouldn’t let me sleep. I thought I was lying Worse than being trapped in the stocks. Foolishly, And thank goodness for that foolishness,—let’s face it, Sometimes our mistakes help us out, When our deep plans start to fail; and that should teach us There’s a higher power that shapes our fate, No matter how roughly we try to make it happen.
That is most certain.
That is definitely true.
Up from my cabin, My sea-gown scarf’d about me, in the dark Grop’d I to find out them; had my desire, Finger’d their packet, and in fine, withdrew To mine own room again, making so bold, My fears forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio, Oh royal knavery! an exact command, Larded with many several sorts of reasons, Importing Denmark’s health, and England’s too, With ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, That on the supervise, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My head should be struck off.
I got up from my cabin, My sea-coat wrapped around me, in the dark I groped around to find them; I got what I wanted, Handled their letter, and finally went back To my room, acting so boldly, Forgetting my manners in my fear, to open Their important letter; where I found, Horatio, Oh what a royal trickery! an exact order, Filled with all kinds of reasons, Talking about Denmark’s well-being, and England’s too, With "ho!" such terrible threats in my life, That immediately, with no time for delay, Not even pausing to sharpen the axe, My head would be cut off.
Is’t possible?
Is that possible?
Here’s the commission, read it at more leisure. But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?
Here’s the letter, read it when you have more time. But do you want to hear how I handled it?
I beseech you.
Please, my lord.
Being thus benetted round with villanies,— Or I could make a prologue to my brains, They had begun the play,—I sat me down, Devis’d a new commission, wrote it fair: I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour’d much How to forget that learning; but, sir, now It did me yeoman’s service. Wilt thou know The effect of what I wrote?
Surrounded by treachery,— Or I could tell the story of my thoughts, They had already started the play,—I sat down, Wrote a new letter, copied it out neatly: I once thought, like our politicians do, It was beneath me to write neatly, and I worked hard To forget that habit; but, sir, now It served me very well. Would you like to know What I wrote?
Ay, good my lord.
Yes, please, my lord.
An earnest conjuration from the King, As England was his faithful tributary, As love between them like the palm might flourish, As peace should still her wheaten garland wear And stand a comma’tween their amities, And many such-like‘as’es of great charge, That on the view and know of these contents, Without debatement further, more or less, He should the bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving-time allow’d.
A serious plea from the King, As England was his loyal subject, As the friendship between them could grow like a palm tree, As peace should always wear its wheat crown And stand as a symbol between their alliances, And many other similar statements of great importance, That when the bearers of this message saw these contents, Without any further discussion, more or less, They should be put to immediate death, Without time to confess.
How was this seal’d?
How was this sealed?
Why, even in that was heaven ordinant. I had my father’s signet in my purse, Which was the model of that Danish seal: Folded the writ up in the form of the other, Subscrib’d it: gave’t th’impression; plac’d it safely, The changeling never known. Now, the next day Was our sea-fight, and what to this was sequent Thou know’st already.
Well, even that was planned by heaven. I had my father’s signet in my pocket, Which was the same as the Danish royal seal: I folded up the letter just like the other one, Signed it, stamped it with the seal, and placed it safely, So no one knew about the switch. The next day Was our sea battle, and what happened after that, You already know.
So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to’t.
So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz went along with it.
Why, man, they did make love to this employment. They are not near my conscience; their defeat Does by their own insinuation grow. ’Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes Between the pass and fell incensed points Of mighty opposites.
Well, man, they really were eager for this task. They don’t bother me at all; their downfall Is the result of their own scheming. It’s dangerous when the lower kinds of people get In the way of powerful, angry forces Who are enemies.
Why, what a king is this!
What kind of king is this?!
Does it not, thinks’t thee, stand me now upon,— He that hath kill’d my king, and whor’d my mother, Popp’d in between th’election and my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such cozenage—is’t not perfect conscience To quit him with this arm? And is’t not to be damn’d To let this canker of our nature come In further evil?
