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Act 5 scene 1-2
Updated: 5/20/2020
Act 5 scene 1-2
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Storyboard Text

  • Her obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warranty. Her death was doubtful
  • No more be done.
  • Must there no more be done?
  • What ceremony else?
  • Lay her i' th' earth,And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlishpriest, A ministering angel shall my sister beWhen thou liest howling.
  • That is Laertes, a very noble youth, mark.
  • What, the fair Ophelia?
  • Sweets to the sweet. Farewell! I hoped thou shouldst have been myHamlet‟s wife.I thought thy bride-bed to have decked,sweet maid,And not have strewed thy grave.
  • Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,T' o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head Of blue Olympus
  • What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis, whose phrase ofsorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makesthem standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane
  • Hamlet, Hamlet!
  • Gentleman!
  • Thou pray‟st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat,For though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thyhand.
  • Pluck them asunder.
  • Good my lord, be quiet.
  • O my son, what theme?
  • Why, I will fight with him upon thisthemeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.
  • I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothersCould not with all their quantity of loveMake up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
  • O, he is mad, Laertes.
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