The Tragedy Of Hamlet, Prince Of Denmark!
I write with sorrow -real and stark-
'The Tragedy Of Hamlet Prince Of Denmark'
Like Othello, The Tempest and king Lear
It's a marvel by the pen of Shakespeare
Who paints the perils of his life...
Stretched by caution, crushed by strife
He cries for the matters of the Prince
Laden with sorrows, full of sufferings
Caused by the death of Hamlet, the king
Whose love was the song he used to sing.
His mother, the queen named Gertrude
Was frail n fickle but not so rude...
Again she married Claudius, the rake,
Her brother-in-law for passions sake;
Began new life with joys and rest
Which was for all a damned incest...
Black robe clad young Hamlet alone
Was tense for the honor of Danish throne.
His mourning thoughts eclipsed his looks
Fondness for books n sports forsook...
Being in grief he lost his mirth-
Lost the pleasures touching his worth
A horrid rumour reached his ears,
shook his mind, enhanced his fears
Based on a report of three sentinels
That a ghost appeared from flames of hell
Resembling the warring late Monarch
Who fought Fortinbras, an enemy of Denmark.
No sooner he heard about this wonder
decided to watch it despite the thunder.
With guards he reached the post n then
The clock struck one and shocked the men
The ghost then appeared, beckoned the son
Who trod ahead and left everyone...
He followed it in fondness and fear
in a really tough and tense atmosphere
The heaven and earth did try to observe
His limbs as hardy as Nemean lion's nerve.
At once the Ghost disclosed with frown
That Claudius killed him for his crown
By pouring potion his life he stole
Then Queen and throne gained as goal.
So slept the king by the brother's hand
And left forever this mortal land
For the Queen he said, 'despite her dodge
Leave her to thorns, in her bosom lodge.'
After narrating the murder so foul
The Ghost, in pain, began to howl
Demanded from him revenge of the act
If he had, by nature, a gut to react
The Prince, then, tried to check his might
Found himself as unable to fight
Lacking stimulus to take revenge
His teeth and fists, he used to clench
At last decided in utter sadness
To leave his rest by putting on madness
Wished he hadn't been born at all
To set things right whether big or small.
Now rise the curtains in room of Polonius
The state's counselor, old and loquacious
Beside a son, he had one daughter
Whose love for Hamlet, he used to slaughter
Possessing a heart precious as pearls
Fair she was of all Shakespeare's girls
Like gorgeous Perdita, but unlike Cordelia
Submissive she was -the fair Ophelia
Reported she once to her father with fear
About the Prince's odd behavior
Who strangely came in her private closet
With sleeves inside out, eyes out of sockets
Made with sighs some painful sounds
cast a glance so piteous, so profound
Her heart bled at this odd view
But the old man found another clue
He termed it as an ecstasy of love
In stature though Hamlet was far above
He thought it fit to tell the king
that the Prince was out of reason's ring
He took her hand and left the room
To put his daughter's fate in gloom.
Right away he went to the Danish court
To tell the royal pair of this report
In short they decided to secretly spy
And used his daughter as a decoy
But Hamlet was a sane insane
He understood their efforts vain.
Maltreated her despite his love
Though knew her well as pretty dove.
By manner changed, he broke her heart
Like actor's good, he played his part.
Ophelia was compelled to think
Of their past love and worthy link.
So cautious then young Hamlet was
Of Guidenstern and Rosencrantz;
'Cause they were sent to check his mind
By the Queen and king seemingly kind
They felt themselves so much helpless
Bent their heads and did confess.
Then Hamlet said to them, 'on earth
I know not where I lost my mirth.'
For cure of mental grievous layers
The Prince was told of city players.
He keenly took interest in them
With open arms he bade welcome.
The players had prospects shining bright
In whom he used to take delight
Requested he to an actor boy
To recite the tragedy of the king of Troy.
That passage was a fiery one
Impressive was its tragic tone
The scene incited him to think
Of Hecuba and the player's link.
If he had his pains and fears
he'd have drowned stage with tears.
For making Claudius his only prey
The prince conceived a plan to play
Based on one Gonzago's life,
Stung by treachery of his wife
Just to avoid certain mishap
He named it as a mousetrap.
The play was the only pregnant thing
To read the mind of the guilty king.