Doesn’t it make you wonder?— He killed my king, and corrupted my mother, Stuck himself between my rightful claim and my hopes, Tried to take my life for himself, And with such trickery—isn’t it only right That I should end him with my own hand? And wouldn’t it be a sin To let this rot in our nature spread And make things even worse?
It must be shortly known to him from England What is the issue of the business there.
Soon, we’ll hear from England What the outcome is over there.
It will be short. The interim is mine; And a man’s life’s no more than to say‘One’. But I am very sorry, good Horatio, That to Laertes I forgot myself; For by the image of my cause I see The portraiture of his. I’ll court his favours. But sure the bravery of his grief did put me Into a tow’ring passion.
It won’t take long. The wait is mine; And a man’s life is no more than the time it takes to say “One.” But I’m truly sorry, good Horatio, That I lost my temper with Laertes; Because when I think about my own cause, I see the same passion in him. I’ll try to win his favor. But his grief really did ignite a fury in me.
Peace, who comes here?
Quiet, who’s that coming?
.
.
Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
Your lordship is very welcome back to Denmark.
I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this waterfly?
Thank you, sir. Do you know this fop?
No, my good lord.
No, my lord.
Thy state is the more gracious; for’tis a vice to know him. He hath much land, and fertile; let a beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the king’s mess;’tis a chough; but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
You’re better off not knowing him. He’s a fool, but rich and land-owning; let a fool rule the animals, and his stable will be at the king’s table; he’s a jackdaw, but as I said, he’s got plenty of dirt to call his own.
Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his Majesty.
My lord, if you have a moment, I have something to tell you from his Majesty.
I will receive it with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use;’tis for the head.
I’ll listen with all the attention I can give. Put your hat on properly; it’s for your head.
I thank your lordship,’tis very hot.
I thank you, my lord, it’s really hot.
No, believe me,’tis very cold, the wind is northerly.
No, trust me, it’s really cold, the wind is coming from the north.
It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
It’s fairly cold, my lord, truly.
Methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
I think it’s very warm and hot for my skin tone.
Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,—as’twere—I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his Majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter,—
Extremely, my lord; it’s very hot,—that is,—I can’t really explain. But, my lord, the king asked me to tell you that he’s made a big bet on you. Sir, here’s the thing,—
I beseech you, remember,—
I beg you, remember,—
Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith. Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences, of very soft society and great showing. Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar of gentry; for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.
No, really, for my own comfort, honestly. Sir, Laertes has just arrived at court; believe me, he’s a true gentleman, full of many excellent qualities, very easy to socialize with, and a great show-off. Really, to speak honestly about him, he’s the very model of nobility; you’ll find in him everything a gentleman should be.
Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know, to divide him inventorially would dizzy th’arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror and who else would trace him his umbrage, nothing more.
Sir, your description of him does him no harm, though I know, to list all his qualities would make your memory dizzy, and still not cover it all, considering his swift abilities. But, truly, in terms of praise, I consider him a man of great substance, and his rarity and worth are such that, to describe him properly, his equal is his own reflection, and anyone else who tries to compare him is nothing.
Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
Your lordship speaks absolutely correctly about him.
The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath?
What’s the matter, sir? Why do we speak so highly of this gentleman?
Sir?
Sir?
Is’t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will do’t, sir, really.
Can’t we understand this in another way? You’re doing it, sir, really.
What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
What’s the point of mentioning this gentleman?
Of Laertes?
Laertes?
His purse is empty already, all’s golden words are spent.
His wallet’s already empty, all his fine words are spent.
Of him, sir.
About him, sir.
I know you are not ignorant,—
I know you’re not clueless,—
I would you did, sir; yet in faith if you did, it would not much approve me. Well, sir?
I wish you were, sir; but honestly, if you were, it wouldn’t make me look much better. So, sir?
You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is,—
You’re not unaware of Laertes’ skill,—
I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.
I wouldn’t admit to that, in case I’m seen as his equal in skill; but to truly know a man is to know himself.
I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him, by them in his meed he’s unfellowed.
I mean, sir, his weapon; but in the honor he’s been given, no one matches him.
