Welcome, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Besides wanting to see you, the real reason I sent for you is practical: we need you. You've heard Hamlet has changed, and I don't just mean his mood. He's lost himself completely, and I can't figure out why—it's more than grief for his father. I'm asking you both, since you grew up with him and know him well, to stay here with us for a while. Your company might draw him out, and you might discover what's troubling him. If something is wrong that we don't understand, we can fix it.

Welcome, guys. Look, I'm not going to pretend this is just a social visit. We need your help. Hamlet's acting completely different—and I mean completely. He's not just sad; he's lost in his own head. And I can't figure out what's causing it beyond the obvious grief. Since you two know him from school, I'm asking you to stay here for a bit. Spend time with him, try to get him to open up. See if you can figure out what's going on. If something's fixable, we want to fix it.

come stay find out what's wrong with hamlet he's changed completely we need to know why i can't figure it out

Gentlemen, he's spoken of you often and warmly. I can tell you truly: there are no two men living he's closer to than you. If you're willing—if it will please you to spend time with us, to help us, your visit will earn you a king's thanks.

He's talked about you both constantly, and I mean it—you're the two people he cares about most. If you'll stay with us and help us understand what's happening to him, you'll have earned a king's gratitude. I'm not exaggerating that.

he loves you both you're the only ones he talks about stay and help us i promise it means something

Your Majesties, we could do what you command without you asking. We owe you that obedience already as your subjects.

We'll do whatever you ask—you don't even need to ask. That's what it means to serve the king.

we're yours command us we exist to serve you

Both of us obey. We give ourselves completely—with no reservations—and place our services freely at your feet.

We're with you all the way. Whatever you need, we're ready.

we're in totally we'll do anything

Thank you, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.

Thanks. I mean it.

good thanks

Thank you, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. I'm asking you to visit my son right away. Come with me—these attendants will take you where he is.

Thanks to you too. Please, go see Hamlet now. They'll show you where he is.

go find him now please

May heaven grant that our presence and our behavior will be pleasant and helpful to him.

I hope we can actually help him. I really do.

we just want to help we mean well

I hope so.

So do I.

amen

The ambassadors from Norway have returned, and they bring good news, my lord.

The guys from Norway are back, and they're happy with how things went.

ambassadors back they're satisfied

You've always been good at bringing me good news.

You always manage to get things done right.

good work

My lord, my liege, I serve God and the king above all. And if I'm right—and I usually am about these political matters—I've discovered the real cause of Hamlet's madness.

I do my duty. And I'm pretty sure I've figured out what's wrong with Hamlet. I think I know why he's acting crazy.

i know what's wrong with hamlet i figured it out i'm sure

Please speak about that—I really want to hear it.

Tell me about that. I've been wanting to hear.

tell me about that please

First, let me greet the ambassadors—then I'll tell you. My news is the main course of this feast.

Let me talk to the ambassadors first. Then I've got the real story for you.

wait let me handle this first then the good stuff

Go and bring them in.

Go. Get them.

do it

He tells me, my dear queen, that he has found the root cause and source of all your son's illness.

He tells me, my dear queen, that he's discovered what's causing all your son's strange behavior.

he found what's making your son sick.

I suspect it's nothing but this: his father's death and our marriage happening so quickly after.

I'm pretty sure I know what it is—his dad dying, and then we got married too fast.

it's the wedding and his father's death too fast too soon

Well, we'll investigate him.

Maybe. We'll see.

we'll see

Welcome, my good friends! Tell me, Voltemand, what news from our brother the King of Norway?

Welcome, my good friends! So, Voltemand, what does our brother in Norway have to say?

welcome. what's the news from norway?

Most gracious return of greetings. At first, King Fortinbras of Norway thought his nephew was mobilizing troops against Poland. But when he looked closer, he discovered that Fortinbras was actually preparing to attack Denmark—your territory, your Highness. The King of Norway was troubled by this news, grieved that age and illness had made him too weak to control his nephew. So he ordered Fortinbras to stop. Fortinbras received a strong rebuke from his uncle and agreed to obey. The old king was overjoyed at this. He gave Fortinbras money and official permission to take his army and march against Poland instead—provided you allow his troops safe passage through your lands. Here's the written agreement.

Norway sent his greetings. He said at first he thought his nephew was going after Poland, but when he checked, he found out the nephew was actually planning to attack you. Norway wasn't happy about that—he's not strong enough to control him, and it made him look bad. So he ordered Fortinbras to back off. Fortinbras did. Norway was so relieved he gave him money and permission to use his army against Poland instead—but only if you let his troops pass through your country. It's all in this letter.

fortinbras was attacking you we stopped him he's attacking poland now needs your permission to pass through

That it might please you to allow safe passage through your lands for this military undertaking, with the safety measures and permissions written down here.

He's asking if you'd let them pass safely through your kingdom for this military operation, with all the safety conditions spelled out.

let them pass through safely for the military operation.

I like this arrangement. We'll read the letter carefully, think it over, and give you a formal answer soon. For now, thank you for your work. Tonight we feast. You're welcome here.

Sounds good to me. I'll read the details and get back to him. But for now, thanks for handling that. We're having a feast tonight—you two should come.

i'll read it thanks for the work feast tonight relax

That business is settled. Now, Your Majesties, I could explain what makes a king a king, what makes duty real, why night is night and day is day—but that would just waste time. Since the essence of intelligence is brevity, and long-windedness is its enemy, let me be brief. Your son is mad. I call it madness. And if you want to understand what madness truly is, it's simply being unable to do anything but be mad. But let me set that aside.

