HEE-Hamlet

BY

Billy Bob Shakes

Ack 1

Scene 1
Bernardo: Who's thar?
Francisco: No, stan' an' show yo'seff.
Bernardo: Long live th' kin'! Fry mah hide!
Francisco: Bernardo?
Bernardo: Yessuh.
Francisco: Yer right on time.
Bernardo: It's midnight; hoof it to bed, Francisco.
Francisco: Thank yo'. Its mighty cold, an' ah's upset.
Bernardo: Has it been quiet out?
Francisco: ah have see nothin'.
Bernardo: Goodnight! Fry mah hide! Eff'n yo' does meet Ho'atio an' Marcellus, which come af'er mah watch, tell them t'helter-skelter.
Francisco: ah reckon ah hear them, dawgone it. Stop! Fry mah hide! Who's thar?
Ho'atio: ah's a friend, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Marcellus: An' royal t'th' Dane.
Francisco: ah give yo' finenight.
Marcellus: Goo'bye, honess soldier. Who has relieved yo'?
Francisco: Bernardo takes mah place. Goodnight.
Marcellus: Howdy! Fry mah hide! Bernardo! Fry mah hide!
Bernardo: Say- Is Ho'atio thar?
Ho'atio: Some of him, dawgone it.
Bernardo: Howdy, Ho'atio. Howdy, fine Marcellus.
Marcellus: Has this hyar thin' appeared tonight?
Bernardo: ah have see nothin'.
Marcellus: Ho'atio says it's not true. We've see it twice, but he has not. He will stay an' watch wif us so he knows it's true.
Ho'atio: Be quiet. It won't appear.
Bernardo: Sit down a spell, an' less scare yo'.
Ho'atio: Okay, less set down, as enny fool kin plainly see. Bernardo, tell us th' sto'y.
Bernardo: When th' star wess of th' No'th Pole made it's way t'thet part of th' sky, at 1 A.M.-
Marcellus: Look! Fry mah hide! It's hyar! Fry mah hide!
Bernardo: In th' same figger as th' daid kin'.
Marcellus: Speak t'it, Ho'atio.
Bernardo: Does it look like th' kin', Ho'atio?
Ho'atio: So't of. It to'ments me wif fear an' wonner.
Bernardo: Speak t'it.
Marcellus: Quesshun it, Ho'atio.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation is it thet wonners this hyar time of night in th' fo'm of our last kin' of Denmark? Speak t'me!
Marcellus: It is offended, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Bernardo: See, it walks away! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Stay! Fry mah hide! Speak t'me! ah's tellyng yo' t'speak! Fry mah hide!
Marcellus: It is gone an' will not answer.
Bernardo: Is yo' okay, Ho'atio? Yo' tremble an' look pale. Whut in tarnation does yo' reckon of this?
Ho'atio: ah w'dn't haf believed this hyar if it wasn't in front of mah own eyes.
Marcellus: Is it not like th' kin'?
Ho'atio: He is th' kin' as yer yo'seff. He wars th' same armo' as he did in th' battle aginst th' Polish.
Marcellus: He has gone by our watch twice befo'e wif thet same military
stride. Ho'atio: In mah opinion, thar is some peekoolyar thin's in our state of Denmark. Shet mah mouth!
Marcellus: Tell me, whuffo' is we out hyar twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week as eff'n we is at war? We doesn't even git a Sunday bust.
Ho'atio: ah can, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah knows th' gostip. Our last kin' was in combat wif th' kin' of No'way, Fo'tinbras. These two kin's had a one-on-one combat, an' our Kin' Hamlet was vicko'ious. Fo'tinbras paid wif his life an' his country. His son, Prince Fo'tinbras, was inraged by th' outcome an' raised an armah of th' homeless t'fight us fo' his country back. Shet mah mouth!
Bernardo: ah agree!
Ho'atio: A speck of dest kin trouble th' mind's eye. When Julius Caesar was murdered, ev'rythin' was ill; ghosts were not at ress an' graves were restless, an'- Stay, ghost! Fry mah hide! Eff'n yo' kin speak, tell me. Eff'n ah can he'p yer restlessness, tell me. Eff'n yo' knows th' future, please speak! Fry mah hide! Tell me whuffo' yer hyar! Fry mah hide! Do yo' haf buried treasure somewhar? Stop it, Marcellus.
Marcellus: Shall ah try t'kill?
Ho'atio: Yessuh, eff'n it moves.
Bernardo: It's hyar! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: It's hyar! Fry mah hide!
Marcellus: It's gone! We is mockin' it by usin' violence. It's invulnerable, like th' air.
Bernardo: It was about t'speak when th' cock crew.
Ho'atio: At th' cock's crew, th' spirit disappeared, cuss it all t' tarnation. It will soon be mo'nin'.
Marcellus: No spirit walks eff'n th' cock crows all night.
Ho'atio: I've heard thet befo'e an' ah sure does believe it. Less hoof it now an' tell yo'ng Hamlet about whut we haf see. It is our duty.
Marcellus: ah knows exackly whar t'find him, dawgone it.

Ack 1

Scene 2

Kin': Even though mah brother Hamlet is daid, ah's mighty so'rowful, ah reckon. We sh'd all grieve in his passin'. Th' queen has now taken mah han' in marriage, an' we thank yo' all fo' acceppin' sech a hasty marriage. Now th' Yo'ng Fo'tinbras, who does not favo' us mighty much, may dream thet our state is fallin' apart on account o' of th' kin''s recent death. This hyar is th' reason fo' sech a quick marriage t'th' widowed queen, as enny fool kin plainly see. He has not less fo'git about th' recent lost of his lan' wif all th' messages he has sent us. We haf writ a message t'th' uncle of Fo'tinbras, who is old an' sick, hain't heard of his nephew's plan, as enny fool kin plainly see. Th' message tells him t'stop Fo'tinbras' intenshuns. Co'nelius an' Voltiman', ah give yo' this hyar letter t'delivah t'th' kin' of No'way. ah only give yo' permisshun t'do this. Don't does ennythin' else. Goo'bye, an' helter-skelter; th' quicker yer th' mo'e loyal yer t'me.
Co'nelius & Voltiman': Okay, we'll go.
Kin': ah believe yo'. Wal, Laertes, whut does yo' want? ah give yo' permisshun t'speak. Shet mah mouth!
Laertes: ah w'd like t'go back t'France. ah have done mah duty hyar an' wish t'return t'mah country. May ah have yer permisshun t'leave?
Kin': Whut in tarnation does yo' reckon of this, Polonius?
Polonius: Yessuh, ah give him mah permisshun. Please aller him t'leave.
Kin': Yo' kin leave Laertes. Do as yo' please. Carpe diem! Fry mah hide! An' now Hamlet, mah son-
Hamlet: We may be related, but no one said ah have t'like yo'.
Kin': Whuffo' is yo' still gloomah?
Hamlet: Oh no, mah lo'd; ah's mighty happy.
Queen: Hamlet, please git rid of yer gloominess. Open yer eyes an' look beyond yer Pappy's death. Yo' knows all thet lives muss die.
Hamlet: Yessuh, yer right.
Queen: Eff'n yo' knows this, then whuffo' does yo' seem so upset?
Hamlet: ah do not seem upset ah's upset.
Kin': It's nice of yo' t'mourn yer Pappy. Ev'rybody loses a Pappy, but t'mourn th' way yo' does is unmanly an' ungodly. Yer ackin' like a mo'on in showin' this hyar much grief. Ev'ryone will eventually die. It's a fault t'hevvin. ah love yo' as a son an' yo' knows yer next in line t'be kin'. To hoof it back t'Wittenberg'd be aginst our will, ah reckon. Will yo' stay wif us? Please stay wif us, Hamlet, our most beloved an' favo'ite son, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Queen: ah's prayin' yo' will stay Hamlet. Please does as ah say.
Hamlet: Okay, I'll stay.
Kin': Thet was a mighty lovin' reply. Be like us in Denmark; we is happy of yer stay. Less leave now.
Hamlet: ah's hankerin' t'melt away into nothin'. Whuffo' haf yo', God, made it a law t'commit sueycide? Thar seems t'be no hope in this hyar wo'ld, cuss it all t' tarnation. Dawgone, oh dadburn! Fry mah hide! This hyar evil will spread eff'n it ain't destroyed eemeejutly. Mah Pappy's been daid only two months! No, not even two: mah Pappy was sech an excellent kin'. Mah Pappy is like a god an' mah uncle a chile. An' mah Mammy. Mah Pappy'd does ennythin' fo' mah Mammy. Whuffo' sh'd ah remember? She'd hang on him, an' th' mo'e she hugged an' kissed, th' mo'e she wanted t'hug an' kiss him, dawgone it. Thet frailty- it's a woomin! Fry mah hide! How kin she wears th' same clo'es t'mah Pappy's funeral thet she did t'her own weddin'? Like Niobe, all th' tears she shed, whuffo' didn't mah Mammy grieve a li'l longer? Mah uncle is not mo'e mah Pappy than Hercules is mah Pappy. Th' salt of fake tears still on her face an' swollen eyes, she married up wif. An' in the dawgoned-est wicked speed! Fry mah hide! Nothin' fine comes fum evil, ah reckon. Mah heart is bustin', but ah cain't tell ennyone.
Ho'atio: Howdy, Hamlet.
Hamlet: ah almost fo'got whut yo' look like yo've been gone so long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells!
Ho'atio: ah feel th' same. ah will allus be loyal t'yo'.
Hamlet: No, no. I'll be yer he'per. Whut in tarnation's happenin' in Wittenberg? Howdy, Marcellus.
Marcellus: Hey, Hamlet.
Hamlet: ah's mighty glad t'see yo'. Good evenin', suh. Whuffo' is yo' hyar?
Ho'atio: We is skippin' skoo.
Hamlet: Thet's not whuffo' yer hyar. Don't lie t'me when ah knows yer not skippin'. Whut in tarnation is yo' pow'ful hyar fo'? By th' way, later on we kin celebrate.
Ho'atio: We came t'see yer Pappy's funeral, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Don't mock me. Yo' came t'see mah Mammy's weddin'.
Ho'atio: It did come quite quickly.
Hamlet: They used th' same money on th' weddin' an' th' funeral! Fry mah hide! ah thunk pigs'd fly befo'e mah Mammy remarried up wif! Fry mah hide! ah reckon ah see mah Pappy.
Ho'atio: Whar, Hamlet?
Hamlet: Only in mah mind, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Ho'atio: ah met him once. He is a mighty nice man, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Hamlet: Yessuh, jest a man, but ah won't meet a man like him agin.
Ho'atio: Hamlet, ah reckon ah sar him last night.
Hamlet: Sar? Who?
Ho'atio: Hamlet, th' kin' yer Pappy.
Hamlet: Mah Pappy?
Ho'atio: Chill fo' a second, Hamlet, an' let me explain whut these juntlemen sar.
Hamlet: Helter-skelter let me hear.
Ho'atio: Fo' two nights at th' middle of th' night, we sar a figger yer Pappy in a complete sueyt of armo'. He has walked in front of us three times. These min were mighty surprised an' so scared they c'd not speak. Shet mah mouth! They told me in secret, an' on th' third night ah watched wif them, dawgone it. They were co'reck. ah sar th' ghost. It was yer Pappy.
Hamlet: Whar was this?
Marcellus: On th' platfo'm whar we watched, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Ju speak t'it?
Ho'atio: ah did; it didn't answer. It started t'speak, but th' cock crowed an' he disappeared, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Thet's mighty peekoolyar.
Ho'atio: It is mighty true an' we thunk it was our duty t'tell yo'.
Hamlet: Yessuh, yo' sh'd, but this hyar troubles me. Do yo' watch tonight?
Marcellus & Bernardo: Yessuh, we does.
Hamlet: Was he armed?
Marcellus & Bernardo: Yessuh, he was armed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Fum haid t'toe?
Marcellus & Bernardo: Yessuh, fum haid t'toe.
Hamlet: Wal, did yo' see his face?
Ho'atio: Yessuh, Hamlet, he wo'e his beavah up.
Hamlet: Was he angry?
Ho'atio: His face was sad rather than angry.
Hamlet: Pale o' red-faced?
Ho'atio: Pale, mighty pale.
Hamlet: Did he fix his eyes upon yo'?
Ho'atio: Most of th' time.
Hamlet: ah sh'd haf been thar.
Ho'atio: Yo''d haf been amazed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Yessuh, ah w'd have. How long did it stay?
Ho'atio: It stayed about 100 seconds.
Marcellus & Bernardo: Longer, longer.
Ho'atio: Not as ah sar it.
Hamlet: Was his bard gray?
Ho'atio: Jest as it was in real life. A mighty salt an' pepper colo'.
Hamlet: ah will watch tonight, an' mebbe it will walk agin.
Ho'atio: ah's sho'nuff it will, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Eff'n it is mah Pappy's shape, ah will speak t'it. Eff'n yo' haftald no one of this, corntinue t'hold yer silence. ah will meet yo' on this hyar platfo'm at 11:00 P.M. o' 12:00 midnight.
All: Our duty is t'yo'.
Hamlet: Good night until then, as enny fool kin plainly see. Mah Pappy's spirit - in armo'! Fry mah hide! Sumpin is not right in Denmark. Shet mah mouth! ah sense foul play. Someone will slip-up an' create t'other foul deed an' ah will ketch him, dawgone it.