Now Guildenstern informed the king
That he didn't notice anything
And could not find any proof
Because with a craft he kept aloof
Asked the Queen with motherly passion:
'Did he talk in a normal fashion? '
The servants of the royal court
Replied and gave that new report:
'To stage a play the Prince intends,
Invites your grace with all your friends
To watch the play arranged by him'
(In fact to be really caught by him.)
The king replied with a cunning art
That he would go with 'all his heart.'
With all the lords he left the scene
Along with the pretty foolish Queen.
Now Hamlet appeared on the stage
With a tinge of sorrow and of rage
He knew not whether to live or die
His mental state had gone awry.
While he was lost in painful thought
Then all his gifts Ophelia brought
Tried to give them back to him
With teeming eyes and voice so dim
She said that, 'for to the noble mind
Gifts lose worth if giver is unkind.'
The genius prince advised the girl
That 'honesty is like a pearl
So save your pearl and be a nun
Leave this world and everyone.'
With changing tone he said at once:
'Not now but I did love you once.'
The girl in her excess of grief...
lost her comforts and relief...
Recalled with pain his state of mind
So fair and fine, so nice and kind
She thought of Hamlet's wretched tone
That a noble mind was overthrown
Who, once, was a flower of the state
The glass of grace and finer taste
But he had lost his wisdom's range
She sobbed and wept over this change
Then entered the king with crafty men
And hurriedly disclosed his plan.......
To send the Prince in stark exile
By art, by force or by some guile.
Now Hamlet had the only way,
To check the king, he staged a play
The scenes, in fact, did resemble
His father's murder by his uncle
The players did enact on the stage
At which the king expressed his rage
He left the hall with temper lost
with shivering heart and senses frost
The play removed his outer layers
And credit went to all the players
There wasn't anything to hide
Hamlet was quite satisfied...
His heart and conscience had no fear
The great confusion was now clear
He got a message from the Queen
Who was under impact of spleen
Meanwhile came the king so stern
With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Ordered them to leave the land
With Hamlet and a dispatch by hand
They promised and then left the king
With aching heart and eyes running
When the king was left alone there
In melancholic atmosphere
His conscience started pricking him
In prayers he tried to utter a hymn
His prayers were full of confession
With no prospects of his salvation
So bad and foul was his offense
He found no shield for his defense
His sin was foul as black as death
He prayed to God with broken breath
When Hamlet saw him lost in prayers
Thought of his incestuous pleasures
He thought, 'I 'll kill him for his crime
That would be much better time
While he would be asleep or drunk
Or in rage he would be sunk....'
While thinking this, his flaw subdued,
Delayed his act, and left the lewd;
Proceeded to his Mother's chamber
To speak bitter words like dagger
Present was Polonius there.........
Of his fate quite unaware..............
Hid himself behind the curtain
Neither life nor death was certain.
Hamlet called her not his mother
but loving wife of husband's brother.
His rashness caused her louder shriek
Harassed the Queen as a freak
Severely tried to show her a glass
The Man was shocked behind the arras
That voice raised in him a storm
He stabbed at where the cry came from
The man (behind) , cried again
In painful voice, 'O, I am slain.'
So justly killed was the king's friend
And act of spying became his end.
Hamlet's thoughts were not sinister
But he became his scourge n minister
By dagger words he op'd her eyes
His wretched voice shook the skies
Convinced her, and disclosed atlast
He wasn't mad 'but mad in craft.'
He told her in his accent flat:
'I must to England, you know that? '
He painfully this news revealed
That letters of the king were sealed
Then dragged the body of the man
In grief there did Queen remain...
She told the king of 'the heavy deed, '
So then he started taking heed..........
He said, 'I see it writ on wall...
His life is full of threats to all.'
By ready hands at once he wrote
To the king of England a cunning note
Touching Hamlet's present death
Till then he wont take joyous breath.
For those who know Shakespeare's art
This story has another part..............
Young Fortinbras came there at last
For Hamlet served a big contrast.
That tender Prince, a man of mission
Was burned by fire of great ambition
Without any reason-big and sound
Went to Poland for a patch of ground;
Suffering from the thirst for fame
Not profit but for the sake of name.
This act opened Hamlet's eyes
The hidden flames began to rise.
He thought then that, 'from this time forth
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth.'
A gentleman informed Gertrude
About Ophelia's madness as a fruit
Of her father's sad demise;
Entered she with half-shut eyes.
Nobody there could bear so long
The grief reflected from her songs.
