Hamlet

William Shakespeare, Mark Norfolk

• Éditeur: Aurora Metro Books
• ISBN:
  9781911501022
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: Shakespeare Drama

New adaptation of 'Hamlet' for a modern black theatrical production.

Remember me… Denmark, a Black Empire of modern England, where an intelligent young student discovers the world he once knew has crumbled. Implored to defend what is left of his father's decaying legacy, Hamlet now faces the greatest moral challenge – to kill or not to kill. Directed by Jeffery Kissoon (RSC, National Theatre, Robert Lepage, Peter Hall and in Peter Brook's seminal production of The Mahabharata) and adapted with Shakespeare's text by award-winning playwright Mark Norfolk, this fast-moving version gets straight to the heart of a young man's dilemma. This first all-black production of Hamlet in Britain makes a striking contribution to the Shakespeare 400 anniversary celebration. For ages 12+

ACT I

SCENE 1

The Palace Grounds²

Enter HORATIO.

HORATIO

Who’s there?

Enter GHOST.

What art thou that usurpest this time of night?

In the same figure like the king that’s dead

Together with that fair and warlike form

In which the majesty of buried Denmark

Did sometimes march? Speak to me.

If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,

Speak to me.

If there be any good thing to be done

That may to thee do ease and grace to me

Speak to me.

If thou art privy to thy country’s fate,

Which, happily foreknowing may avoid

O speak!

Stay. Speak, speak, I charge thee, speak.

By heaven I charge thee, speak.

A cock crows.

Exit GHOST.

Stay, illusion!

Is not this something more than fantasy?

What think you on’t?

Before my God, I might not this believe

Without the sensible and true avouch

Of mine own eyes. Is it not like the king?

As thou art to thyself?

In what particular thought to work I know not.

But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion,

This bodes some strange eruption to our state.

It faded on the crowing of the cock.

And then it started, like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful summons.

Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long.

And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;

So hallowed and so gracious is that time.

I have heard the cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat

Awake the god of day, and at his warning,

Th’ extravagant and erring spirit hies

To his confine. And of the truth herein

This present object made probation.

But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,

Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.

Let us impart what we have seen tonight

Unto young Hamlet. For, upon my life,

This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.

Exeunt.

SCENE 2

Grand State Room³

A spectacular party is underway. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, LAERTES, OPHELIA with Attendants and HAMLET.

KING CLAUDIUS

And now, Laertes, [what’s the news with you?

You told us of some suit. What is’t Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane

And lose your voice.] What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

LAERTES

My dread lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

To show my duty in your coronation.

KING CLAUDIUS

Have you your father’s leave? What says Polonius?

LORD POLONIUS

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

KING CLAUDIUS

Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine;

But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son –

HAMLET

(Aside) A little more than kin, and less than kind.

KING CLAUDIUS

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLET

Not so, my lord. I am too much in the sun.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vailéd lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou knowest ’tis common. All that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.

HAMLET

Ay, madam, it is common.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?

HAMLET

‘Seems’, madam? Nay it is. I know not ‘seems.’

’Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

Nor customary suits of solemn black,

Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected ’haviour of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,

That can denote me truly. These indeed ‘seem’;

For they are actions that a man might play.

But I have that within which passeth show –

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

KING CLAUDIUS

’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,

To give these mourning duties to your father.

But, you must know your father lost a father.

That father lost, lost his; and the survivor bound

In filial obli...