What’s his weapon?
What’s his weapon?
Rapier and dagger.
A rapier and dagger.
That’s two of his weapons. But well.
That’s two of his weapons. But alright.
The King, sir, hath wager’d with him six Barbary horses, against the which he has imponed, as I take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so. Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.
The King, sir, has bet six Barbary horses against which he’s put up, as I understand, six French rapiers and daggers, with their accessories, like belts, hangers, and so on. Three of the handles, really, are quite fancy, very responsive to the grips, really fine handles, and of very high quality.
What call you the carriages?
What do you mean by "handles"?
I knew you must be edified by the margin ere you had done.
I knew you’d need an explanation before you were done.
The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
The "handles," sir, are the hangers.
The phrase would be more german to the matter if we could carry cannon by our sides. I would it might be hangers till then. But on. Six Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three liberal conceited carriages: that’s the French bet against the Danish. Why is this all imponed, as you call it?
The wording would make more sense if we could carry cannons by our sides. I wish they could be just hangers until then. But go on. Six Barbary horses against six French swords, their accessories, and three fine handles: that’s the French bet against the Danes. Why is all this put up, as you say?
The King, sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes between you and him, he shall not exceed you three hits. He hath laid on twelve for nine. And it would come to immediate trial if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
The King, sir, has made a wager that in twelve rounds between you and him, Laertes won’t land more than three hits on you. He’s betting twelve for nine. And it’ll be decided right away if you’ll accept the challenge.
How if I answer no?
What if I say no?
I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
What I mean, my lord, is your participation in the duel.
Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his Majesty, it is the breathing time of day with me. Let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
Sir, I will walk around here in the hall. If it pleases the King, it’s the best time of day for me to rest. Bring the swords, and if the gentleman is willing and the King sticks to his plan, I will win for him if I can; if not, I’ll only gain my shame and some random hits.
Shall I re-deliver you e’en so?
Should I repeat that back to you, just like that?
To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
Yes, exactly, sir; whatever style you prefer.
I commend my duty to your lordship.
I send my respects to you, my lord.
Yours, yours.
Yours as well.
He does well to commend it himself, there are no tongues else for’s turn.
He does well to praise himself; there’s no one else around to do it for him.
This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
This fool thinks he’s something special, but he’s just wearing a silly hat.
He did comply with his dug before he suck’d it. Thus has he,—and many more of the same bevy that I know the drossy age dotes on,—only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of yeasty collection, which carries them through and through the most fanned and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out,
He went along with things before he even understood them. This is how it goes—many others like him, whom I know this foolish age admires—only have the right look and style for the moment; they’re just a mix of superficial traits, which get them through popular opinions. But when they’re tested, they’re nothing but bubbles.
.
.
My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in the hall. He sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes or that you will take longer time.
My lord, the King sent his regards through young Osric, who tells me that you are to meet him in the hall. He asks whether you still wish to duel with Laertes or if you need more time.
I am constant to my purposes, they follow the King’s pleasure. If his fitness speaks, mine is ready. Now or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.
I’m sticking to my plan, which aligns with the King’s wishes. If I’m ready, then so is my purpose. Now or whenever, as long as I’m able to do it as I am now.
The King and Queen and all are coming down.
The King, Queen, and everyone are coming down.
In happy time.
Good timing.
The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.
The Queen would like you to be polite to Laertes before you start the match.
She well instructs me.
She teaches me well.
You will lose this wager, my lord.
You’re going to lose this bet, my lord.
I do not think so. Since he went into France, I have been in continual practice. I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all’s here about my heart: but it is no matter.
I don’t think so. Since he went to France, I’ve been practicing nonstop. I’ll win, even with the odds against me. But you wouldn’t believe how bad I feel inside: but it doesn’t matter.
Nay, good my lord.
Please, my lord.
It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman.
It’s just foolishness; but it’s the kind of thing that might trouble a woman.
If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their repair hither, and say you are not fit.
If you feel uneasy about anything, follow that feeling. I’ll go ahead and tell them you’re not well enough to continue.