Ack 1

Scene 3

Laertes: ah's packed an' ready t'leave. Goo'bye. Instead of sleepin', write me letters eff'n th' ships corntinue t'sail between Denmark an' Englan'.
Ophelia: Don't doubt thet ah will, ah reckon.
Laertes: All of these thin's Hamlet has done makes him immature. He is like a yo'ng violet an' will on overwhelm yo' now, but his love will not last long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells!
Ophelia: Whuffo'?
Laertes: Don't reckon of it ennymo'e. Yo' will grow up an' mature. Nothin' will cornvince yo' thet he don't love yo', but yo' muss fear him on account o' he is a prince. Princes kin does whut evah they want. He is boun' by status t'do whut a prince has t'do. Denmark depends on his choices, an' even his choices is restricked, cuss it all t' tarnation. Eff'n yo' believe Hamlet, he will betray yo'. Don't believe him jest on account o' he is th' prince. Decide whut is mo'e impo'tant t'yo': losin' yer dignity an' virginity o' keepin' yer dignity an' yer virginity. Even a naked woomin dancin' in th' moonlight don't haf virtues. Yo' kin't let him haf sex wif yo' befo'e yer pow'ful ready. Yo' kin does whut yer hankerin' to, but it's yo'th's nature t'rebel, ah reckon.
Ophelia: ah's a-gonna lissen t'yo', mah fine brother, but doesn't be critical, ah reckon.
Laertes: Of course, ah will be fine. ah have t'go, an' hyar comes mah Pappy. Double graces is fine.
Polonius: Whuffo' isn't yo' on yer ship yet? Yo' need t'go. Take mah advice. Don't say ev'rythin' yo' reckon. Don't does ev'rythin' yo' reckon. Be origeenal: be yo'seff. Keep friends thet yo' kin trest. Be careful of noo acquaintances. Don't fight wif ennyone, but eff'n yo' hafta fight, yo' had bess win, as enny fool kin plainly see. Lissen, an' doesn't speak all th' time. Take their opinion, but doesn't judge them on their opinion, as enny fool kin plainly see. Don't on overspend on accesso'ies. Dress nicely, not richly. Varmints judge yo' by whut yo' war. French is snotty wif dress, so remember yer stature. Neifer a bo'rower no' a lenner be. Eff'n yo' loan money, yo'll lose friends. Eff'n yo' bo'row money, yo' won't manage mighty fine. Be true t'yo'seff. Eff'n yer true t'yo'seff, yo' will be true t'others. Figger of this hyar ev'ryday an' yo'll does it ev'ryday.
Laertes: Thank yo' fo' yer advice, Pappy. Now ah muss leave.
Polonius: Yo' muss leave.
Laertes: Goo'bye, Ophelia, an' remember whut ah have told yo'.
Ophelia: It is locked in mah memo'y an' only yo' an' ah knows of it.
Laertes: Farefine.
Polonius: Whut in tarnation did he say t'yo'?
Ophelia: Sumpin about Hamlet.
Polonius: Hamlet has told me thet he has see yo' in private quite a bit. ah muss warn yo' of him, dawgone it. Yo' muss tell me th' truth.
Ophelia: All he has done is offered me presents.
Polonius: Bull! Fry mah hide! Yo' speak like a yo'ng gal in a fake relashunship. Do yo' believe his love?
Ophelia: ah doesn't knows whut t'reckon.
Polonius: I'll larn yo' whut t'reckon. Yo' believed Hamlet an' his gif's of love, which is all not true. Eff'n yo' corntinue t'see him an' be wif him, yo' will look like a fool, ah reckon.
Ophelia: He has been hono'able.
Polonius: Yessuh, fashion yo' may call it. Helter-skelter up helter-skelter up.
Ophelia: He has swo'n thet he pow'ful does love me.
Polonius: Hamless promises isn't true! Don't be aroun' Hamlet so much. Eff'n he axs t'speak t'yo' alone, doesn't aller him, dawgone it. Hamlet kin does mo'e than yo' kin, but thet don't mean thet yo' haf all th' rights he has. Marry up wifin' Hamlet'd only lead t'betrayal, ah reckon. Come, we muss leave.
Ophelia: ah will obey.

Ack 1

Scene 4
Hamlet: It is mighty cold out tonight.
Ho'atio: It is a nippin' an' eager air.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation time is it?
Ho'atio: It's almost twelve.
Hamlet: No, it's past.
Ho'atio: Really? ah didn't hear th' clock. Shet mah mouth! It nears th' time when th' ghost walked, cuss it all t' tarnation. Whut in tarnation does thet sploshun mean Hamlet?
Hamlet: Th' kin' has had a six packin' party an' gives a toast. He will six pack until he kin six pack no mo'e.
Ho'atio: Is it a cestom?
Hamlet: Yessuh, it is a cestom, dawgone it. ah believe thet it is mo'e of a cestom fo' him not t'six pack. Varmints of other nashunalities make fun of Denmark fo' this. They call us pigs an' drunks. Drinkin' does make a bad influence on us. It is specked fo' a li'l six packin' t'occur, but it takes away fum th' soul, ah reckon. On account o' nature kinnot choose its origeen, we kinnot he'p this. Even a varmint who has virtues kin become bad fum one mistake. Th' dram of evil doth all th' noble substance of a doubt, t'his own scan'al, ah reckon.
Ho'atio: Look, Hamlet, hyar comes th' ghost! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Lo'd he'p us! Is yo' fine o' evil; fum hevvin o' hell? Is yo' pow'ful mah Pappy? Don't make me talk in igno'ance! Answer me! Whuffo' haf yo' come back? ah sar yo' buried, cuss it all t' tarnation. Whut in tarnation c'd this hyar mean? Whuffo' does yo' walk th' night? Say, whuffo' is this? Whut in tarnation sh'd we do?
Ho'atio: He be hankerin' t'be alone wif yo'.
Marcellus: Don't hoof it wif it.
Ho'atio: By no means, Hamlet.
Hamlet: It will not speak; then ah will foller it.
Ho'atio: Don't Hamlet.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation is th' fear? Mah life is of li'l value. Eff'n it waves agin ah will foller it.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation eff'n it beckons yo' t'th' sea an' some other fo'm on overcomes yo' an' draws yo' into madness? Whut in tarnation eff'n yo' were on over hyper an' killed yo'seff?
Hamlet: It still waves t'me- ah will foller it.
Marcellus: Yo' may not go, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Let hoof it of me.
Ho'atio: Yer not permitted t'go.
Hamlet: This hyar is mah fate, an' ah will be as strong as a lion, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah will kill yo' eff'n yo' doesn't let me go.
Ho'atio: He is too anxious.
Marcellus: Less foller him; we doesn't hafta lissen t'him eff'n he don't lissen t'me.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation'd come eff'n we follered?
Marcellus: Sumpin is rotten in th' state of Denmark. Shet mah mouth!
Ho'atio: Hevvin will direck it.
Marcellus: No, less foller him, dawgone it.

