![\"LEGO](\"http:\/\/www.futurerulerofmidgard.com\/legohamlet\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/lego-hamlet-a1s2-1.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nKING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,– KING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> LAERTES<\/strong> KING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> LORD POLONIUS<\/strong> KING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> Enter Hamlet<\/em><\/p>\n QUEEN GERTRUDE<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> KING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> KING CLAUDIUS<\/strong> Exit all but HAMLET<\/em><\/p>\n Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden, Enter HORATIA, MARCELLA, and BERNARDA<\/em><\/p>\n HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> MARCELLA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> MARCELLA BERNARDA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> MARCELLA, BERNARDA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> MARCELLA, BERNARDA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> MARCELLA, BERNARDA<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HORATIA<\/strong> HAMLET<\/strong> Exeunt all but HAMLET<\/em><\/p>\n Exit<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nTherefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
\nThe imperial jointress to this warlike state,
\nHave we, as ’twere with a defeated joy,–
\nWith an auspicious and a dropping eye,
\nWith mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
\nIn equal scale weighing delight and dole,–
\nTaken to wife: nor have we herein barr’d
\nYour better wisdoms, which have freely gone
\nWith this affair along. For all, our thanks.
\nNow follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
\nHolding a weak supposal of our worth,
\nOr thinking by our late dear brother’s death
\nOur state to be disjoint and out of frame,
\nColleagued with the dream of his advantage,
\nHe hath not fail’d to pester us with message,
\nImporting the surrender of those lands
\nLost by his father, with all bonds of law,
\nTo our most valiant brother. So much for him.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nWho, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
\nOf this his nephew’s purpose,–to suppress
\nHis further gait herein; in that the levies,
\nThe lists and full proportions, are all made
\nOut of his subject: and we here dispatch
\nYou, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
\nFor bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
\nGiving to you no further personal power
\nTo business with the king, more than the scope
\nOf these delated articles allow.
\nFarewell, and let your haste commend your duty.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nAnd now, Laertes, what’s the news with you?
\nYou told us of some suit; what is’t, Laertes?
\nYou cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
\nAnd loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
\nThat shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
\nThe head is not more native to the heart,
\nThe hand more instrumental to the mouth,
\nThan is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
\nWhat wouldst thou have, Laertes?<\/p>\n
\nMy dread lord,
\nYour leave and favour to return to France;
\nFrom whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
\nTo show my duty in your coronation,
\nYet now, I must confess, that duty done,
\nMy thoughts and wishes bend again toward France
\nAnd bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.<\/p>\n
\nHave you your father’s leave? What says Polonius?<\/p>\n
\nHe hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
\nBy laboursome petition, and at last
\nUpon his will I seal’d my hard consent:
\nI do beseech you, give him leave to go.<\/p>\n
\nTake thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
\nAnd thy best graces spend it at thy will!<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nGood Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
\nAnd let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
\nDo not for ever with thy vailed lids
\nSeek for thy noble father in the dust:<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nNor windy suspiration of forced breath,
\nNo, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
\nNor the dejected ‘havior of the visage,
\nTogether with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
\nThat can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
\nFor they are actions that a man might play:
\nBut I have that within which passeth show;
\nThese but the trappings and the suits of woe.<\/p>\n
\n‘Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
\nTo give these mourning duties to your father:
\nBut, you must know, your father lost a father;
\nThat father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
\nIn filial obligation for some term
\nTo do obsequious sorrow: but to persever
\nIn obstinate condolement is a course
\nOf impious stubbornness; ’tis unmanly grief;
\nIt shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
\nA heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
\nAn understanding simple and unschool’d:
\nFor what we know must be and is as common
\nAs any the most vulgar thing to sense,
\nWhy should we in our peevish opposition
\nTake it to heart? Fie! ’tis a fault to heaven,
\nA fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
\nTo reason most absurd: whose common theme
\nIs death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
\nFrom the first corse till he that died to-day,
\n‘This must be so.’ We pray you, throw to earth
\nThis unprevailing woe, and think of us
\nAs of a father: for let the world take note,
\nYou are the most immediate to our throne;
\nAnd with no less nobility of love
\nThan that which dearest father bears his son,<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nThis gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
\nSits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
\nNo jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
\nBut the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
\nAnd the king’s rouse the heavens all bruit again,
\nRe-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nThat grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
\nPossess it merely. That it should come to this!<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nThe same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.<\/p>\n
\nSir, my good friend; I’ll change that name with you:
\nAnd what make you from Wittenberg, Horatia? Marcella?<\/p>\n
\nMy good lord–<\/p>\n
\nI am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.
\nBut what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?<\/p>\n
\nA truant disposition, good my lord.<\/p>\n
\nI would not hear your enemy say so,
\nNor shall you do mine ear that violence,
\nTo make it truster of your own report
\nAgainst yourself: I know you are no truant.
\nBut what is your affair in Elsinore?
\nWe’ll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nWould I had met my dearest foe in heaven
\nOr ever I had seen that day, Horatia!
\nMy father!–methinks I see my father.<\/p>\n
\nWhere, my lord?<\/p>\n
\nIn my mind’s eye, Horatia.<\/p>\n
\nI saw him once; he was a goodly king.<\/p>\n
\nHe was a man, take him for all in all,
\nI shall not look upon his like again.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nSeason your admiration for awhile
\nWith an attent ear, till I may deliver,
\nUpon the witness of these gentlemen,
\nThis marvel to you.<\/p>\n
\nFor God’s love, let me hear.<\/p>\n
\nTwo nights together had these gentlemen,
\nMarcella and Bernarda, on their watch,
\nIn the dead vast and middle of the night,
\nBeen thus encounter’d. A figure like your father,
\nArmed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
\nAppears before them, and with solemn march
\nGoes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk’d
\nBy their oppress’d and fear-surprised eyes,
\nWithin his truncheon’s length; whilst they, distilled
\nAlmost to jelly with the act of fear,
\nStand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
\nIn dreadful secrecy impart they did;
\nAnd I with them the third night kept the watch;
\nWhere, as they had deliver’d, both in time,
\nForm of the thing, each word made true and good,
\nThe apparition comes: I knew your father;
\nThese hands are not more like.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDid you not speak to it?<\/p>\n
\nMy lord, I did;
\nBut answer made it none: yet once methought
\nIt lifted up its head and did address
\nItself to motion, like as it would speak;
\nBut even then the morning cock crew loud,
\nAnd at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
\nAnd vanish’d from our sight.<\/p>\n
\n‘Tis very strange.<\/p>\n
\nAs I do live, my honour’d lord, ’tis true;
\nAnd we did think it writ down in our duty
\nTo let you know of it.<\/p>\n
\nIndeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
\nHold you the watch to-night?<\/p>\n
\nWe do, my lord.<\/p>\n
\nArm’d, say you?<\/p>\n
\nArm’d, my lord.<\/p>\n
\nFrom top to toe?<\/p>\n
\nMy lord, from head to foot.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nI would I had been there.<\/p>\n
\nIt would have much amazed you.<\/p>\n
\nVery like, very like. Stay’d it long?<\/p>\n
\nWhile one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.<\/p>\n
\nLonger, longer.<\/p>\n
\nNot when I saw’t.<\/p>\n
\nHis beard was grizzled–no?<\/p>\n
\nIt was, as I have seen it in his life,
\nA sable silver’d.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nI warrant it will.<\/p>\n
\nIf it assume my noble father’s person,
\nI’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
\nAnd bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
\nIf you have hitherto conceal’d this sight,
\nLet it be tenable in your silence still;
\nAnd whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
\nGive it an understanding, but no tongue:
\nI will requite your loves.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n