Not a whit, we defy augury. There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,’tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all. Since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is’t to leave betimes?
Not at all, we defy fate. There’s something special about the fall of a sparrow. If it’s meant to happen now, it will; if not now, it will happen later; and if it’s not later, it will still come. What matters is being ready. Since no one can take anything with them when they die, why should we worry about leaving things behind?
Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
Come, Hamlet, take my hand.
Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong; But pardon’t as you are a gentleman. This presence knows, and you must needs have heard, How I am punish’d with sore distraction. What I have done That might your nature, honour, and exception Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness. Was’t Hamlet wrong’d Laertes? Never Hamlet. If Hamlet from himself be ta’en away, And when he’s not himself does wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it. Who does it, then? His madness. If’t be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong’d; His madness is poor Hamlet’s enemy. Sir, in this audience, Let my disclaiming from a purpos’d evil Free me so far in your most generous thoughts That I have shot my arrow o’er the house And hurt my brother.
Forgive me, sir. I’ve wronged you; But forgive me as a gentleman. You know, and must have heard, How deeply troubled I am. What I’ve done That might make you upset, angry, or disappointed, I now declare was madness. Did Hamlet wrong Laertes? Never Hamlet. If Hamlet is not himself, and when he’s not himself does wrong to Laertes, Then Hamlet didn’t do it, his madness did. Who did it, then? His madness. If that’s the case, Hamlet is the one wronged; His madness is his enemy. Sir, in front of everyone here, Let my disclaimer of any ill intent Clear me in your kind thoughts That I have shot my arrow past the mark And hurt my brother.
I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive in this case should stir me most To my revenge. But in my terms of honour I stand aloof, and will no reconcilement Till by some elder masters of known honour I have a voice and precedent of peace To keep my name ungor’d. But till that time I do receive your offer’d love like love, And will not wrong it.
I am satisfied with your explanation, Which should encourage me most To take my revenge. But in terms of honor, I remain distant, and I will not forgive Until I have the approval of respected authorities To make peace and keep my name untarnished. But until that time, I accept your offered love like love, And will not wrong it.
I embrace it freely, And will this brother’s wager frankly play.— Give us the foils; come on.
I accept it freely, And will play this brother’s game honestly.— Give us the swords; let’s begin.
Come, one for me.
Here, one for me.
I’ll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance Your skill shall like a star i’th’darkest night, Stick fiery off indeed.
I’ll be your foil, Laertes; in my ignorance, Your skill will shine like a star in the darkest night, Really standing out.
You mock me, sir.
You’re making fun of me, sir.
No, by this hand.
No, I swear.
Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet, You know the wager?
Give them the swords, young Osric. Hamlet, my cousin, You know the bet?
Very well, my lord. Your Grace has laid the odds o’the weaker side.
Yes, my lord. You’ve stacked the odds in favor of the weaker side.
I do not fear it. I have seen you both; But since he is better’d, we have therefore odds.
I’m not worried about it. I’ve seen both of you fight; But since he’s improved, we have the advantage.
This is too heavy. Let me see another.
This one’s too heavy. Let me try another.
This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
I like this one. These swords are all the same length?
Ay, my good lord.
Yes, my lord.
Set me the stoups of wine upon that table. If Hamlet give the first or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the battlements their ordnance fire; The King shall drink to Hamlet’s better breath, And in the cup an union shall he throw Richer than that which four successive kings In Denmark’s crown have worn. Give me the cups; And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, The trumpet to the cannoneer without, The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth, ‘Now the King drinks to Hamlet.’Come, begin. And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
Place the wine cups on that table. If Hamlet lands the first or second hit, Or if he answers the third exchange, Let all the cannons on the battlements fire; The King will drink to Hamlet’s victory, And throw into the cup a gem More valuable than the jewels worn by four successive kings In Denmark’s crown. Give me the cups; And let the kettle signal the trumpet, The trumpet to the cannon outside, The cannon to the heavens, the heavens to the earth, ‘Now the King drinks to Hamlet.’ Let’s begin. And you, the judges, watch carefully.