Ack 1

Scene 5

Hamlet: Whar is yo' gwine? Speak; I'll hoof it no further.
Ghost: Mark me.
Hamlet: ah will, ah reckon.
Ghost: It's almost time fo' me t'return t'Purgato'y.
Hamlet: Alas, pore ghost! Fry mah hide!
Ghost: Don't pity me, but lissen t'whut ah have t'say.
Hamlet: Speak; ah's ready t'lissen.
Ghost: So art thou t'revenge, when thou shall hear.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation?
Ghost: ah's yer Pappy's spirit, doomed fo' a sartin period t'walk th' night, an' fo' th' day cornfined at a post in Hell, ah reckon. ah's a ghost until mah deeds is made right. ah cannot tell yo' whuffo' ah's a ghost, but ah can tell yo' a sto'y. Eff'n yo' love me, yo' will avenge mah death.
Hamlet: O God! Fry mah hide!
Ghost: Revenge his foul an' unnatural murder.
Hamlet: Murder! Fry mah hide!
Ghost: Murder most foul, peekoolyar, an' unnatural, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Tell me quickly so ah can avenge yer Pappy's death.
Ghost: ah find yo' ready. Don't fo'git whut ah's about t'tell yo'. This hyar is how th' sto'y goes: ah was sleepin' in mah o'chard an' was bitten by a snake. Th' serpent thet took mah Pappy's life now wars mah crown, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Hamlet: O mah prophetic soul! Fry mah hide! Mah uncle!
Ghost: He sedooced mah wife. ah pow'ful loved her an' upset me dearly. She fell in love of mah brother who gave hyar gif's, but mah gif's were way better than his. She was virtuous, an' she fell outta mah bed into his an' became garbage. ah muss helter-skelter; ah sense mo'nin' is near. Sleepin' in mah o'chard, like ah allus does in th' af'ernoon, mah brother stole a six pack of cursed hebenon in a vase, an' poured it down mah ear. Th' effeck was almost instant; mah hide became blotched wif so'es an' mah blood turned sour. By his crime, ah was not given mah last rights. Wif all mah impuffickions upon mah haid, ah was sent t'Purgato'y. O ho'rible, most ho'rible! Eff'n yo' git th' urge t'kill yer Mammy at enny time doesn't; let God so't her out. Whutevah yo' does, doesn't let them sleep togither. ah urge yo' t'avenge mah death. It is nearly dawn, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah muss leave.
Hamlet: Okay, ah have see hevvin an' earth; is ah seein' hell? Inner stren'th, hold me up. ah's rememberin' only th' thin's th' ghost has told me. ah will keep this hyar info'mashun t'mahse'f an' will separeete it fum all t'other info'mashun ah know. So, Uncle, thar yer. Now t'mah wo'd: it is 'Adieu, adieu! Fry mah hide! an' remember me.' ah have swo'n it.
Ho'atio & Marcellus: Hamlet, Hamlet! Fry mah hide!
Marcellus: Lo'd Hamlet! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Hevvins secure him! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: So be it! Fry mah hide!
Marcellus: Illo, ho, ho, mah lo'd! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Hillo, ho, ho, fella! Fry mah hide! Come, bird, come.
Marcellus: How is yo', Hamlet?
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation happened between yo' an' th' ghost?
Hamlet: Wonnerful noos!
Ho'atio: Good, cuss it all t' tarnation. Tell it.
Hamlet: No, yo' will reveal it.
Ho'atio: Not I, mah lo'd, by hevvin.
Marcellus: No' I, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: How kin ah trest yo'?
Ho'atio & Marcellus: Yessuh, by hevvin, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Thar's a villain in Denmark but he is an arrant knave.
Ho'atio: It don't need a ghost t'tell us thet.
Hamlet: Wal, yer right. Goo'bye. Git do yer business an' I'll hoof it pray.
Ho'atio: These is wild an' whirlin' wo'ds, Hamlet.
Hamlet: ah's so'ry they offend yo'.
Ho'atio: Thar's no offense, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Yessuh, thar is much offense. Havin' spoken t'th' ghost, ah knows he is honest. ah knows whut he said an' thass fo' me t'knows an' fo' yo' t'find out. Gimme one request.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation is it, mah lo'd? We will, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Don't tell ennyone of th' ghost yo' haf see.
Ho'atio & Marcellus: We will not.
Hamlet: True, but swears to it.
Ho'atio: In faif, ah cain't.
Marcellus: Neifer kin I, Hamlet, by faif.
Hamlet: Swears upon mah swo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Marcellus: We haf already swo'n, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Then it won't hurt t'swears upon mah swo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Ghost: Swar.
Hamlet: Wal, is we trestwo'thy?
Ho'atio: Propose th' oath, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Nevah t'speak of this hyar thet yo' haf see, swears by mah swo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Ghost: Swar.
Hamlet: Hyar an' ev'rywhar? Then we'll move on over thar. Come hyar, men, an' lay yer han's upon mah swo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Ghost: Swar.
Hamlet: Wal said, old man! Fry mah hide! How fast kin yo' wawk? Less move! Helter-skelter! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: O day an' night, but this hyar is mighty peekoolyar! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: It is peekoolyar, an' ah welcome thet. Thar is mo'e thin's in hevvin an' earth, Ho'atio, than is dreamt of in yer philosophy. ah will ack crazy th' next couple of days, an' eff'n yo' see me, play along, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Don't tell ennyone ah's ackin' an' say ah's crazy.
Ghost: Swar.
Hamlet: Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! Fry mah hide! We is all friends an' haf swo'n t'mah swo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation. Do not bust thet swar. Now less leave.

Ack 2

Scene 1

Polonius: Give Laertes this hyar money an' these notes, Reynaldo.
Reynaldo: ah will, ah reckon.
Polonius: Yo' sh'd does a fine job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. Talk t'his friends befo'e yo' see him, dawgone it. Git t'knows whut others reckon about him, dawgone it.
Reynaldo: ah aimed to, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Polonius: Find out who his friends fum Denmark are. Find out how they live, whar they live, an' how much money they spend, cuss it all t' tarnation. Talk t'varmints aroun' town an' try t'find out how much they knows about Laertes.
Reynaldo: Yessuh, mighty fine, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Polonius: Yo' may tell lies about him, but doesn't say thin's thet will dishono' him, dawgone it. Tell small lies.
Reynaldo: Like gamblin'?
Polonius: Yessuh, o' six packin', fencin', swarin', quarrelin', o' drabbin': yo' may hoof it thet far.
Reynaldo: Polonius, thet'd dishono' him, dawgone it.
Polonius: Thet's not mah meanin'. Say some of them but doesn't say thet he's who'in' aroun'. Make th' lie soun' like an ev'ryday bad thin'.
Reynaldo: But, mah lo'd-
Polonius: Do yo' knows how yo' will does this?
Reynaldo: Yessuh, Polonius, ah knows whut ah's a-gonna does.
Polonius: Yessuh, suh, ketch mah drif': as yo' lie t'this varmint, make sho'nuff thet this hyar varmint yo' lie t'tells th' truth. This hyar man kin call yo' friend o' juntlemen, but be absolutely sartin he tells yo' th' truth.
Reynaldo: Mighty fine, Polonius.
Polonius: An' then, suh, he does this- he does- whut was ah about t'say? By th' mass, ah was about t'say sumpin: whar did ah leave off at?
Reynaldo: At 'closes in th' consequence' at 'friend o' so,' an' 'juntleman, as enny fool kin plainly see.'
Polonius: At 'closes in th' consequence,' yessuh! Fry mah hide! In addishun, by tellyng lies, we will ketch him in th' middle of doin' sumpin wrong, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! ah's doin' this hyar wif bess intenshuns. ah's hankerin' yo' t'be bias aginst him an' find th' truth by lyin'. Ju git ev'rythin' ah said?
Reynaldo: Mah lo'd, ah have.
Polonius: May God be wif yo', an' farefine.
Reynaldo: Good mah lo'd! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: Be sho'nuff t'watch him witcher own eyes.
Reynaldo: ah will, ah reckon.
Polonius: An' let him does whut he be hankerin'.
Reynaldo: Yessuh, suh.
Polonius: Farefine! Fry mah hide! Oh howdy, Ophelia! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnation's th' matter?
Ophelia: ah have been frightened! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: How haf yo' been frightened?
Ophelia: ah was sewin' in mah closet when Lo'd Hamlet, filthy an' his clothin' astray, was pale as his shirt, his knees were knockin' etch other, an' he looked so bad thet he c'dn't talk t'me.
Polonius: Mad fo' yer love?
Ophelia: ah do not know, but ah fear it.
Polonius: Whut in tarnation did he say?
Ophelia: He grabbed me by th' wrist an' started touchin' mah face as eff'n he was observin' it fo' a paintin'. Then he bobbed his haid up an' down like a crazy varmint'd does. He finally let me hoof it an' walked out th' dore wif his face facin' me; his eyes fixed upon mah face.
Polonius: He's gone love crazy. Love will make yo' does th' weirdess thin's. Have yo' given him harsh wo'ds lately?
Ophelia: No, but ah did as yo' told me. ah denied his access t'me.
Polonius: Thet's whuffo' he is mad, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah wish ah had thunk mo'e of whut ah was tellyng yo'. It's common fo' old varmints not t'reckon through thin's as a yo'ng varmint'd. We muss tell th' kin' befo'e Hamlet hurts hisse'f. Mo'e grief t'hide than hate t'utter love. Come.