That's done. Look, I could spend hours explaining the philosophy of kingship and all that, but that would be pointless. Brevity is the key to real wisdom, and I'm nothing if not wise, so let me skip to the point: Hamlet is crazy. He's genuinely insane. And insanity is just—well, it's just being insane. But anyway.

hamlet is mad completely insane i can prove it let me explain

More substance, less style.

Get to the point.

just tell us

I use no style at all, madam. He is mad—that's the truth. It's true, and it's a pity; and that it's true is itself a pity. It's a foolish way of putting it, but I'll say no more about style. He is mad. We can agree on that. What remains is to find the cause, or rather to describe the cause of his effect—his defective condition comes from some cause. Here's what I think: I have a daughter. While she is still mine—I mean, before some man takes her—she's shown me something. Now think about this. She's given me this.

I'm being serious. He's mad. It's true. It's sad. It's truly sad. Look, that's a dumb way to say it, but I'm not going to keep talking around it. The point is, he's mad. We know that. The question is: why? What caused it? And here's what I think—I have a daughter. While I still have her, before she gets married or whatever, she's shown me something. She gave me this. Look at it.

my daughter gave me something that proves it look at this this is the evidence

To the heavenly one, and the idol of my soul, the most beautiful Ophelia— That's a poor phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautiful' is a crude phrase: but you shall hear.

To my heavenly love, the idol of my soul, the most gorgeous Ophelia— That's a terrible phrase, a gross phrase; 'gorgeous' is a gross phrase: but listen.

to the heavenly one idol of my soul most beautiful ophelia ok that's bad phrasing gross actually but listen

these; in her pure white bosom, these, and so on.

these; keep them in your pure white heart, these, and so on.

these things keep close in your heart these and more

Did Hamlet send this to her?

Hamlet wrote that?

hamlet wrote this

Madam, wait. I'll read you the important part.

Wait. Let me read the important bit.

wait listen to this part

Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun moves, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love. O dear Ophelia, I'm bad at writing verse. I don't have the skill to express my suffering. But know that I love you best, believe me. Goodbye. Always yours, most dear lady, as long as this body belongs to him, HAMLET. My daughter has shown me this out of obedience; and furthermore, all his attempts to court her, as they occurred over time, in various ways and places, all of this she has reported to me.

Doubt the stars burn, Doubt that the sun moves, Doubt that truth exists, But never doubt my love. O dear Ophelia, I'm no good at writing poetry. I don't know how to express my suffering. But believe me when I say I love you most of all. Goodbye. Forever yours, my most dear lady, as long as I have this body, HAMLET. My daughter showed me this because she has to obey me; and also, she's told me about all his attempts to win her, everything that's happened over time, all the different ways he approached her, all of it she's reported to me.

doubt everything but not my love im bad at poetry cant express my pain but love you most goodbye always yours my daughter showed me reported every attempt he made every way every time he tried

How has she received his love?

What did she do about it?

what did she say

What is your opinion of me?

What's your take on me?

what u think of me?

I think you're a faithful and honorable man.

I think you're honest and loyal.

you're honest

Then I would like to prove that. But consider this: when I saw Hamlet's love beginning to show—as I did perceive it—I knew I had to act. Before my daughter even told me, I had to think: what would you, or my lord queen, think if I had seen this and said nothing? If I'd kept quiet, or ignored it, or let my heart turn away? No. I went straight to Ophelia and said this: 'Hamlet is a prince, and you are far below his rank. This cannot happen.' I gave her strict orders to reject him—no visitors, no messages, no gifts. She followed my advice. He was rejected, and the result was: he became sad. Then he stopped eating. Then he couldn't sleep. Then he grew weak. Then he became light-headed and confused, and from there descended into the madness where now he rages. And that's what we all mourn.

I want to prove that I'm trustworthy. Think about this: when I saw Hamlet starting to fall for her, I knew something had to be done. Before she even came to me about it, I was thinking: what would you think of me if I just watched this happen and did nothing? If I didn't intervene? So I called her in and said: 'Hamlet's a prince. You're not. This is not going to happen.' I ordered her to shut him down—no messages, no gifts, nothing. She did what I said. He was rejected. And then he fell apart. First he got depressed. Then he stopped eating. Then he couldn't sleep. Then he got weak. Then disoriented. Then into the madness that we're watching now. And that's what all of this is about.

i stopped them i told her to reject him he fell apart depression starvation insomnia weak mad

You think that's the cause?

You really think that's it?

that's really what caused it

It's possible. Very likely, even.

It makes sense. I could see that being it.

yeah that makes sense

Have I ever been wrong? Has there ever been a time when I said 'this is so' and it turned out to be otherwise?

Have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing? Have you ever caught me being wrong?

i'm never wrong check my record

Not that I'm aware of.

Not to my knowledge.

nope

Then cut off my head from my shoulders if I'm wrong about this.

Then call me a liar if I'm not right about this.

i'm willing to bet my head on it

If circumstances guide me, I will find where truth is hidden, even if it were buried deep inside the center of the earth.