A noise was heard from outside the hall
Which confused every big and small.
The mob was crying against the king
By, 'Laertes shall be the Danish king.'
Laertes full of fiery passions...........
Ordered them to have patience
Entered with full zest and wrath
From the mouth flowed angry froth
Blamed the king for the father's murder
Spoke to him with a mighty thunder.
The vile king was good at game
Laertes, by him, was easily tamed
By cunning words turned all attention
Towards Hamlet moved his tension.
Hamlet, who was sent to England,
by chance couldn't reach that land.
Piracy -an ugly, criminal act,
Became for him a lucky fact.
He left his ship to fight with pirates
His 'fellows'unknowingly then left.
He got saved from being killed
By king of England 'against his will.
England killed on orders stern
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern-
On fortunes favors who can depend?
By hands of justice, they met their end.
He told it all to Horatio-his friend
That there's a power that shapes our ends.
On the death of both these men
He said that life is like to say 'one'.
Then, Dear Readers! towards his goal
Started moving his ' prophetic soul.'
Claudius made, then, a plan to snatch
His life, he arranged a fencing match-
Sent his message by a courtier
To prepare his dagger and rapier.
Clear of guilt, the Prince at ease
Accept the challenge by Laertes.
A scheme there is in a sparrow's fall
So 'on my part, the readiness is all.'
Prepared were table, trumpets, drums-
Claudius called, 'come, Hamlet, come.'
Fencing match was a scheme in fact
In which he used then all his tact.
He really poisoned Laertes ' mind
with revengeful thoughts bloody n unkind
Hamlet spoke, ere the fight began
To laertes, 'you are a gentleman
I've done you wrong but not in rudeness
I tell you that it was my madness.'
With these words, prepared to play
There death started a game to play
Laertes struck with poisoned weapon
None could understand what happened.
He himself was wounded badly -
Thought that he was killed but justly.
Envenomed drink was also there
Which was drunk by his Mother.
All that happened for no reason
All were crying, 'treason, treason'
Hamlet, wounded, thought to avenge
killed the king and took revenge.
He cried, 'incestuous, murderous Dane!
Fall! but never to rise again...............'
Alas! he saw that sergeant Death
Had come to take his last breath..
He felt that passed the Golden moments,
'the Time is up, the rest is silence.'
Cease my pen! don't speak of glory
who can dare to read his story?
An unjust act, a foul practice-
Revenge, O Prince! is a wild justice.
With all my heart, I remember you
Would you believe that I LOVE YOU...? ? ?
poem by Shahzia Batool
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
King Claudius: How fares our cousin Hamlet?
Hamlet: Excellent, i' faith, of the chameleon's dish. I eat the air, promise-crammed. You cannot feed capons so.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius
My mind now moves to distant places.
I'm walking the streets of Elsinore,
through its squares, and I recall
the very sad story-
that unfortunate king
killed by his nephew
because of some fanciful suspicions.
In all the homes of the poor
he was mourned secretly
(they were afraid of Fortinbras).
A quiet, gentle man,
a man who loved peace
(his country had suffered much
from the wars of his predecessor),
he behaved graciously toward everyone,
humble and great alike.
Never high-handed, he always sought advice
in the kingdom's affairs
from serious, experienced people.
Just why his nephew killed him
was never actually explained.
The prince suspected him of murder,
and the basis of his suspicion was this:
walking one night along an ancient battlement
he thought he saw a ghost
and he had a conversation with this ghost;
what he supposedly heard from the ghost
were certain accusations against the king.
It must have been a fit of fancy,
an optical illusion
(the prince was nervous in the extreme;
while he was studying at Wittenberg,
many of his fellow students thought him a maniac).
A few days later he went
to his mother's room to discuss
certain family affairs. And suddenly,
while he was talking, he lost his self-control,
started shouting, screaming
that the ghost was there in front of him.
But his mother saw nothing at all.
And that same day, for no apparent reason,
he killed an old gentleman of the court.
Since the prince was due to sail for England
in a day or two,
the king hustled him off post-haste
in order to save him.
But the people were so outraged
by the monstrous murder
that rebels rose up
and tried to storm the palace gates,
led by the dead man's son,
the noble lord Laertes
(a brave young man, also ambitious;
in the confusion, some of his friends called out:
'Long live King Laertes!').