Ack 3

Scene 1

Kin': Have yo' discovahed th' real reason fo' Hamlet's craziness?
Rosencrantz: He does cornfess thet he is an' will not speak about it.
Guildenstern: It was hard t'talk t'him, dawgone it.
Queen: Was he excited t'see yo'?
Rosencrantz: Most like a juntleman, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Guildenstern: But wif much difficulty.
Rosencrantz: He was difficult t'talk to; like talkin' t'a brick wall, ah reckon.
Queen: Ju does some of yer pastimes?
Rosencrantz: He was excited at th' arrival of th' players.
Polonius: Mighty true.
Kin': ah see thet he is happy an' ah's happy. Encourage him t'be happy about th' play.
Rosencrantz: We will, ah reckon.
Kin': We need t'leave an' make it look like an accident thet Ophelia is hyar.
Queen: ah will obey. An' fo' yer part, Ophelia, ah do wish thet yer booty is th' reason Hamlet is mad, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah hope yo' will brin' him back t'no'mal, ah reckon.
Ophelia: Ma'am, ah hope it does.
Polonius: Ophelia, yo' will walk hyar. - Do it slowly so we kin hide. - Read this hyar book an' show yer loneliness. - We does bad thin's fo' fine reasons, Ophelia.
Kin': Thet is true! ah can't say whut is on mah mind, an' ah can't fix th' mistake thet ah made.
Polonius: ah hear him a-comin'. Let's leave, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: To be, o' not t'be, thet is th' quesshun: whether it is nobler in th' mind t'suffer in life o' t'end it all, ah reckon. To die, t'sleep - no mo'e; an' in death thar is no mo'e. Ev'ryone may wish fine thin's t'happen but it will not allus happen, as enny fool kin plainly see. To die, t'sleep; t'sleep an' dream nicely; thar is th' dud, cuss it all t' tarnation. Fo' in thet sleep of death whut dreams may come, when we haf lef' this hyar body, we git peace. Thar is th' respeck thet one gits fo' livin' through life. Fo' who'd bar th' whips an' sco'ns of time, th' oppresso''s wrong, th' proud man's rudeness, th' pangs of despised love, th' law of delay, th' insult of office, an' th' spurns thet patient merit of th' unwo'thy takes, when he hisse'f might his death make wif a bare dagger? Who'd bar this hyar suffrage in a wary life? Ev'ryone is scared of whut undiscovahed terrain comes af'er death on account o' no traveler has returned, cuss it all t' tarnation. This hyar lowers one's cornfidence. Ev'ryone is a coward on account o' ev'ryone fears death. We tend t'reckon thin's is scarier than they pow'ful are. Someone may talk themselves outta doin' whut they were origeenally a-gonna does. - Th' fair Ophelia! Fry mah hide! Yer mah life.
Ophelia: How is yo'?
Hamlet: Fine, thank yo'.
Ophelia: ah have some thin's of yourn.
Hamlet: No, not me; ah nevah gave yo' them.
Ophelia: Yo' knows yo' did, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah's givin' them back on account o' their affeckshuns is gone. Please take them back. Shet mah mouth!
Hamlet: Ha ha! Fry mah hide! Is yo' a virgin?
Ophelia: Excuse me?
Hamlet: Is yo' honest?
Ophelia: Whut in tarnation does yo' mean?
Hamlet: How kin yo' still be a virgin when yer so right purdy?
Ophelia: Whut in tarnation does booty hafta does wif virginity?
Hamlet: Purdy varmints will eventually give in, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah did love yo' once.
Ophelia: ah believe yo' did, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Yo' sh'dn't haf believed me.
Ophelia: ah was deceived, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Git to a nunnery. Whuffo''d yo' be a breeder of sinners? ah's honest, but ah have done bad thin's. ah's proud, revengeful an' ambitious. We is all arrant knaves, does not believe enny of us. Git to a nunnery. Whar is yer Pappy?
Ophelia: At home, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Eff'n yo''re a-gonna play th' fool, does it in yer own house.
Ophelia: He'p him, dear lo'd! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Eff'n yo' git married up wif, ah will give yo' th' plague as yer weddin' gif'. Marry up wif a fool when yer ready to. Wise min w'd see right through yo'. Git to a nunnery quickly. Farefine.
Ophelia: O hevvinly powers, resto'e him! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Them who wears too much make-up is not as they seem, dawgone it. Yo' joke, yo' don't make sense, an' yo' baby-talk. Shet mah mouth! Yo' nickname God's creatures, an' yo' make yer lackin' yer igno'ance. ah will speak no mo'e. No one fum this hyar point on will marry up wif; eff'n they is already married up wif, they shall live thet way. Git to a nunnery, go.
Ophelia: He's gone an' wif it his courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, swo'd, an' his right t'th' thrown, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah feel like a wretch. ah believed all of yer sweet wo'ds. ah don't believe we kin git him back! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Love? This hyar didn't look like love, but it wasn't like madness. ah reckon he will be dangerous. He will be shipped t'Englan' t'colleck unpaid taxes. Mebbe eff'n he is away fo' a spell he will straighten up. Polonius, whut does yo' reckon?
Polonius: Okay, ah agree, but ah reckon it's still love. Come, Ophelia. Yo' don't need t'tell us whut Hamlet has said, we heard it all, ah reckon. Do whut yo' wish, but af'er th' play.

Ack 3

Scene 2

Hamlet: Speak th' speech as ah pronounced it t'yo'. Don't on overack an' don't unner ack. ah cannot stan' it when varmints fo'git a line o' say th' wrong thin', which aren't enny fine 'cept fo' dumb shows an' noise. ah will haf a varmint whipped fo' on overdoin' Termagant. It on overdoes th' hero. Please avoid it.
Fust Player: Yessuh, suh.
Hamlet: It'd be nice fo' yo' t'be honest. Try t'be natural, an' make it flow. Be modest. Eff'n yo' on overack o' unner ack, even eff'n it makes simple varmints laugh, yo' will grieve. ah have see players does this, an' heard speckato's praise of it. Some haf done it fine.
Fust Player: ah hope we part on fine terms.
Hamlet: Oh, change it. Let yer back-ups only speak their lines. Let them make varmints laugh. Eff'n they talk too much than needed, it will show no ambishun.
How is yo', mah lo'd? Will th' kin' come t'see th' play?
Polonius: Yessuh, an' th' queen too.
Hamlet: Helter-skelter. Will yo' two he'p helter-skelter them?
Rosencrantz an' Guildenstern: We will, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Howdy, Ho'atio! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Hyar ah's, atchar service.
Hamlet: Yer not jest a man thet lissens t'me.
Ho'atio: Dear lo'd-
Hamlet: I'm not flatterin' yo'. Whut in tarnation does ah gain fum yo'? Whuffo' sh'd ah be nice t'th' pore? Whuffo' sh'd th' pore be flattered? Let th' hypocrite talk about whut he be hankerin'. Do yo' hear me? She picked yo' above all others. Yo' don't suffer, but haf been rewarded, cuss it all t' tarnation. Fo'tune blesses varmints wif common sense. They is not played by Fo'tune's finger. Gimme a man who is not passhunate an' ah will tell him how ah feel jest as ah's tellyng yo'. Thar is a play tonight befo'e th' kin'; one scene of it comes near th' circumference which ah have told t're-enack mah Pappy's death. ah hope thet when th' scene is perfo'med mah uncle will show some sign, as enny fool kin plainly see. Eff'n he is guilty, then we knows th' ghost is right. Otherwise it is dadburned, cuss it all t' tarnation. Take note of his facial expresshuns, on account o' mah eyes imagine thin's. We will see how he acks.
Ho'atio: Wal, eff'n he doesn't show one flinch, ah will pay th' thef'. ah will does mah best.
Hamlet: They is a-comin' t'th' play. ah muss be idle. Git find yo' a place.
Kin': How is yo', Hamlet?
Hamlet: ah's as fine as a chameleon; eatin' air as fine as promises. Yo' kinnot feed other animals so.
Kin': ah don't knows whut yo' mean, as enny fool kin plainly see. These wo'ds is not mine.
Hamlet: No, not mine now. Polonius, yo' played once at th' unyversity, right?
Polonius: ah did, an' was told ah was an excellent acko'.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation did yo' ack out?
Polonius: ah acked in Julius Caesar. ah was killed in th' Capitol by Brutus.
Hamlet: It was a brute part of him t'kill so capital a ca'f thar. Is th' players ready?
Rosencrantz: Yessuh, they wait on yo'.
Queen: Come hyar, Hamlet, an' set by me.
Hamlet: No, Mammy, ah w'd rather set har.
Polonius: Oh! Fry mah hide! Ju hear thet?
Hamlet: Lady, kin ah lie in yer lap?
Ophelia: No.
Hamlet: ah mean, upon yer lap?
Ophelia: Yessuh, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Do yo' reckon ah meant country matters?
Ophelia: ah reckon nothin'.
Hamlet: Thet's a fair thunk t'lie between a maid's legs.
Ophelia: Whut in tarnation?
Hamlet: Nothin'.
Ophelia: Yer merry.
Hamlet: Who, me?
Ophelia: Yessuh.
Hamlet: God, yer only comedian, as enny fool kin plainly see. Whut in tarnation does a man does if he isn't marry up wif? Look how cheerful mah Mammy looks an' it's only been two hours on account o' mah Pappy died, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Ophelia: No, about two months, mah lo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: So long? No, let th' devil wears black, an' I'll wears a sueyt of sables. Oh, hevvins! Die two months ago an' still not fo'gotten? Then thar's hope a great man's memo'y may outlive his life ha'f a year. But, by our lady, he muss build churches, o' else shall he suffer not reckonin' on, wif th' hobby-houn'dog, whose epitaph is 'Fo' O, fo' O, th' hobby-houn'dog is fo'got.'
Ophelia: Whut in tarnation does thet mean?
Hamlet: Wal, this hyar is cowardly mischief; it's pow'ful jest mischief.
Ophelia: It is like th' show thet be hankerin' argoomnts on over th' play.
Hamlet: We shall knows by this hyar feller. Th' players kinnot keep quiet; they'll tell all, ah reckon.
Ophelia: Will he tell us whut thet pantomime meant?
Hamlet: Yessuh, along wif enny other show yo' show him, dawgone it. Don't be afraid t'show; he won't be ashamed t'tell yo' whut it means.
Ophelia: Yer naughty, yer naughty. I'll watch th' play.
Prologue:

