Shakespeare's Hamlet in Plain English

by C.J. B.

Scene 4

 

  (the castle grounds, at night)

  Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus

  Hamlet The air bites sharply, it is very cold.

  Horatio It is a bitter and keen air.

  Hamlet What hour is it now?

  Horatio I think it’s just before twelve.

  Marcellus No, the hour has already struck.

  Horatio Has it? I did not hear it. Then it draws near the time when the spirit walked before us.

  A flourish of trumpets and two pieces of ordnance go off

  What does this mean, my lord?

  Hamlet The king stays up late tonight, carousing. He consumes alcohol and makes merry with abandon, carelessly parading his own self-indulgence, dancing in drunken revelry, with little sense of the dignity befitting of his position. And as he continues his incessant drinking, the kettle-drum and trumpets sound; a signal for the cannons to be fired in celebration.

  Horatio Is it a custom?

 

  Hamlet It is. But to my mind, though I am native here and well accustomed to this, it is a tradition we would do well not to observe at all. Such drunken revelling only invites disapproval upon us for it is unseemly; it demonstrates a considerable lack of decorum. It gains us a bad reputation from east to west. We’re criticised in other nations for this. They call us drunkards and pigs, soiling our good name. It detracts from the greatness of our achievements, lessening the estimation of their worth in the eyes of foreigners. Often, because of a severe defect in their character, perhaps a product of their birth, for which they are not then responsible, people will exhibit highly unreasonable and objectionable propensities, by which their otherwise decent character is diminished, so much so that, even if they have but a single defect, whether it be innate or acquired, despite whatever virtues they may have, even if they are as exemplary as you can get, their whole reputation is downgraded, corrupted by just that one particular fault. It takes only a small measure of evil to efface all of a person’s noble and admirable qualities.

  Enter Ghost

  Horatio Look, my lord, it comes.

  Hamlet Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Whether you are an angel or a devil, coming from Heaven or from Hell, whether your intentions are wicked or charitable, the fact that you have appeared in this form invites questions which must be answered. I must therefore speak to you. I’ll call you Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane. O answer me. Do not allow me to be damned by my own ignorance, but tell me why your body, buried according to the canons of the Church, entombed in death, now walks free of its burial shroud; why the tomb in which we saw you after death has opened its ponderous, marble lid to return you to this world. For what purpose do you, a deceased corpse, once again in your full armour, revisit us in this manner, out here at night in this moonlit scene, causing us such fear, we who are human and subject to the weaknesses of our nature, rendering us so confounded and deeply disturbed? Tell me, why? I assume you require something of us. What duty or task would you have us perform? What should we do?

  Ghost beckons

  Horatio It beckons you to go away with it, as if it wishes to impart something to you alone.

  Marcellus Look how it waves you towards more remote ground. But do not go with it.

  Horatio No, by no means.

  Hamlet It will not speak. Then I will follow it.

  Horatio Do not, my lord.

  Hamlet Why should I be afraid? My life is worth little, and as for my soul, what can it do to that, a thing as immortal as itself? It waves me forth again. I’ll follow it.

  Horatio What if it tempts you towards the flood, my lord, or to the treacherous summit of the cliff that overhangs the sea, and there assumes some other sinister form, showing itself to be an evil spirit which might deprive you of your reason, drawing you into madness? Think about it. That very place provokes thoughts of desperation and suicide, without any need for further motive, in the minds of everyone who merely looks over the edge at the great drop to the sea, hearing it roar beneath.

  Hamlet It waves me still. Go on, I’ll follow you.

  Marcellus You shall not go, my lord.

  Hamlet Take your hands away.

  Horatio Be warned, you shall not go.

  Hamlet My fate calls out to me, affording me resolve, hardening my courage. Still I am called. Unhand me, gentlemen. I swear I’ll kill anyone who impedes me. Take your hands off me. Go on, I’ll follow you (to ghost).

  Exit Ghost and Hamlet

  Horatio He’s becoming increasingly desperate, losing his sense of reason.

  Marcellus Let’s follow. It would not be appropriate to obey his orders given his state of mind.

  Horatio Let’s follow him then. What could result from all of this?

  Marcellus Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

  Horatio Maybe we should simply leave it to fate.

  Marcellus No, we should go after him.