If I follow the clues, I'll find the truth no matter how deep it's buried, even at the very center of the earth.

i'll find truth no matter how buried.

How can we test this further?

So how do we find out if that's really it?

how do we test this

You know he walks in the lobby here for hours.

He walks around the hallway here all the time.

he paces all day

Yes, he does.

He does.

yeah

I'll let my daughter walk around when he's out there. You and I will hide behind a curtain and watch. If he loves her, we'll see it. If his condition isn't caused by love, then I'll give up politics and become a farmer.

I'll send her to bump into him. You and I hide and watch what happens. If he cares about her, we'll see it. If this isn't the cause, I'll quit and go farm.

i'll put her in his way we hide we watch if he loves her we'll know

We'll try it.

Let's do it.

okay

Look, here comes the poor fellow, reading sadly.

Look, there's the poor guy, reading by himself.

look he's reading looking sad

I'm asking you both to leave. Let me speak with him.

You two should go. I'll talk to him.

leave let me handle him

How are you doing, my good Lord Hamlet?

How are you, Lord Hamlet?

how are you?

Well, thank God.

Thanks.

ty

Do you know who I am, my lord?

Do you know who I am?

do you know me

Yes, very well. You are a fishmonger.

Yeah. You're a fishmonger.

you're a fishmonger

No, I'm not, my lord.

I'm not.

no i'm not

Then I wish you were as honest a man as a fishmonger.

Then I wish you were an honest person like a fishmonger is.

i wish you were honest

Honest, my lord?

Honest?

honest

Yes, sir. To be honest, as the world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.

Yeah. Being honest in this world—that makes you one in ten thousand. It's almost impossible.

honesty in this world one in ten thousand impossible

That's absolutely right, my lord.

That's true, sir.

true that

For if the sun can breed maggots in a dead dog—and a good kissing carrion, I mean—do you have a daughter?

Look, if the sun can make maggots come out of a dead body—which is still something you could kiss—do you have a daughter?

sun breeds maggots in dead flesh good kissing carrion do you have a daughter

Yes, I do have a daughter, my lord.

I do, sir.

i do

Let her not walk in the sun. Pregnancy is a blessing, but not how your daughter might conceive it. Friend, be careful of that.

Don't let her go outside in the sun. Pregnancy is a good thing, but not the way your daughter might get pregnant. Watch out for that.

keep her inside pregnancy is good but not how she'll get it watch her

What's he saying? He keeps harping on my daughter. And yet he didn't recognize me at first—he called me a fishmonger. He's far gone, truly far gone. I remember in my youth, I was love-sick too, in a similar way to this. I need to speak with him again. What are you reading, my lord?

What was that about? He keeps talking about my daughter. But he didn't even recognize me—called me a fishmonger. He's really gone. I was like this once, when I was in love. It's the same pattern. I should try again. What are you reading?

he's obsessed with her talking about her then insulting me he's mad i remember this feeling from love

Words, words, words.

Words.

words

What is troubling you, my lord?

What's wrong, sir?

what's wrong?

Between whom?

About what?

about what

I mean, the substance of what you're reading.

The content. What it's about.

what's it saying

Slanders, sir. The writer here is a satirist who says that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes leak thick amber, and that they're weak in body. All of which, sir, I believe with power and confidence, yet I refuse to write it down as honest truth. Because you yourself, sir, should be as old as I am if, like a crab, you could walk backwards.

Insults. This book says old men have grey beards and wrinkles and weak bodies. Which is all true—I believe it. But it's bad form to write it down. Especially since, sir, if you could walk backwards like a crab, you'd be my age by now.

old men grey beards wrinkles weak failing bodies it's true but rude to say it

Though this appears to be madness, there is logic and sense in it. Will you leave the open air and come inside, my lord?

Even though this sounds crazy, there's something intelligent about it. Come on, let's go inside, my lord.

there's sense to this madness let's go inside

Into my grave?

You mean into my grave?

into my grave

Indeed, that is out of the air. How clever his replies sometimes are! A brightness that often comes to madness, which reason and sanity couldn't produce as successfully. I'll leave him and immediately arrange a meeting between him and my daughter. My lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.

Right—a grave is definitely out of the air. His responses can be surprisingly clever, even for someone who's going mad. Sometimes madness is sharper than reason. Let me go now and set up a private meeting with my daughter. Sir, I'll respectfully leave you now.

a grave is out of the air. his wit is sharp. ill set up a meeting w/ ur daughter

You can't take anything from me that I would give up more willingly, except my life—except my life—except my life.

There's nothing you could take from me that I'd part with more happily, except my life, my life, my life.

take anything but my life my life my life

Goodbye, sir.

Take care, sir.

bye

These boring, senile old fools.

God, these boring old guys.

ugh so boring

You're looking for Lord Hamlet; here he is.

You're looking for Hamlet—there he is.

looking for hamlet? here he is

God save you, sir.

God bless you, sir.

god bless u

My honored lord!

Sir!

sir

My dearest lord!

Sir!

hey sir

My wonderful friends! How are you, Guildenstern? And Rosencrantz. How are you both doing?

Hey, you guys! How are you, Guildenstern? And Rosencrantz. You both doing well?

great to see you how you been guildenstern & rosencrantz

Like ordinary people everywhere.

Like anyone else really.

same as everyone

Happy because we're not too happy; We're not at the top of Fortune's wheel.