Later, once the kingdom had calmed down
and the king was lying in his grave-
he was killed by his nephew, the prince,
who never went to England
but escaped from the ship on his way there-
a certain Horatio came forward
and tried to exonerate the prince
by telling some stories of his own.
He said that the voyage to England
had been a secret plot, and orders
had been given to kill the prince there
(but this was never clearly ascertained).
He also spoke of poisoned wine-
wine poisoned by the king.
It's true that Laertes spoke of this too.
But couldn't he have been lying?
Couldn't he have been mistaken?
And when did he say all this?
While dying of his wounds, his mind reeling,
his talk seemingly delirious.
As for the poisoned weapons,
it was shown later that the poisoning
hadn't been done by the king at all:
Laertes himself had done it.
But Horatio, whenever pressed,
would produce even the ghost as a witness:
the ghost said this and that,
the ghost did this and that!
Because of all this, though letting Horatio talk,
most people in their hearts
pitied the poor king,
who, with all these ghosts and fairy tales,
was unjustly killed and disposed of.
Yet Fortinbras, who profited
by winning the throne so easily,
gave full attention and weight
to every word Horatio said.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Gertrude: O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Hamlet: A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, as kill a king, and marry with his brother.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius: The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
line from Hamlet, Act I, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius: Laertes, was your father dear to you?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
A face without a heart?
line from Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 7 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Laertes: To cut his throat i’ the church.
King Claudius: No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize;
Revenge should have no bounds.
line from Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 7 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius: Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
Queen Gertrude: Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:
And I beseech you instantly to visit my too much changed son.
line from Hamlet, Act II, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Messenger: Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds: ‘Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!’
line from Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
Hamlet: Oh, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
line from Hamlet by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Rosencrantz: Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
Hamlet: Ay, sir, that soaks up the king’s countenance, his rewards, his authorities.
line from Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius: Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
line from Hamlet, Act I, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Hamlet: Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what
replication should be made by the son of a king?
line from Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Hamlet: Let a beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the king’s mess.
line from Hamlet, Act V, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Hamlet's Departure
'Respiré de ese humo amargo de tu adiòs
Y desde que tù te fuiste yo solo tengo...'.
Mom is always mom. Oedipus started without knowing it.
A murder was on a sunny clobbed paving among olive trees.
An incest was among the walls of dark ash-lar in an old palace.
And the deserted child got lost in the old world
Thinking he had found the new world.
On the ramparts of the castle, in his prince clothes, Hamlet meets his father's ghost.]
The wind blows upon the poor prince of Denmark
Who won't kill his stepfather but all the others.
Hamlet, you couldn't return
Now you can only go away.
*
The quotation is from the lyric 'Camisa Negra'.
poem by Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Gertrude: And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Epitaphs For Two Players
I. EDWIN BOOTH
An old actor at the Player's Club told me that Edwin Booth first impersonated Hamlet when a barnstormer in California. There were few theatres, but the hotels were provided with crude assembly rooms for strolling players.
The youth played in the blear hotel.
The rafters gleamed with glories strange.
And winds of mourning Elsinore
Howling at chance and fate and change;
Voices of old Europe's dead
Disturbed the new-built cattle-shed,
The street, the high and solemn range.
The while the coyote barked afar
All shadowy was the battlement.
The ranch-boys huddled and grew pale,
Youths who had come on riot bent.
Forgot were pranks well-planned to sting.
Behold there rose a ghostly king,
And veils of smoking Hell were rent.
When Edwin Booth played Hamlet, then
The camp-drab's tears could not but flow.
Then Romance lived and breathed and burned.
She felt the frail queen-mother's woe,
Thrilled for Ophelia, fond and blind,
And Hamlet, cruel, yet so kind,
And moaned, his proud words hurt her so.
A haunted place, though new and harsh!
The Indian and the Chinaman
And Mexican were fain to learn
What had subdued the Saxon clan.
Why did they mumble, brood, and stare
When the court-players curtsied fair
And the Gonzago scene began?
And ah, the duel scene at last!
They cheered their prince with stamping feet.
A death-fight in a palace! Yea,
With velvet hangings incomplete,
A pasteboard throne, a pasteboard crown,
And yet a monarch tumbled down,
A brave lad fought in splendor meet.
Was it a palace or a barn?
Immortal as the gods he flamed.
There in his last great hour of rage
His foil avenged a mother shamed.
In duty stern, in purpose deep
He drove that king to his black sleep
And died, all godlike and untamed.