Come on, sir.
Let’s go, sir.
Come, my lord.
Come on, my lord.
One.
One.
No.
No.
Judgment.
That’s a point.
A hit, a very palpable hit.
That’s a hit, a solid hit.
Well; again.
Alright; let’s go again.
Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; Here’s to thy health.
Wait, let me have a drink. Hamlet, this pearl is yours; Here’s to your health.
Give him the cup.
Give him the cup.
I’ll play this bout first; set it by awhile.
I’ll finish this round first; set it aside for a moment.
Come. Another hit; what say you?
Come on. Another hit; what do you say?
A touch, a touch, I do confess.
A light touch, I admit.
Our son shall win.
Our son will win.
He’s fat, and scant of breath. Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows. The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
He’s out of shape, and short of breath. Here, Hamlet, take my napkin and wipe your forehead. The Queen drinks to your success, Hamlet.
Good madam.
Thank you, madam.
Gertrude, do not drink.
Gertrude, don’t drink.
I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me.
I will, my lord; please forgive me.
[
] It’s the poisoned cup; it’s too late now.
] It is the poison’d cup; it is too late.
] It’s the poisoned cup; it’s too late now.
I dare not drink yet, madam. By and by.
I can’t drink yet, madam. In a moment.
Come, let me wipe thy face.
Come, let me clean your face.
My lord, I’ll hit him now.
My lord, I’m going to hit him now.
I do not think’t.
I don’t think so.
[
] But still, it almost goes against my conscience.
] And yet’tis almost’gainst my conscience.
] But still, it almost goes against my conscience.
Come for the third, Laertes. You do but dally. I pray you pass with your best violence. I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
Come on for the third, Laertes. You’re just stalling. I beg you, do it with all your might. I’m afraid you’re just toying with me.
Say you so? Come on.
Is that so? Alright, here we go.
Nothing neither way.
It’s a draw, neither of you has won yet.
Have at you now.
Take this, now.
Part them; they are incens’d.
Stop them; they’re too angry.
Nay, come again!
No, come back and fight again!
Look to the Queen there, ho!
Someone help the Queen!
They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
They’re both bleeding. How are you, my lord?
How is’t, Laertes?
How are you doing, Laertes?
Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric. I am justly kill’d with mine own treachery.
Like a fool caught in my own trap, Osric. I’ve been killed by my own treachery.
How does the Queen?
How is the Queen?
She swoons to see them bleed.
She faints when she sees them bleeding.
No, no, the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet! The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.
No, no, it’s the drink, the drink! Oh, my dear Hamlet! The drink, the drink! I’ve been poisoned.
O villany! Ho! Let the door be lock’d: Treachery! Seek it out.
Oh, what evil! Hey! Lock the door: Treachery! Find out who did this.
It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain. No medicine in the world can do thee good. In thee there is not half an hour of life; The treacherous instrument is in thy hand, Unbated and envenom’d. The foul practice Hath turn’d itself on me. Lo, here I lie, Never to rise again. Thy mother’s poison’d. I can no more. The King, the King’s to blame.
It’s over, Hamlet. Hamlet, you’re dead. No medicine in the world can save you. You have less than half an hour left to live; The poisoned weapon is in your hand, Still deadly and full of poison. The evil plot Has turned against me. Look, here I lie, Never to rise again. Your mother’s poisoned. I can’t do any more. The King is to blame.
The point envenom’d too! Then, venom, to thy work.
The tip is poisoned too! Then let the poison do its work.
Treason! treason!
Treason! Treason!
O yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt.
Oh, please defend me, friends. I’m only wounded.
Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother.
Here, you incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink this poison. Is your marriage here? Follow my mother.
He is justly serv’d. It is a poison temper’d by himself. Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. Mine and my father’s death come not upon thee, Nor thine on me.
He got what he deserved. It’s a poison made by his own hand. Forgive me, noble Hamlet. Let my death and my father’s death not fall on you, Nor yours on me.
Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched Queen, adieu. You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time,—as this fell sergeant, death, Is strict in his arrest,—O, I could tell you,— But let it be. Horatio, I am dead, Thou liv’st; report me and my cause aright To the unsatisfied.
May Heaven grant you peace! I’m coming with you. I’m dead, Horatio. Wretched Queen, goodbye. You who look pale and tremble at what’s happening, You who are only bystanders to this event, If I had time,—as this cruel officer, death, Is strict in his arrest,—Oh, I could tell you,— But let it be. Horatio, I’m dead, You’re alive; report my story and the reason for it To those who are still questioning.
Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Here’s yet some liquor left.
I’ll never believe that. I’m more like an ancient Roman than a Dane. There’s still some drink left.
As th’art a man, Give me the cup. Let go; by Heaven, I’ll have’t. O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
Since you’re a man, Hand me the cup. Let go; by Heaven, I’ll take it. Oh good Horatio, what a damaged reputation, Will live on after me, with things still unclear. If you ever held me in your heart, Stay away from happiness for a little while, And in this harsh world, breathe in pain, To tell my story.
What warlike noise is this?
What’s that noise of war in the distance?
Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, To the ambassadors of England gives This warlike volley.
Young Fortinbras, having come from Poland with victory, Sends this volley of shots to the English ambassadors.
O, I die, Horatio. The potent poison quite o’er-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England, But I do prophesy th’election lights On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice. So tell him, with the occurrents more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Oh, I’m dying, Horatio. The strong poison is completely overpowering my soul: I won’t live to hear the news from England, But I predict that the election will favor Fortinbras. He has my vote as I die. So tell him, along with the events that happened, The rest is silence.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. Why does the drum come hither?
Now a noble heart is broken. Good night, sweet prince, And may angels sing you to your rest. Why is the drum coming here?
Where is this sight?
What is this scene?
What is it you would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
What is it you want to see? If it’s anything sad or surprising, stop looking.
This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many princes at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
This battlefield cries out for destruction. Oh proud death, What kind of banquet are you preparing in your eternal home, That you’ve struck down so many princes in one blow, So brutally?
The sight is dismal; And our affairs from England come too late. The ears are senseless that should give us hearing, To tell him his commandment is fulfill’d, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Where should we have our thanks?
The scene is horrible; And our message from England comes too late. The ears that should hear our news are deaf, To tell him his orders are carried out, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Where should we show our gratitude?
Not from his mouth, Had it th’ability of life to thank you. He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you from England Are here arriv’d, give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view, And let me speak to th’yet unknowing world How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forc’d cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall’n on the inventors’heads. All this can I Truly deliver.
Not from his mouth, Even if he had the power to thank you. He never ordered their deaths. But since we’re on this bloody subject, You from the Polish wars, and you from England, Now that you’ve arrived, give the order for these bodies To be placed on a stage for all to see, And let me tell the world, still unaware, How all of this happened. Then you will hear Of violent, bloody, and unnatural deeds, Of accidental judgments, random killings, Of deaths carried out by deceit and forced reasons, And, in the end, misguided intentions Falling back on those who started it. I can Tell all of this with the truth.
Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the audience. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
Let’s hurry and hear it, And gather the most important people to listen. As for me, I sadly accept my fate. I have some claim to memory in this kingdom, And now I am invited to take advantage of it.
Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more. But let this same be presently perform’d, Even while men’s minds are wild, lest more mischance On plots and errors happen.
I’ll also have reason to speak about that, And from the one whose words will matter more. But let this be done right away, While people’s minds are still confused, so nothing worse Happens from mistakes or misunderstandings.
Let four captains Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, For he was likely, had he been put on, To have prov’d most royally; and for his passage, The soldiers’music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
Let four captains Carry Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, Because he was someone who, had he been given the chance, Would have turned out to be a true king; and for his journey, The sound of soldiers’ music and the rituals of war Speak loudly for him. Pick up the bodies. A sight like this Fits the battlefield, but here it looks out of place. Go, tell the soldiers to fire their guns.