Fo' us fo' our tragedy,
Here stoopin' t'yer clemency,
We beg yer hearin' patiently.

Hamlet: Is this hyar a prologue?
Ophelia: It is brief.
Hamlet: As woomin's love.
Player Kin': Do yo' still love me?
Player Queen: Yessuh, ah still love yo'.
Player Kin': ah muss leave, but ah w'd sacrifice mahse'f fo' yo'.
Player Queen: ah w'd nevah marry up wif t'other even eff'n yo' were daid.
Hamlet: It's jest crap.
Player Queen: Th' only reason ah w'd evah remarry up wif is fo' money, nevah fo' love. ah w'd kill thet husbin eff'n he evah tried t'kiss me.
Player Kin': ah believe yo', an' varmints fo'git their promises. ah don't reckon yo' will remarry up wif, but we will see when we both die.
Player Queen: ah w'd nevah remarry up wif. Eff'n ah become a widow, I'll stay a widow! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: She sh'd bust thet right about now.
Player Kin': Yo' haf swo'n, as enny fool kin plainly see. Now ah will rest.
Player Queen: Sleep, an' we will nevah bust our promises.
Hamlet: Hey Mom, how does yo' like this hyar play?
Queen: Th' lady protests too much, but ah like it.
Hamlet: ah's sho'nuff she will keep her wo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Kin': Haven't yo' heard th' argoomnt?
Hamlet: No, they jest joke, thet's all, ah reckon. Thar's no offense.
Kin': Whut in tarnation is this hyar play called?
Hamlet: 'Th' Mousetrap.' Ironically. It's about a murder in Vienna. Th' Duke's name is Gonzago, an' his wife is Bappista; yo' will see. This hyar is Lucianus, nephew t'th' kin'.
Ophelia: Yo' tell too much of th' sto'y.
Hamlet: ah c'd tell yo' an' yo' lovah apart.
Ophelia: Yer cruel, ah reckon.
Hamlet: ah can make yo' groan, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Ophelia: Will yo' shet up?
Hamlet: Yo' deceive all of yer husbins.
Lucianus: It is th' puffick time. This hyar amount of poison sh'd does it.
Hamlet: He poisons him fo' his money. Yo' sh'd see how he gits th' love of Gonzago's wife.
Ophelia: Th' kin' rises.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation, frightened, is we?
Queen: Is yo' okay?
Polonius: Stop th' play.
Kin': Gimme light! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: Lights!
Hamlet: Wal, let th' frighten deer weep af'er watchin' a scary play. Some muss watch, an' some muss sleep. ah did sech a great job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. ah sh'd be an acko'.
Ho'atio: Yo' didn't does thet great.
Hamlet: ah's too! Fry mah hide! Yo' muss knows thet this hyar wo'ld was dismantled by Jove hisse'f an' now is hyar like a - peacock. Shet mah mouth!
Ho'atio: Yer supposed t'rhyme.
Hamlet: I'll take th' ghost's wo'd fo' it. Ju see th' kin' flinch?
Ho'atio: Yessuh.
Hamlet: When he was talkin' of poison?
Ho'atio: Yessuh.
Hamlet: Sco'e! Let's hear some moosic! Fry mah hide! Th' reco'ders! Eff'n th' kin' doesn't like comedy, then ah don't reckon he liked thet at all, ah reckon. Brin' some moosic! Fry mah hide!
Guildenstern: Hamlet, ah need a wo'd wif yo'.
Hamlet: Tell me ev'rythin'.
Guildenstern: Th' kin'-
Hamlet: Yessuh, how is he?
Guildenstern: He's mad as a weasel in a blender an' in his room, dawgone it.
Hamlet: Wif six packs?
Guildenstern: No, jest wif sickness.
Hamlet: Yer wisdom is greater than a docko''s, an' fo' me t'put him in into cleanliness'd make him sicker.
Guildenstern: Jest talk about whut ah's talkin' about.
Hamlet: ah's, trest me.
Guildenstern: Yer Mammy be hankerin' t'see yo'.
Hamlet: Okay, ah will later.
Guildenstern: No, this hyar is not o'dinary. Yo' need t'go now an' let me hoof it on wif mah business.
Hamlet: ah can't.
Guildenstern: Whuffo' not?
Hamlet: ah will give yo' a whole answer, as yo' comman'. An' about mah Mammy?
Rosencrantz: She says thet yer behavio' strikes her wif amazement an' admirashun.
Hamlet: A son sho'nuff kin astonish a Mammy! Fry mah hide!
Rosencrantz: She be hankerin' t'talk t'yo' in her bedroom, dawgone it.
Hamlet: Okay. Do yo' haf ennythin' else t'say?
Rosencrantz: Yo' did once love me.
Hamlet: ah still does by mah own han's.
Rosencrantz: Whuffo' is yo' ackin' like th' way yer?
Hamlet: ah don't be hankerin' t'say.
Rosencrantz: How kin thet be?
Hamlet: Yessuh, but 'while th' grass grows.' Thar's sumpin wrong wif thet. Th' reco'ders! Let me see one. Whuffo' does yer hankerin' t'knows whuffo' ah ack th' way ah do?
Guildenstern: We need t'know.
Hamlet: ah don't git it. Will yo' play this?
Guildenstern: ah can't.
Hamlet: Come on, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Guildenstern: Believe me, ah can't.
Hamlet: ah wish yo''d.
Guildenstern: ah don't even knows how t'play.
Hamlet: It is as easy as lyin'. Place yer fingers on over these holes an' breath' out hyar.
Guildenstern: ah's not enny fine at it.
Hamlet: Yo''d play me, but yo' kin't play this hyar pipe? Howdy! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: Th' queen be hankerin' t'speak wif yo' now.
Hamlet: Do yo' see thet cloud? It looks like a camel, ah reckon.
Polonius: Yessuh, it looks like a camel, ah reckon.
Hamlet: ah reckon it looks like a weasel, ah reckon.
Polonius: It does look like th' back of a weasel, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Does it look like a whale?
Polonius: Yessuh, it does.
Hamlet: ah will come see mah Mammy. - They play me fo' a fool, ah reckon. - I'm gwine, I'm gwine.
Hamlet: See ya. It is now th' time of night when demons come out. ah muss hoof it to mah Mammy an' be cruel, ah reckon. ah will not hurt her, but scare her wif wo'ds. Wal, ah don't know. It's not right but ah muss does it.

Ack 3

Scene 3

Kin': ah don't like Hamlet, so I'm sendin' him wif yo'. Helter-skelter.
Guildenstern: Okay. It is our duty t'proteck th' citizens.
Rosencrantz: Ev'ry life is boun' t'th' kin'. Tharfo'e, it's his duty t'keep ev'ryone safe. Eff'n th' kin' dies, Denmark dies wif him, dawgone it. Other thin's will occur eff'n yo' die. Th' whole country sighs eff'n th' kin' sighs.
Kin': Helter-skelter.
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern: We will helter-skelter.
Polonius: Hamlet's on his way t'viset his Mammy. ah will hide behind th' tapestry on th' wall, ah reckon. Thar ah will eavesdrop. ah knows she will git t'th' bottom of Hamlet's dilemma. Mammys tend t'not tell ev'rythin' thet goes on between her an' her son, as enny fool kin plainly see. Thet's whuffo' ah need t'be thar.
Kin': Thank yo'. Th' wo'st thin' yo' c'd does is kill yer brother. ah's hankerin' t'pray, but ah can't. Guilt still takes me on over an' ah put prayin' aside. Eff'n mah han's were covahed wif blood, not all th' rain fum hevvin c'd turn them white agin. Whut in tarnation fine is mercy? Whut in tarnation fine is prayer? I'll look t'th' future an' pray fo' sumpin diffrunt. Whut in tarnation sh'd ah pray fo'? Fo'giveness fo' murderin' mah brother? Sh'd ah give up mah crown, mah queen, an' mah ambishun? Others git away wif this, whuffo' kin't I? ah guess whut comes aroun' goes aroun'. Th' mo'e ah tried t'git out, th' mo'e ah git wrapped into it. He'p me, angels! Bow, stubborn an' raised knees, an' heart be sof', so ah can pray.
Hamlet: ah will kill him now, while he is prayin'. Eff'n ah do it now, he goes t'hevvin an' ah's revenged, cuss it all t' tarnation. This hyar is doin' fine fo' Claudius. He took mah Pappy wifout givin' mah Pappy his last rights, an' didn't kill him on a religious day. How mah Pappy is judged now, only God knows. Up, swo'd, on account o' ah's puttin' yo' away. When he is six packin', swarin', o' gamblin' I'll will trip yo' up an' send yo' straight t'hell, ah reckon. Mah Mammy waits so yo' kin pray now, but yo' will die eventually.
Kin': Prayin', but not meanin' it, is no fine.

