No Fear Shakespeare
Hamlet
Get this No Fear to go!
Act 1, Scene 5, Page 2
Original Text |
Modern Text |
|
|
20 |
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part
And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fearful porpentine.
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love—
|
make your eyes jump out of their sockets, and your hair stand on
end like porcupine quills. But mortals like you aren’t
allowed to hear this description of the afterlife. Listen, listen!
If you ever loved your poor dear father—
|
|
HAMLET
O God!
|
HAMLET
Oh God!
|
|
|
25 |
GHOST
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
|
GHOST
Take revenge for his horrible murder, that crime against
nature.
|
|
HAMLET
Murder?
|
HAMLET
Murder?
|
|
|
|
GHOST
Murder most foul, as in the best it is.
But this most foul, strange and unnatural.
|
GHOST
His most horrible murder. Murder’s always horrible, but
this one was especially horrible, weird, and unnatural.
|
|
30 |
HAMLET
Haste me to know ’t, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love,
May sweep to my revenge.
|
HAMLET
Hurry and tell me about it, so I can take revenge right away,
faster than a person falls in love.
|
|
35 40 |
GHOST
I find thee apt,
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.
'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forgèd process of my death
Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown.
|
GHOST
I’m glad you’re eager. You’d have
to be as lazy as a weed on the shores of Lethe not to get riled up here. Now listen, Hamlet. Everyone was
told that a poisonous snake bit me when I was sleeping in the
orchard. But in fact, that’s a lie that’s
fooled everyone in Denmark. You should know, my noble son, the real
snake that stung your father is now wearing his crown.
|
|
HAMLET
O my prophetic soul! My uncle?
|
HAMLET
I knew it! My uncle?
|