We're good because we're not too good; We're not at Fortune's peak.

happy cuz we're not too happy not at fortune's top

Not even at the bottom?

Not at the lowest point?

bottom either?

Neither, sir.

No, sir.

nope

So you're somewhere in the middle of her favor?

So you're just in the middle somewhere?

in the middle?

By my faith, we are her common soldiers.

We're just her ordinary soldiers in service.

were just her regular soldiers

In Fortune's private parts? Yes, absolutely true; she's a prostitute. What's your news?

In Fortune's secret areas? Yeah, that's right—she's a whore. So what's happening?

fortune's secret places? true she's a whore what's new?

No news, sir, except that the world has become honest.

Nothing, sir, except the world has suddenly decided to become honest.

no news. the world grew honest lol

Then the end of the world is coming. But your story isn't true. Let me ask you more specifically. What have you done to deserve being sent to this prison by Fortune?

Then doomsday's here. But that's not true. Let me ask you guys something. What did you do that Fortune's sending you here like it's a prison?

then end times but you're lying what did you do to deserve being here

Prison, my lord!

Prison, my lord?

prison

Denmark's a prison.

Denmark is a prison.

denmark is a prison

Then everyone's in the same situation.

Then the whole world's like that.

so whole world is

A fine prison too, with many different cells and dungeons in it, with Denmark being one of the worst.

A good one at that—with tons of cells and dungeons, and Denmark's one of the worst.

good prison many cells dungeons denmark's the worst

We don't see it that way, my lord.

We don't think so, sir.

nah

Then it isn't one for you, because nothing is really good or bad in itself—only your thinking makes it so. For me, it's a prison.

Then it's not one for you, because nothing's good or bad in itself—your thinking makes it that way. For me it's a prison.

so it's not one for you nothing's good or bad only your thinking makes it for me it's a prison

Then your ambition makes it one, because the world isn't big enough for your mind.

Then your ambition makes it one—the world's too small for your mind.

your ambition makes it one world's too small for you

I could be trapped in a nutshell and think myself a king of infinite space, if only I didn't have bad dreams.

I could be stuck in a nutshell and feel like I rule infinite space, but I have bad dreams.

could be in a nutshell feel like a king but bad dreams ruin it

Those bad dreams are actually ambition, because what ambitious people want is just the shadow of a dream.

But those dreams are just ambition anyway, because ambitious people just want shadows of dreams.

bad dreams are ambition ambitious people just want shadows of dreams

A dream itself is nothing but an illusion.

But then again, a dream is just a shadow anyway.

a dream is just a shadow

Yes, and I think ambition is so thin and light that it's just the shadow of a shadow.

Yeah, and I think ambition's so airy and light it's basically the shadow of a shadow.

ambition's so light it's shadow of a shadow

Then our poor people are real bodies, while our kings and great heroes are just the shadows of poor people. Should we go to court? Because, honestly, I can't think straight. We'll wait on you.

So poor people are the real ones, and kings are just their shadows. Want to go to the court? Honestly, I can't reason right now. We'll stick with you.

so beggars are real kings are shadows want to go to court? i can't think we're with you

No, don't treat you like my other servants. I'll be honest—I'm getting terrible service. But as real friends, what are you doing at Elsinore?

No way. I won't group you with my other servants. I'm being real—I'm not being treated well. But honestly, why are you here at Elsinore?

no don't treat you like servants i'm not being treated well why you here at elsinore?

To visit you, sir—no other reason.

Just to see you, sir. That's all.

just visiting u

Poor as I am, I have little to thank you with, but I do thank you. My friends, my thanks aren't even worth half a penny. Were you sent for, or is this your choice? Is this a free visit? Come on, be straight with me. Please, speak.

I'm broke so I can barely thank you, but I do. Guys, my thanks are worth nothing. Were you sent to come here, or did you choose to? Is this really your choice? Come on, be honest. Please talk to me.

i can barely thank you but i do were you sent? or did you choose? be honest

What should we tell you, sir?

What would you like us to say, sir?

what do u want us to say

Well, anything. But let's focus. You were sent for, and your faces kind of admit it—your politeness isn't good enough to hide it. I know the King and Queen sent for you.

Anything really. But come on. You were sent for, and it shows in your faces—you're not good enough at hiding it. I know the King and Queen called you here.

anything but let's be real you were sent i can tell king and queen sent you

To what purpose, sir?

What's the point, sir?

why

That's for you to tell me. But I'm asking you by our friendship, by how close we were as young men, by how much we love each other, and by anything else you could want from me—be honest and direct with me. Were you sent for or not?

That's what you need to tell me. But I'm asking you as friends—we grew up together, we care about each other—just be straight with me. Were you sent for or not?

you gotta tell me i'm asking as your friend we grew up together just tell me were you sent?

What do you think?

What do you say?

what u think

Well then, I see what's happening. If you care about me, don't hold back from me.

Alright, I know what's going on here. If you're truly my friends, don't keep this from me.

i see it now if ur my friends be honest

My lord, we must confess we were summoned here.