Ack 3

Scene 4

Polonius: He is a-comin' straight hyar. Be mighty blunt wif him, dawgone it.
Hamlet: Mammy! Fry mah hide!
Queen: ah wish yo' luck, does not fear me. Hide, ah hear him a-comin'.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation's th' matter, Mom?
Queen: Hamlet, yo' haf offended yer Pappy.
Hamlet: Yo' haf offended mah Pappy.
Queen: Oh, hush, yo' haf no room t'talk. Shet mah mouth!
Hamlet: Yo' quesshun wif an evil tongue.
Queen: Whut in tarnation does yo' mean?
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation is th' matter now?
Queen: Have yo' fo'gotten me?
Hamlet: No, not by th' crost haf ah fo'gotten yo'. Yer th' queen, yer husbin's brother's wife. Yer mah Mammy.
Queen: No, then I'll tell yo' who yo' kin an' kin't talk to.
Hamlet: Be quiet an' set down; yo' will not move. Yo' may not hoof it until ah show yo' yer insides.
Queen: Whut in tarnation will yo' do? Is yo' a-gonna murder me? He'p! Fry mah hide! He'p! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: He'p! Fry mah hide! He'p! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Oh? A rat? Daid fo' a ducat! Fry mah hide!
Polonius: I'm daid! Fry mah hide!
Queen: Whut in tarnation haf yo' done?
Hamlet: ah don't know. Is it th' kin'?
Queen: This hyar is mighty bad, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Mighty bad! Fry mah hide! Almost as bad as killin' th' kind an' marry up wifin' th' kin''s brother.
Queen: Killin' a kin'! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Yeah, thet's whut ah said, cuss it all t' tarnation. Yo' idiot, fine-goo'bye. ah thunk yo' were better than t'getcherse'f killed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Sit down an' let me kill yo'. Eff'n wicked cestom wasn't a bad thin' aginst sense!
Queen: Whut in tarnation haf ah done t'make yo' talk rudely t'me?
Hamlet: Yo' haf committed a crime so bad thet it makes marriage vows
wo'thless. Queen: Who, me? Whut in tarnation ack? ah have done none of thet.
Hamlet: Look at this hyar pitcher, th' happiness of two brothers. Kin' Hamlet is like a god, courageous an' hero-like. T'other is like a snake. Kin yo' see? Clearly, Kin' Hamlet is better. Kin yo' see? Yo' haf lest an' not love.
Queen: Stop speakin', Hamlet. ah see black spots upon mah soul, which won't leave me.
Hamlet: But t'live in co'rupshun wif sweet-talkin' an' makin' love in a nasty sty-
Queen: Please speak no mo'e, yo' hurt mah ears! No mo'e, no mo'e.
Hamlet: Bein' a murderer an' a villain is not wo'th bein' a kin' thet rules a vast empire, which he stole fum his own brother! Fry mah hide!
Queen: Stop! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: A kin' of shreds an' patches- Save me hevvinly guards! Is yo' a hevvinly figger.
Queen: He is mad! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Do yer hankerin' yer son t'chide? He has done whut he has been told t'do in time.
Ghost: Yer only hyar fo' mah revenge. He'p yer Mammy. Speak t'her.
Hamlet: How is yo'?
Queen: How kin yo' look into nothin'ness an' say sumpin is thar? Whar is yo' lookin'?
Hamlet: On him! Fry mah hide! Look how he glares atcha wif his pale face! Do not look upon me unless yo' kin't see him, dawgone it.
Queen: Who is yo' speakin' to?
Hamlet: Do yo' see ennythin'?
Queen : Thar's nothin' thar.
Hamlet: Ju hear ennythin'?
Queen: No, jest us.
Hamlet: Look thar! Fry mah hide! He is walkin' away! Fry mah hide! Mah Pappy, in th' same shape as he was in real life. He's walkin' through th' doreway! Fry mah hide!
Queen: Yer imaginin' this hyar figger.
Hamlet: It is not madness thet drives me t'see th' figger. Please cornfess yer sins t'me an' t'hevvin, in o'der t'avoid whut is t'come.
Queen: Yo' haf hurt me inside.
Hamlet: Good night. Do not sleep wif th' kin'. He has th' habits of a devil, ah reckon. Do not be wif him tonight. Good night. ah knows ah will be punished fo' killin' this hyar man, as enny fool kin plainly see. Good night. One mo'e thin'.
Queen: Whut in tarnation is it?
Hamlet: Do not aller th' kin' t'lure yo' back into his bed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Do sumpin better than bein' aroun' thet nasty fool, ah reckon.
Queen: ah will lissen t'yo'. ah have no life t'breath' wifout whut yo' haf jest told me.
Hamlet: Ju knows ah was a-gonna Englan'?
Queen: No, ah had fo'gotten, but yo' still hafta go.
Hamlet: Thar is sealed letters thet mah friends have. ah muss trest thet mah friends will keep me safe. This hyar man will be hard wawk t'move. ah will drag him into t'other room, dawgone it. Goodnight mom, an' ah hope yo' will lissen t'me.

Ack 4

Scene 1

Kin': Thar is a reason fo' yer so'row; tell me. We need t'discuss this hyar togither. Whar is yer son?
Queen: Leave fo' a li'l while. Yo' won't believe whut ah have see tonight! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Whut in tarnation is it? How is Hamlet?
Queen: He has gone mad, cuss it all t' tarnation. He heard sumpin stir fum behind th' curtain an' said, 'A rat! Fry mah hide! A rat! Fry mah hide!' an' killed Polonius.
Kin': Eff'n ah was thar, it'd haf been me. Whut in tarnation will happen now? We will pay fo' this hyar an' knows about this. We loved Hamlet too much an' c'dn't release him fum our grasp. Someone wif a ho'rible will keep quiet. Whar is he?
Queen: He has taken Polonius's hide an' is a-gonna git rid of it.
Kin': We will send him t'Englan' fust thin' t'morry mo'nin', but we does excuse him, dawgone it. Brin' th' body t'th' chapel, an' please helter-skelter. We'll git some fine friends an' tell them all about this. Let's move fast befo'e enny rumo's begin, as enny fool kin plainly see.

)

Ack 4

Scene 2

Hamlet: Safely sto'ed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern: Hamlet! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Who calls fo' me? Hyar they come.
Rosencrantz: Whut in tarnation haf yo' done wif th' body?
Hamlet: ah buried it.
Rosencrantz: Tell us whar it is. We hafta take it t'th' chapel, ah reckon.
Hamlet: Don't believe it.
Rosencrantz: Believe whut?
Hamlet: Thet ah can keep yer secrets an' not mah own, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah won't share info'mashun wif a sponge.
Rosencrantz: Is yo' callin' me a sponge?
Hamlet: Th' kin' is usin' yo' an' will squeeze yo' dry.
Rosencrantz: ah don't unnerstan'.
Hamlet: Reckons. Of course yo''re not a-gonna unnerstan', yer an idiot.
Rosencrantz: Jest tell us whar th' body is an' come wif us t'see th' kin'.
Hamlet: Th' body is wif th' kin', but th' kin' is not wif th' body. Th' kin' is a thin'-
Guildenstern: A thin'?
Hamlet: Nevah mind, cuss it all t' tarnation. Take me t'th' kin'. Yo' kin find th' body yo'seff.

Ack 4

Scene 3

Kin': ah have sent min to find Hamlet an' th' body. We will not punish him on account o' ev'ryone loves him, dawgone it. We kin't does much t'Hamlet. Whut in tarnation haf yo' foun' out, Rosencrantz?
Rosencrantz: He will not tell us whar it is.
Kin': Whar is he?
Rosencrantz: Outside wif a guard waitin' on yo'.
Kin': Brin' him in, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Rosencrantz: Brin' him in, Guildenstern! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Hamlet, whar is Polonius?
Hamlet: At supper.
Kin': At supper? Whar?
Hamlet: Not whar he etts, but whar he is ett up by wo'ms. We fatten animals fo' us t'eat, we become fat, we die, an' we fatten th' wo'm, dawgone it. To come t'it, a fat kin' is th' same as a beggar t'a wo'm, dawgone it.
Kin': Whutevah.
Hamlet: ah man may fish wif a wo'm thet ett th' kin', an' ett th' fish thet ett th' wo'm, dawgone it.
Kin': Whut in tarnation does this hyar mean?
Hamlet: Jest showin' yo' how a kin' kin hoof it through th' guts of a beggar.
Kin': Whar is Polonius?
Hamlet: In hevvin; send a messenger t'see eff'n he is. Eff'n he's not thar then find him yo'seff in t'other place. Eff'n yo' kin't smell him in a month, try lookin' in th' lobby.
Kin': Git git th' body thar.
Hamlet: He will stay until yo' arrive.
Kin': Fo' yer own safety, we need t'send yo' t'Englan'.
Hamlet: To Englan'?
Kin': Yessuh.
Hamlet: Good, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Kin': It is, eff'n yo' knowed yer reason fo' gwine.
Hamlet: ah knows whut yer up to. To Englan'! Fry mah hide! Good goo'bye, lovin' Mammy.
Kin': Yer lovin' Pappy, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Mah Mammy. Pappy an' Mammy is man an' wife; man an' wife is one flesh; so mah Mammy. Let's hoof it to Englan'! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Foller him an' make sho'nuff he is gone tonight. Ev'rythin' is ready. Englan', eff'n yo' haf evah loved me, yo' muss he'p me. Now thet we own yo', yo' muss. Th' letters tell yo' t'kill Hamlet. Do it, Englan'. ah will not be happy until he is daid.

