Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, is visited by a mysterious ghost resembling his recently deceased father, the King of Denmark. The ghost tells Hamlet that his father was murdered by Claudius, the King’s brother, who then took the throne and married Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude. The ghost encourages Hamlet to avenge his father’s death by killing Claudius.
What do you think that will happen? Do you think Hamlet will be able to do that? Will his mum and dad be discovered? first, let´s learn something about the main characters you have in the play
|HAMLET´S CHARACTERS. WHO IS WHO?|
Here you have one of the most popular hamlet´s speeches. Let´s try to understand a little bit what Hamlet says. Don’t worry about vocabulary because it is quite difficult and it has old-fashioned forms and words.
Below you have some sentences that summarize the most important ideas. Can you find them in the text?
- What is after death? we don´t know so maybe it is better to accept the problems we have now.
- we can find peace by killing ourselves, because who wants to fight against life´s problems?
- If we sleep we might dream. What dreams could we have? What do they mean?
- What can I do, do I face my problems or do I accept them and that´s all? What can I do.
- Sleeping is a way of avoiding problems
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to--'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,