Yes, sir. We were sent for.

yeah we were sent

I'll tell you why; that way I'll prevent you from having to confess, and you won't need to hide anything from the King and Queen. I've recently—I don't know why—lost all my happiness, abandoned all my usual pleasures, and I feel so weighed down that this beautiful earth seems like a barren wasteland to me, and this wonderful sky, this magnificent overhanging firmament, this glorious roof studded with golden stars, appears to me as nothing but a foul and diseased congregation of vapor. What a work is man! How noble in reason, how infinite in abilities, in form and movement how admirable, in action how like an angel, in understanding how like a god—the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals. And yet to me, what is this masterpiece of dust? Man doesn't delight me, nor does woman either, though your smiling seems to suggest otherwise.

I'll tell you the truth so you don't have to lie to the King and Queen. I've lost my sense of joy lately—I have no idea why. I don't enjoy anything anymore, and when I look at the world, I can't see its beauty. The earth looks like a wasteland, the sky looks like poison. People are amazing when you think about them—their intelligence, their abilities, their grace—but honestly? They bore me. I don't care about people or women, no matter what your smile is trying to tell me.

ill tell u so u don't lie to the king & queen. ive lost my joy. world looks empty. ppl r amazing but they bore me. no interest in women

My lord, I wasn't thinking any such thing.

My lord, that's not what I was thinking at all.

i wasn't thinking that

Why did you laugh then when I said that people don't make me happy?

Why'd you laugh when I said I don't like people?

why you laugh when i said people don't make me happy?

We were thinking, sir, that if you're not happy with people, what kind of thin entertainment the players will get from you. We passed them on the way, and they're coming here to perform for you.

We just thought—if you don't like people, the actors won't get much of a welcome from you. We ran into them on the way, and they're heading here to perform for you.

we thought if you hate people actors won't get good welcome we saw them coming to perform for you

The king actor will get a warm welcome and my respect; the warrior will use his sword and shield; the lover won't sigh without payment; the character man will finish his part peacefully; the clown will make people laugh hard; and the leading lady can say whatever she wants, or I'll fix the verse. What actors are they?

Whoever plays the king will be welcome and get my respect; the warrior gets to use his sword; the lover won't cry for free; the funny guy finishes his part fine; the clown gets the big laughs; and the lead actress can say whatever she wants or I'll make it work. Who are they?

king actor gets respect warrior uses sword lover doesn't sigh free funny guy finishes fine clown gets laughs lady says what she wants who are they?

The very same ones you used to enjoy so much—the tragic actors from the city.

Your favorite actors—the tragedy players from the city.

ur fave tragic actors from the city

How is it they're traveling? They had better reputation and profit staying in the city.

Why are they traveling around? They were better off in the city—better reputation and more money.

why they traveling? they were better in the city

I think they've been shut down because of some recent changes in theater.

I think they got banned or something because of what's been happening in theater.

i think they got shut down because of new theater stuff

Do they still have the respect they had when I was in the city? Are they still popular?

Do they have the same reputation as when I was in town? Are people still following them?

still got same respect as before? people still following them?

We think not so, my lord.

I don't think that, my lord.

no we don't think so

What happened to them? Are they getting old and stale?

What's going on? They losing their touch?

what happened? they getting rusty?

No, they work as hard as ever, but there's a group of young boys now who yell from the top of their voices and get wildly applauded for it. They're the new fashion, and they're attacking the regular theaters so much that men who would normally go out now avoid coming because they're scared of being mocked by the boy actors.

No, they work hard. But there's this group of kid actors now who yell really loud and get huge applause. They're the hot thing, and they attack the normal theaters so much that grown men are scared to go out because they don't want to get made fun of by these kids.

they work hard but there's kid actors now who yell & get applause they're the new thing they attack regular theaters mature men scared to go

Are they children? Who pays for them? How are they supported? Will they only act while they can sing? When they grow up and become real actors, won't they regret that their writers made them attack the theater that they'll eventually join?

They're kids? Who's paying for them? How do they make money? They only acting as long as they can sing? When they grow up and become real actors, won't they hate that their writers made them attack the whole theater world?

they're kids? who pays them? how they survive? they quit when can't sing? won't they regret it when they grow up?

Honestly, there's been a lot of fighting about this on both sides, and the country thinks it's fine to push them into controversy. For a while, no one would pay for a play unless the poet and the actor actually fought about it.

Really, there's been tons of fighting about this, and people think it's okay to stir them up. For a while, nobody would pay for a play unless the writer and actor were actually arguing about it.

there's been tons of fighting about it both sides people think it's fine to stir them up no one paid unless they fought

Is it possible?

Really?

really

There's been a lot of intense arguing and debate.

There's been a lot of heated arguments about it.

lots of heated debate

Do the boy actors win the day?

Are these young actors beating out the older ones?

young actors winning

Yes, they do, sir. Even Hercules and his burden too.

Yes, sir. They're even beating Hercules and his load.

yes even hercules & his load

It's not strange at all. My uncle is now King of Denmark, and the people who used to make faces at him when my father was alive—they'll pay twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred dollars each for his picture. By God, there's something deeper than normal here, if I could just figure it out.

That's not weird. My uncle's the King now, and people who used to mock him when my father was alive—they'll pay huge money for his picture. Damn, there's something strange going on if I could just understand it.

not strange uncle's king now people who mocked him pay big money for his picture something weird about that

There are the players, my lord.

There they are, my lord.

the actors arrived they're here

Gentlemen, you're welcome to Elsinore. Come, give me your hands. The proper way to welcome guests is with ceremony and tradition. Let me greet you with proper courtesy so that my kindness to the players, which I must show with respect, doesn't appear to mean more to me than your welcome. You're welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are mistaken.