I was not born in that far day.
I hear the tale from heads grown white.
And then I walk that earlier street,
The mining camp at candle-light.
I meet him wrapped in musings fine
Upon some whispering silvery line
He yet resolves to speak aright.
II. EPITAPH FOR JOHN BUNNY, MOTION PICTURE COMEDIAN
In which he is remembered in similitude, by reference to Yorick, the king's jester, who died when Hamlet and Ophelia were children.
Yorick is dead. Boy Hamlet walks forlorn
Beneath the battlements of Elsinore.
Where are those oddities and capers now
That used to "set the table on a roar"?
And do his bauble-bells beyond the clouds
Ring out, and shake with mirth the planets bright?
No doubt he brings the blessed dead good cheer,
But silence broods on Elsinore tonight.
That little elf, Ophelia, eight years old,
Upon her battered doll's staunch bosom weeps.
("O best of men, that wove glad fairy-tales.")
With tear-burned face, at last the darling sleeps.
Hamlet himself could not give cheer or help,
Though firm and brave, with his boy-face controlled.
For every game they started out to play
Yorick invented, in the days of old.
The times are out of joint! O cursed spite!
The noble jester Yorick comes no more.
And Hamlet hides his tears in boyish pride
By some lone turret-stair of Elsinore.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Edwin Booth
An old actor at the Player’s Club told me that Edwin Booth
first impersonated Hamlet when a barnstormer in California.
There were few theatres, but the hotels were provided
with crude assembly rooms for strolling players.
The youth played in the blear hotel.
The rafters gleamed with glories strange.
And winds of mourning Elsinore
Howling at chance and fate and change;
Voices of old Europe’s dead
Disturbed the new-built cattle-shed,
The street, the high and solemn range.
The while the coyote barked afar
All shadowy was the battlement.
The ranch-boys huddled and grew pale,
Youths who had come on riot bent.
Forgot were pranks well-planned to sting.
Behold there rose a ghostly king,
And veils of smoking Hell were rent.
When Edwin Booth played Hamlet, then
The camp-drab’s tears could not but flow.
Then Romance lived and breathed and burned.
She felt the frail queen-mother’s woe,
Thrilled for Ophelia, fond and blind,
And Hamlet, cruel, yet so kind,
And moaned, his proud words hurt her so.
A haunted place, though new and harsh!
The Indian and the Chinaman
And Mexican were fain to learn
What had subdued the Saxon clan.
Why did they mumble, brood, and stare
When the court-players curtsied fair
And the Gonzago scene began?
And ah, the duel scene at last!
They cheered their prince with stamping feet.
A death-fight in a palace! Yea,
With velvet hangings incomplete,
A pasteboard throne, a pasteboard crown,
And yet a monarch tumbled down,
A brave lad fought in splendor meet.
Was it a palace or a barn?
Immortal as the gods he flamed.
There in his last great hour of rage
His foil avenged a mother shamed.
In duty stern, in purpose deep
He drove that king to his black sleep
And died, all godlike and untamed.
. . . . .
I was not born in that far day.
I hear the tale from heads grown white.
And then I walk that earlier street,
The mining camp at candle-light.
I meet him wrapped in musings fine
Upon some whispering silvery line
He yet resolves to speak aright.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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John Bunny, Motion Picture Comedian
In which he is remembered in similitude, by reference to Yorick,
the king’s jester, who died when Hamlet and Ophelia were children.
Yorick is dead. Boy Hamlet walks forlorn
Beneath the battlements of Elsinore.
Where are those oddities and capers now
That used to “set the table on a roar”?
And do his bauble-bells beyond the clouds
Ring out, and shake with mirth the planets bright?
No doubt he brings the blessed dead good cheer,
But silence broods on Elsinore tonight.
That little elf, Ophelia, eight years old,
Upon her battered doll’s staunch bosom weeps.
(”O best of men, that wove glad fairy-tales.”)
With tear-burned face, at last the darling sleeps.
Hamlet himself could not give cheer or help,
Though firm and brave, with his boy-face controlled.
For every game they started out to play
Yorick invented, in the days of old.
The times are out of joint! O cursed spite!
The noble jester Yorick comes no more.
And Hamlet hides his tears in boyish pride
By some lone turret-stair of Elsinore.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Gertrude: O Hamlet, speak no more: Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; and there I see such black and grained spots as will not leave their tinct.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Claudius: Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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