Ack 4

Scene 4

Fo'tinbras: Cappain, hoof it an' remind th' kin' about our meetin'.
Cappain: ah will, ah reckon.
Fo'tinbras: Git sof'ly.
Hamlet: Whose armah is this?
Cappain: They is No'way's.
Hamlet: Whuffo' is yo' hyar?
Cappain: To git some part of Polan'.
Hamlet: Who is in charge?
Cappain: Fo'tinbras is in charge.
Hamlet: Is yo' gwine fo' Polan' o' jest a piece?
Cappain: Whut in tarnation we're hankerin' is a scrap of lan' wo'th only its name. ah w'd not farm it fo' five ducats. Th' Polish'd nevah profit fum it eff'n they sold it.
Hamlet: Whuffo' fight? They will nevah defend it.
Cappain: It is already guarded, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Whuffo' sh'd we lose $20,000 an' 2,000 souls on over wo'thless lan'? Thet's purdy stoopid. Thanks fo' talkin' t'me.
Cappain: Same t'yo'.
Rosencrantz: Kin we leave now?
Hamlet: ah will be right thar. Ev'rythin' is on mah corn an' urges me t'revenge mah Pappy's death. Whut in tarnation fine is a man thet jest etts an' sleeps? A beast! Fry mah hide! God gives us th' ability t'reckon fo' a reason, as enny fool kin plainly see. Whut in tarnation is mah purpose hyar? ah have a cuz ad a will t'revenge. Ev'ry time ah turn aroun' thar is t'other reason t'kill Claudius. Hyar is a reason: this hyar armah led by a prince. Leadin' an armah doesn't make min great. It is th' small thin's thet count. Mah Pappy has been murdered, mah Mammy stained, but ah have done nothin'. Yet ah let them march t'their graves. Mah thunks muss only be corncentrated on revenge.

Ack 4

Scene 5

Queen: ah won't speak t'her.
Juntlemen: She is mad as a weasel in a blender an' distracked, cuss it all t' tarnation. We need t'pity her.
Queen: Whut in tarnation does she want?
Juntlemen: She speaks mostly of her Pappy.
Ho'atio: It was fine she was spoken t'on account o' she might haf influenced ill-reckonin' varmints.
Queen: Let her come in, as enny fool kin plainly see. Ev'rythin' seems t'fo'eshadow whut is t'come.
Ophelia: Whar is th' right purdy queen of Denmark?
Queen: How is yo', Ophelia?
Ophelia:How sh'd ah yer true love knows Fum t'other one? By his cockle hat an' staff An' his san'al shoon, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Queen: Whuffo' does yo' sin' thet song?
Ophelia: Whut in tarnation? No, yo' remember. He is daid an' gone, mah lady, He is daid an' gone; At his haid a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Queen: No, but Ophelia-
Ophelia: Lissen.

White his shroud as th' mountain snow-

Queen: Look hyar.
Ophelia:

Larded wif sweet flowers;
Which bewepp t'th' grave did go
Wif true-love showers.

Kin': How is yo', purdy lady?
Ophelia: We knows whut we are, but not whut we may be.
Kin': Imaginashun about her Pappy.
Ophelia: Eff'n they ax yo' whut it means, say this:

T'morry is Saint Valentine's Day,
All in th' mo'nin' betime,
An' ah a maid atchar window,
To be yer Valentine.
Then up he rose, an' donn'd his clo'es,
An' dupp'd th' chambet dore;
Let in th' maid, thet out a maid
Nevah departed mo'e.

Kin': Pore Ophelia! Fry mah hide!
Ophelia: Hyar's th' end, cuss it all t' tarnation.

By Gis an' by Saint Charity,
Alack, an' fie fo' shame!
Yo'ng min will does 't, eff'n they come t''t;
By cock, they is to blame.
She quotes:
'Befo'e yo' tumbled me,
Yo' promised me t'wed, cuss it all t' tarnation.'
He answers:
'So'd ah ha' done, by yonner sun,
An thou hadst not come t'mah bed, cuss it all t' tarnation.'

Kin': How long has she been like this?
Ophelia: ah hope all will be fine. We muss be patient. ah can't weep t'see them lie him in th' cold groun'. Mah brother sh'd knows of this. Good night, ladies. Goodnight.
Kin': Foller her an' watch her closely. Her craziness is due t'her Pappy's death. Gertrude, when someone grieves it comes all at once. Fust, her Pappy is daid, an' now Hamlet is gone. Her brother comes fum France. He doesn't be hankerin' ennyone t'knows of his Pappy's death yet.
Queen: Whut in tarnation was thet noise?
Kin': Whar is mah hideguards? Let them guard th' dore.
Juntlemen: Laertes is mighty angry an' is follered by a mob an' min cryin', 'Laertes kin'! Fry mah hide! Laertes kin'! Fry mah hide!'
Queen: How they speak wrongfully! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Th' dores is busted.
Laertes: Whar is th' kin'? –Stay thar, men, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Danes: No, We'll come in, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Laertes: Please leave.
Danes: We will, we will, ah reckon.
Laertes: Thank yo'. Keep th' dore. Yo' evil kin'! Fry mah hide! Gimme mah Pappy! Fry mah hide!
Queen: Calm down, Laertes.
Laertes: Eff'n I'm calm then I'm a bastard, on account o' ah love mah Pappy so much ah will does ennythin' fo' him, dawgone it.
Kin': Whuffo' is yo' so angry? –Let him go, Gertrude. We haf nothin' t'fear fum him, dawgone it. –Whuffo' is yo' so angry? Tell me.
Laertes: Whar is mah Pappy?
Kin': He is daid.
Queen: But not by him, dawgone it.
Kin': Let him satisfy hisse'f.
Laertes: Whuffo' is he daid? Do not joke wif me. Vows t'th' blackess devil! Fry mah hide! Gimme mah Pappy! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Who will stop yo'?
Laertes: Not th' whole wo'ld, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Kin': Do yer hankerin' t'knows who killed yer Pappy? Is it in yer revenge thet thet yo' will challenge whoevah killed yer Pappy?
Laertes: ah will challenge eff'n they is mah Pappy's inemah.
Kin': W'd yo' happen t'be their friend?
Laertes: ah w'd seem like a friend, then git them back fo' whut they
haf done. Kin': Yo' soun' no'mal now. ah's innercent t'yer Pappy's death, an' ah grieve fo' him, dawgone it. In jest a li'l bit, ev'rythin' will be clear as day.
Danes: Let her come in, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Laertes: Whut in tarnation is thet noise. Pore Ophelia! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnation has happened t'her?
Ophelia:

They bo'e him barefaced on th' bier;
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;
An' in his grave rain'd menny a tear-
ah hope yer fine, mah dove!

Laertes: It'd not he'p her now t'have wits.
Ophelia: Yo' muss sin' 'A-down a-down,' an' yo' "Call him a-down-a.' It is th' false steward thet stole his master's dotter.
Laertes: This hyar is not fine.
Ophelia: Rosemary is fo' remembrance, this hyar is fo' yo'. Pansies is fo' thunk's, thar yo' go.
Laertes: Thar is a lesson in madness.
Ophelia: Thar's a fennel fo' yo', an' a columbines. Thar's a rue fo' yo', an' hyar is some fo' me. Thar's a daisy. ah w'd give yo' some violets, but all of them wifered when mah Pappy died, cuss it all t' tarnation. Fo' bonny sweet Robin is all mah joy.
Laertes: ah wish she'd hoof it back t'th' way she was.
Ophelia:

An' will 'a not come agin?
An' will 'a not come agin?
No, no, he is daid,
Git to thy death-bed,
He nevah will come agin.
His bard was as white as snow,All flaxen was his poll, ah reckon.
He is gone, he is gone,
An' we cast away moan, as enny fool kin plainly see.
God ha' mercy on his soul! Fry mah hide!

May God be wif yo' all, ah reckon.
Laertes: God, does yo' see this?
Kin': Laertes, ah grieve too, but yo' muss move on, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah promise yo' will haf th' chance t'avenge yer Pappy.
Laertes: ah hope so. ah hate th' way he was buried; not hono'able t'his name. ah can't believe he was buried thet way.
Kin': ah don't blame yo'. Git wif me, Laertes.

Ack 4

Scene 6

Ho'atio: Who be hankerin' t'talk?
Servant: Sailo's. They say they haf letters fo' yo'.
Ho'atio: Let them in, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah don't knows ennyone on overseas 'cept fo' Hamlet.
Fust Sailo': God bless yo'.
Ho'atio: Let God bless yo' too.
Fust Sailo': Eff'n yer Ho'atio, then yo' need t'see this.
Ho'atio:

'Ho'atio, once these min show yo' this hyar letter, send them t'th' kin'. Two days into th' sea, pirates on overthrew our ship. Somehow ah ended up on th' pirate's ship. ah's their slave, an' they treated me fine. ah need t'return th' favo'. Come an' git me as quick as yo''d be hankerin' t'excape death. ah have thin's t'tell yo' thet yo' won't believe, but they is not impo'tant now. These min will brin' yo' t'me. Rosencrantz an' Guildenstern is still boun' fo' Englan', an' ah muss tell yo' of them, dawgone it. Good goo'bye.
Sinsyarly,
HAMLET'

I'll show yo' t'th' kin' an' yo' will show me t'Hamlet.