Welcome to Elsinore, gentlemen. Come, shake hands. The right way to welcome people is with ceremony. I need to greet you properly here so my later politeness to the players doesn't make it look like I prefer them to you. You're welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are wrong about something.

welcome to elsinore. im greeting u properly so the players dont seem preferred. but my uncle & aunt r wrong

How are you deceived, sir?

How so, sir?

how so?

I'm only crazy in one direction. When the wind blows from the south, I know the difference between a hawk and a handsaw.

I'm only crazy one way. When the wind's from the south, I can tell a hawk from a handsaw.

only crazy one way wind from south i know hawk from handsaw

May well-being be with you, gentlemen.

Farewell, gentlemen.

bye

Listen, Guildenstern, and you too—listen close. That big old baby over there hasn't outgrown his baby clothes yet.

Hey, Guildenstern, both of you listen up. That old guy over there is still acting like a baby.

listen both of you that guy still a baby in grown man's clothes

Maybe he's going through his second childhood, since they say old men become children again.

Maybe that's his second time—they say old guys become kids again.

maybe his second time old guys become kids again

I'll predict he's coming to tell me about the players. Watch. You're right, sir—that was true just the other day on a Monday morning.

I bet he's coming to tell me about the actors. Just watch. Yeah, you're right, sir—that happened just the other morning.

he's coming to tell me about the actors you're right happened monday morning

Sir, I have news to tell you.

Sir, I have something to report.

i have news

My lord, I have something to tell you. When Roscius was a famous actor in Rome — there was no actor so skilled —

My lord, listen. There was this actor in Rome once — Roscius — the best actor who ever lived. No one was better —

let me tell you about an ancient actor the greatest of his time

The actors have arrived here, sir.

The actors are here, sir.

the actors r here

Blah blah, old news.

Yeah, yeah, I heard.

blah blah

I stake my honor on it.

I swear to it.

i swear it's true

Then each actor came riding on his donkey—

Then each actor rode in on his donkey—

so they all rode in on donkeys—

The finest actors in the world—they can perform tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral plays, pastoral-comic plays, historical-pastoral plays, tragical-historical plays, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral plays, plays with only one set, or any other kind. Seneca can't be too heavy, and Plautus can't be too light for them. These are the only real actors.

The best actors ever—they do tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comedy, historical-pastoral, tragical-history, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, one-act plays, whatever. Seneca's never too dark and Plautus is never too light for them. These guys are real actors.

best actors ever do any kind of play tragedy comedy history pastoral whatever real actors

Oh, Jephthah, judge of Israel — what a precious daughter you had!

Oh, Jephthah, judge of Israel — what a treasure your daughter was!

jephthah judge of israel your daughter what a loss

What treasure did he have, my lord?

What treasure was that, sir?

what treasure?

Well— 'One beautiful daughter, and no more, Whom he loved deeply.'

Well— 'One lovely daughter and nothing else, And he loved her so much.'

one beautiful daughter and nothing else he loved her so much

He's still talking about my daughter.

He keeps going on about my daughter.

still about my daughter

Isn't that right, old Jephthah?

That's right, isn't it, old Jephthah?

right old jephthah?

If you must call me Jephthah, my lord, then I must tell you: I have a daughter whom I love very dearly.

If you're saying I'm Jephthah, my lord, then yes — I have a daughter, and I love her more than anything.

i have a daughter i love her deeply what's your point why are you saying this

No, that doesn't follow logically.

No, that's not logical.

that doesnt follow

What comes next then, my lord?

What comes next, sir?

what's next?

Well, By chance, God knows, And then, you know, It happened, as it likely would. The first verse of that religious song will show you more. And look—here comes my entertainment.

Well, By chance, God knows, And then, you know, It probably happened. The first part of that old song will show you more. And look—here comes what I wanted to see.

by chance god knows then it happened like it would old song shows more look here comes the show

You are all welcome, very welcome. I am glad to see you are well. Welcome, good friends. Oh, my old friend! Your face has changed since I last saw you. Are you coming here to challenge me in Denmark? And my young lady actress! By heaven, you're taller than when I last saw you, raised higher by those platform shoes. I hope your voice hasn't cracked like damaged coins. You're all welcome, masters. We'll pursue this like French falconers—we'll perform anything we see. We need a speech right away. Come, show us what you can do. Come, give us something passionate.

Welcome, all of you, welcome. I'm so glad to see you're well. Welcome, good friends. Oh, my old friend! You've changed since I last saw you. Are you coming to confront me here in Denmark? And my young lady, you actress! By heaven, you're taller than when I saw you last, raised up by those high platform shoes. I pray your voice hasn't cracked like damaged money. You're all welcome, masters. Let's go at this like French falconers—let's perform anything we see. We need a speech right now. Come, show us your talent. Come, give us something emotional.

welcome all. glad to see you. you've changed. show us your skills. give us something passionate.

What speech would you have me recite, my lord?

