View Full Version : Hamlet: unwritten monologue on his way from the churchyard to the castle

10-02-2016, 10:42 AM
Sergey Oksanine

HAMLET: a monologue on his way from the churchyard to the castle
(with Prologue and Epilogue by W.Shakespeare).

In Memory of the First Hearer

ACT V. Scene I (the end).

Hear you, sir;
What is the reason that you use me thus?
I loved you ever: but it is no matter;
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech; We'll put the matter to the present push.
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. This grave shall have a living monument: An hour of quiet shortly shall we see; Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
HAMLET (walks alone to the castle)
Why, do not let thy soul aught against thy mother.
Here the understanding is come at once.
King Hamlet, abroad You watched the providence, methinks.
When, in Queen’s closet, that damned tongue
Was striking her, the soul of Nero
Knock’d that firm, ha, bosom.
But, blind with rage, it kill’d Polonius.
Old clown, poor Jephthah.
Alas, thee've lost thy treasure,
Since heavens play’d a simple tennis game
And clos’d with me by death of nymph of Dane.
Father, the second time before me You appear’d
To prevent mischief?
‘twas too late.
Dost You see, the fortune hath punish’d my assay
To play the murther,
When thy dishonest, plume-armour’d son
Search’d grounds for an honorable action
In the show.
Thou wert, methought, offended.
Alack, that cannon a-shooting false fires off.
My Lord, your purblind son hath cut the question
To be or not to be
To villainous combat.
We’ll ha-t one day with Laertes.
What’s told about forty thousand brothers,
If a hand of one
Can send the proud fellow to hell?
Words, words, words.
Why not silence?
This is the answer.
Before Laertes’ hit will take away
The life of Elsinore’s native master,
I should quit slaughter and revenge the murther.
No, that would be scanned.
What is the theatre of vengeance, if its slave
Be but to play another murder?
Fortune's quietus admits no discourse
And my companions to England
Should know that soon.
A fair business must o’erweigh the whole bark of bodies.
But, if the providence esteem'em o’erpaid
And take my virtuous ambition
In equal scale with other malefaction?
I cannot reason.
Another fortune’s buffet? Another grief? Another shape in-night?
That consummation, is’t possible?
No. No. No.
Up, sword. Peace thy sting and let Laertes
Accept my deep remorse.
I must my arm lay freely at his feet.
Perchance she will forgive me.

Horatio approaches.

Horatio, for the death of that young lady
E’en thee make me guilty?
Or again «'twere to consider too curiously, to consider so»?
Why, ‘twere to trace the dust of Alexander, right!
But here I’ve caught heavens up
At their game.
Mark me. I killed Polonius. Thence died his daughter.
My Lord, ‘twas not a game, methinks.
Dost You remember St.John’s scholars?
Men loved by God are first to be rebuked.
Thou art indeed a scholar.
Am I heaven-kissed? Ha - ha.
«Son of man, behold,
I take away from thee the desire
Of thine eyes with a stroke:
Yet neither shalt thou mourn nor weep,
Neither shall thy tears run down.»
Enters the castle.
HORATIO (aside)
But, if that love of heavens do outlive the time?

Scene II. A hall in the castle.

So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other; You do remember all the circumstance?

12-29-2018, 09:48 AM
This is the preliminary version. The final version is published at De Plume en Plume (https://www.de-plume-en-plume.fr/histoire/hamlet-a-monologue-on-his-way-from-the-churchyard-to-the-castle-1) and Stihi Ru (https://www.stihi.ru/2016/07/07/84)
Sergey Oksanine