Which speech would you like to hear, my lord?

what do you want me to perform

I once heard you recite a speech, but it was never performed, or only once, and the play didn't please the masses—it was too sophisticated for general taste. But it was, from what I gathered and from others whose judgment I respected, an excellent play, well-structured in its scenes, written with as much restraint as skill. I remember someone saying there were no cheap tricks in the lines to make it sensational, no language showing off, but called it an honest work, as wholesome as it was elegant, and much finer than showy. I loved one speech especially—the tale of Aeneas telling Dido about the fall of Priam. If you remember it, begin at this line, let me see: 'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast'—no wait, that's not quite right. It begins with Pyrrhus: 'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose black arms, dark as his purpose, looked like the night when he hid in the wooden horse, now has this terrible and dark appearance smeared with even more horrible paint. From head to foot he's red—covered in blood from fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, baked and caked with blood from the burning streets that cast a cruel light on their terrible murders. Roasted in wrath and fire, covered with coagulated gore, with eyes like burning stones, the hellish Pyrrhus seeks old grandfather Priam.' Continue from there.

I remember hearing you perform this speech once. It was never actually staged, or maybe just once, and audiences didn't like it. But from what I could tell, and from people whose taste I trusted, it was genuinely well-written. It was tasteful and clever, not showing off or using cheap tricks. It was honest and elegant. I especially loved the part where the character describes this warrior Pyrrhus killing the old king Priam. It was violent and dark—this warrior covered head to toe in blood, his eyes burning like fire, hunting down an old man. It was intense and powerful. Go ahead and perform it for me.

i remember that speech. never performed or just once. audience didnt like it. but it was brilliant & well done. loved the part about pyrrhus killing priam. dark & intense. perform it

Before God, my lord, that was well spoken — with good delivery and good judgment.

That was beautifully recited, my lord — excellent tone and real understanding.

excellent performance well done impressive

Soon he finds him, striking short at the Greeks. His ancient sword, resistant to his arm, lies useless where it falls, unable to obey his command. Unequally matched, Pyrrhus strikes at Priam in rage, missing; but with the force of his terrible sword, the helpless father falls. Then Troy itself, seeming to feel the blow, its towers on fire, crashes to the ground and with a horrible crash imprisons Pyrrhus's hearing. His sword, which was descending on the white head of revered Priam, seemed to hang frozen in the air. So Pyrrhus stood like a painted tyrant, and like someone caught between will and inability, did nothing. But as we often see before a storm, a silence in the heavens, clouds standing still, winds quiet, the world below silent as death, then suddenly dreadful thunder tears through; so after Pyrrhus's pause, vengeance stirs him to action again, and never did the Cyclops' hammers fall on Mars's armor with less mercy than Pyrrhus's bloody sword now falls on Priam. Out, out, you whore Fortune! All you gods, take away her power; break every spoke and piece of her wheel and roll it down the hill of heaven as far as to the demons.

He finds Priam but his ancient sword won't obey him—it falls useless. Priam, weak and defenseless, gets struck down. Troy itself seems to collapse from the blow, and the crash is so loud it stuns Pyrrhus. His sword is raised over old Priam's head but just hangs there, frozen. He stands there paralyzed, unable to move. But then, like the silence before a terrible storm, the moment breaks. Vengeance takes over and Pyrrhus starts striking again—no mercy at all, just brutal destruction. The gods watching would weep. Fortune, you whore! Strip her of all her power, smash her wheel to pieces, throw her down to the demons!

he strikes priam down. troy collapses. pyrrhus frozen for a moment. then vengeance takes over. brutal. no mercy. fortune u whore strip her power

That goes on for too long.

That's too long.

too long

It shall go to the barber and have your beard trimmed along with it. But please, continue. The player will tire of your interruptions. For there is a fellow who lacks wit — he falls asleep unless the performance involves either a bawdy joke or slapstick. But go on with your speech.

Your beard needs cutting too. But come on, the player doesn't want to keep stopping. Look, some audiences have no patience — they need crude jokes or silly physical comedy to stay awake. So let him finish without interruption.

you're interrupting let him finish some people need slapstick to stay awake

[Reciting] But who, oh who, had seen the veiled and veiled queen —

[Reciting] But who would have seen the queen, dressed in rags and covered up —

who saw the queen veiled and broken

The veiled queen?

The wrapped-up queen?

the veiled queen

That's excellent. 'Veiled queen' is a fine phrase.

That's good. That's a beautiful word choice.

excellent great word beautifully put

Who had seen the wrapped and muffled queen—running barefoot up and down, threatening the flames with her tears, a cloth on her head where her crown used to sit, and for a robe, a blanket wrapped around her thin and exhausted waist in the panic of fear—if the gods themselves saw her then, when she watched Pyrrhus playing horrible games with his sword, hacking up her husband's limbs, the instant scream she made—unless mortal things don't move them at all—would have made milk the burning eyes of heaven and stirred passion in the gods.

Imagine seeing the queen, wrapped in whatever she could grab, running around barefoot with tears streaming down her face, a cloth instead of a crown on her head, a blanket for a dress. If the gods themselves saw what she saw—her husband's body being hacked to pieces for entertainment—her scream would have been so terrible it would make even heaven weep. The gods would have felt her agony.

the queen runs barefoot wrapped in a blanket. her husbands being hacked apart. her scream would break heaven. gods would weep

Look at him — he hasn't even changed color, yet tears are streaming down his face. Please, no more.

Look at him cry. His face is flushed and he's got tears running down his cheeks. That's enough. Stop.

he's crying look at him stop i can't watch

That's good. I'll have you recite the rest of this soon. Good sir, will you make sure these players are well cared for? Listen carefully: treat them well, for they are the records and summaries of the age. After you're dead, you'd be better off having a bad epitaph than having them give you a bad reputation while you live.

That's good. I want you to perform the rest of this soon. Sir, make sure these actors are treated well, will you? They're like living historical records. Honestly, a bad reputation from them while you're alive would be worse than a bad epitaph after you're dead.

treat the actors well. theyre records of our time. bad review from them while alive is worse than a bad epitaph after death

My lord, I shall treat them according to what they deserve.

Don't worry, I'll treat them fairly.

i'll treat them according to merit

God's body, man, do much better than that! Use every man according to his merit, and who would escape punishment? Use them instead with generosity and honor — the generosity of good people, not the harsh judgment of tyrants.

No, do better than that! If everyone got what they deserved, we'd all be whipped. Treat them with generosity and respect — act like a good person, not a judge of their faults.

no be generous if you judged merit everyone would be whipped that's not how you treat people

Come along, sirs.

Come with me, gentlemen.

let's go follow me

Follow him, friends. We'll see a play tomorrow.

Go on, follow him. We'll watch your play tomorrow.

follow polonius we'll see you perform tomorrow

Can you hear me, old friend? Can you perform 'The Murder of Gonzago'?

Do you hear me, my old friend? Will you perform 'The Murder of Gonzago' for us?

can you play the murder of gonzago?

Yes, my lord.

Yes, my lord.

understood

We'll perform it tomorrow night. Could you, if needed, learn a speech I'll write for you — about a dozen or sixteen lines — and perform it in the play? Would you do that?

Tomorrow night. Look, I might write you a short speech — fifteen lines or so — and add it into your play. Could you do that? Would you learn it?

i might write a short speech for you to perform in the play can you do it

Yes, my lord.

Yes, my lord.

yes i can do it

Good. Follow that lord, and see you don't mock him as you go.

Good. Go with Polonius, and be respectful to him.

follow him treat him well don't mock him

My good friends, I'll see you again this evening. You are welcome here at Elsinore.

Good friends, I'll catch up with you tonight. Welcome to Elsinore.

see u tonight welcome to elsinore

Good my lord.

Yes, my lord.

understood

Yes, so, goodbye to you. Now I'm alone. What a rogue and miserable coward am I! Isn't it monstrous that this actor here, merely playing a fictional role, could force his soul so deeply into the part that his whole face went pale, tears in his eyes, distraction in his expression, a broken voice, and everything he did matched his emotion? And all for nothing! For Hecuba? What is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, that he should weep for her? What would he do if he had the real reason and motivation for passion that I have? He would flood the stage with tears and shock the general ear with horrible speech, drive the guilty mad with fear, terrify the innocent, confuse the ignorant, and truly amaze the very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, a dull and muddy coward, just sit here thinking like a dreamer, unmotivated by my cause, and can say nothing. No, not even for a king upon whose life and throne a damned defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain, strikes me in the face, pulls my beard and throws it in my face, tells me I'm a liar to my face as deeply as possible? Who does this to me? I should take it! It must be that I'm a coward, lacking the gall to make oppression bitter. If not, I would have already fed all this slave's offal to the birds. Bloody, shameful villain! Treacherous, lustful, heartless villain! Oh, vengeance! Why am I such a fool? This is amazing—I'm the son of a murdered father, prompted by heaven and hell to my revenge, yet I'm acting like a prostitute, unpacking my heart with words and cursing like a servant woman! That's disgusting! Stop, my brain! I've heard that guilty creatures sitting at a play, struck to the soul by the cunning of the scene, have confessed their crimes right there. Murder, though it has no tongue, will speak with miraculous power. I'll have these players perform something like the murder of my father right before my uncle. I'll watch his reaction carefully; I'll test him to the heart. If he even flinches, I know my course. The spirit I saw might be the devil, and the devil has power to assume a pleasing shape, and perhaps, using my weakness and sadness, which he's very good at working with, he abuses me to damn me. I need more solid proof than this. The play's the thing—by it I'll catch the conscience of the King.

Alright, goodbye. Now I'm alone. God, I'm such a coward! How can this actor get so emotional about a made-up story that he's crying and shaking, while I have an actual reason to be upset—my father was murdered—and I do absolutely nothing? If he had my real reason for emotion, he'd make the audience sob with his words and terrify them. But me? I sit here like a complete idiot, unable to say or do anything. Am I really this much of a coward? If someone hit me, told me I was a liar, humiliated me publicly, would I just accept it? That means I'm a coward, I must be. I lack the guts to do anything about my father's murder. This is pathetic. I'm supposed to be seeking revenge for my murdered father—heaven and hell are pushing me to do it—but instead I'm just wallowing and complaining like some cheap servant. I need to take action! Wait—I've got an idea. When guilty people watch their own crimes acted out on stage, they can't help themselves; they confess right there. So I'll have these actors perform my father's murder in front of Claudius. I'll watch his face. If he's guilty, he won't be able to hide it. But first I need to be absolutely sure that ghost was really my father and not some demon trying to trick me. The play will give me my proof.

im a coward. an actor cries over fiction. i have real reason to act & i do nothing. im pathetic. ill have the actors perform my dads murder in front of claudius. if hes guilty hell react. thats my proof