Ack 4

Scene 7

Kin': On account o' ah have told yo' thet Hamlet killed yer Pappy, yo' muss does as ah say.
Laertes: It seems so. Whuffo' haven't yo' done ennythin' about it?
Kin': Wal, fo' two reasons: th' queen loves him an' ah love his Mammy, an' th' citizens love him, dawgone it.
Laertes: So ah have lost a Pappy, an' mah sister is crazy. ah will haf mah revenge.
Kin': Don't reckon thet I'll take this hyar lightly. Yo' will hear mo'e soon, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah loved yer Pappy, an' ah love mahse'f. ah hope thet this hyar will let yo' reckon thet- Whut in tarnation is this? Noos?
Messenger: Letter fum Hamlet: this hyar one is fo' yo', an' this hyar one is fo' th' queen, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Kin': Fum Hamlet! Fry mah hide! Who brought them?
Messenger: Sailo's, but ah haven't see them, dawgone it. ah got them fum Claudio; he got them fum Hamlet.
Kin': Laertes, yo' kin lissen.- Leave us.

'To yer majesty, ah's in yer kin'dom, but ah don't haf ennythin' thet belongs t'me. ah hope thet ah will see yo' t'morry an' I'll tell yo' all about mah journey.
HAMLET'

Whut in tarnation does this hyar mean? Is t'others a-comin' to? This hyar better not be a hoax.
Laertes: Do yo' reckanize th' han'writin'?
Kin': It's typical of Hamlet. 'Naked! Fry mah hide!' He says he is alone. Will yo' lissen t'mah advise?
Laertes: I'm upset by it, but let him come. I'm hopin' on sayin' 'This hyar is yo' death' in his face.
Kin': Okay. ah knows yo' love yer Pappy so much thet yo' will does whut ah say.
Laertes: Yessuh, an' ah hope yo' don't try t'make peace between us.
Kin': ah won't make peace between yo'. Eff'n he does return, we will kill him an' call it an accident.
Laertes: Okay, I'll be part of it eff'n yo' devise th' plan, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Kin': Thar has been a lot of talk about yer skill, ah reckon.
Laertes: Whut in tarnation is yo' gittin' to?
Kin': To a yo'thful folly, but it is necessary. Two months ago a yo'ng man fum No'man'y fought hyar an' was marvelous.
Laertes: He was a No'man?
Kin': A No'man, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Laertes: It was Lamo'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Kin': Th' same guy.
Laertes: ah knows him, dawgone it. He's th' bess of th' best.
Kin': He knows thet no one kin beatcha in a jool. Hamlet heard this hyar an' he wanted t'fight yo'.
Laertes: Th' point bein'…
Kin': Laertes, did yo' love yer Pappy?
Laertes: Whuffo' does yo' ax thet?
Kin': ah knows thet yo' love yer Pappy an' be hankerin' t'revenge his death. W'd yo' pow'ful like t'do it o' does yo' jest be hankerin' t'say yo' did?
Laertes: ah's hankerin' t'slit his throat in th' church.
Kin': Yo' kin't kill him thar. Stay in yer chamber an' Hamlet will knows yer home. Yo' will challenge him t'a jool an' kill him thar.
Laertes: I'll does it, an' ah will dip mah swo'd in poison so strong thet eff'n ah jest scratch him, he will be daid.
Kin': Let's reckon whut t'do. ah have it! Fry mah hide! When Hamlet's thusty, ah will poison a six pack of likker t'ensure his death. Whut in tarnation is thet noise? Whut in tarnation's wrong, mah queen?
Queen: When one follers how fast t'other one does. Yo' sister, Ophelia,
drowned, cuss it all t' tarnation. Laertes: Drowned? Whar?
Queen: She was sittin' on a branch of a willer tree when it busted an' fell into th' water whar she drowned, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Laertes: She has drowned?
Queen: Drowned, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Laertes: Pore Ophelia, yo' drowned, but fo' thet ah won't cry. Good goo'bye.
Kin': Let's foller him, Gertrude. ah did so much t'calm him down, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah reckon he might strike agin.

Ack 5

Scene 1

Fust Clown: Is she still havin' a Jedtian burial even though she committed sueycide?
Second Clown: She is.
Fust Clown: How is thet, unless she drowned in her own se'f-defense?
Second Clown: Good point.
Fust Clown: ah reckon she did commit sueycide.
Second Clown: ah don't reckon so.
Fust Clown: Eff'n th' man goes t'th' water an' drowns, he drowns hisse'f. Eff'n th' water comes t'him an' he drowns, he doesn't drown hisse'f.
Second Clown: Is this hyar th' law?
Fust Clown: Yessuh.
Second Clown: Do yer hankerin' t'knows th' truth? Eff'n this hyar woomin was not a juntlewoomin, she'dn't haf a Jedtian burial, ah reckon.
Fust Clown: Eff'n someone has th' guts t'drown themselves, they is not Jedtian, as enny fool kin plainly see. Thar aren't enny ancient juntlemen 'cept gardeners, ditchers, an' gravediggers. They hold up Adam's professhun.
Second Clown: Was he a juntlemen?
Fust Clown: He was th' fust t'have arms.
Second Clown: He didn't haf enny.
Fust Clown: Is yo' a heathen? Th' Bible says th' Adam dug, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! So Adam dug, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! ah have a quesshun, eff'n yo' don't answer it co'reckly, then God he'p yo'! Fry mah hide!
Second Clown: Ask me.
Fust Clown: Who builds stronger than th' mason, th' ship-builder, o' th' carpenter?
Second Clown: Th' gallers maker.
Fust Clown: Yer right. Th' gallers is built stronger than th' church t'someone who does evil, ah reckon. Try agin.
Second Clown: Who builds stronger than a carpenter, a ship-maker, o' a mason?
Fust Clown: Yo' tell me thet.
Second Clown: Okay.
Fust Clown: Whut in tarnation is it?
Second Clown: ah don't know.
Fust Clown: Th' next time someone axs yo' thet quesshun, say 'a gravedigger' on account o' his houses last until doomsday! Fry mah hide! Now, hoof it to Yaughan an' git me some likker.

In yo'th when ah did love, did love,
Methunk it was mighty sweet,
To corntrack, O, th' time, fo'-a mah behove,
O, methunk, thar-a was nothin'-a meet.

Hamlet: Does this hyar guy not reckanize he is a gravedigger?
Ho'atio: He doesn't reckon of it.
Hamlet: Okay. ah see.
Fust Clown:

But age, wif his stealin' steps,
Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
An' hath shipped me intil th' lan',
As eff'n ah had nevah been sech.

Hamlet: Thet skull had a tongue thet c'd sin' once. Look at how he throws it thar as eff'n it were Cain who committed th' fust murder. This hyar might be th' haid of a craf'er.
Ho'atio: It c'd be.
Hamlet: Or of a courtier, who c'd say, 'Good mo'nin', suh. How is yo', suh?' This hyar c'd be mah Lo'd So-an'-so, who praised mah Lo'd So-an'-so's houn'dog, but meant t'bo'row it. C'dn't it?
Ho'atio: Yessuh, it c'd be.
Hamlet: Now he's th' grub fo' wo'ms. Were his bones made nothin' mo'e than t'play wif? Mah bones ache t'reckon about it.
Fust Clown:

A pick-axe an' a spade, a spade,
Fo' an' a shroudin' sheet;
O, a pit of clay fo' t'be made
Fo' sech a guess is meet.

Hamlet: Thar's t'other. This hyar jest might be a lawyer. Is this hyar whut he gits in th' end? Some dirt? Sh'd th' purchaser git mo'e?
Ho'atio: Not an inch mo'e.
Hamlet: Is parchment made of houn'doghide?
Ho'atio: Yessuh, an' of ca'fhide too.
Hamlet: Varmints is no better than animals eff'n they reckon a legal docoomnt will proteck them, dawgone it. I'll speak wif this hyar man, as enny fool kin plainly see. Who's grave is this, man, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Fust Clown: Mine. A hole of clay thet's specially made-
Hamlet: ah c'd believe thet it is pow'ful yourn on account o' yer lyin' in it! Fry mah hide!
Fust Clown: Yer lyin' outta it an' it's notchers; ah won't lay in it but it is mine.
Hamlet: Yer lyin' in it an' yo' claim it's yourn. It is fo' th' daid, not fo' th' livin'. Tharfo'e yer lyin'…
Fust Clown: It's a livin' lie. Eff'n I'm lyin', then so is yo'.
Hamlet: Who is th' man yo' diggin' it fo'?
Fust Clown: It is not a man, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Hamlet: Who is th' woomin?
Fust Clown: It is not a woomin eifer.
Hamlet: Who is a-gonna be buried in it?
Fust Clown: Someone who was a woomin, but she is daid.
Hamlet: He is mighty literate. Peasants is so close t'courtiers thet they rub blisters on their feet. How long haf yo' been a gravedigger?
Fust Clown: ah started th' day af'er old Kin' Hamlet defeated Fo'tinbras.
Hamlet: How long has it been?
Fust Clown: Yo' sh'd knows thet. Ev'ry fool knows thet. It was th' day yo'ng Hamlet was born an' raised- he is crazy an' has been sent t'Englan'.
Hamlet: Of course. Whuffo' was he sent t'Englan'?
Fust Clown: They won't notice he's thar. They're as crazy as he is.
Hamlet: How did he become so mad?
Fust Clown: They say peekoolyarly.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation does yo' mean by 'peekoolyarly'?
Fust Clown: He lost his wits.
Hamlet: Whar?
Fust Clown: Hyar in Denmark. Shet mah mouth! I've been a sexton fo' 30 years.
Hamlet: How long does a man lie buried befo'e he rots?
Fust Clown: Eff'n he isn't rotten when he was placed in, about 8 o' 9 years. A tanner lasts 9 years.
Hamlet: Whuffo' does th' tanner last longer than t'others?
Fust Clown: On account o' his hide is so rough thet it takes water a long time t'bust through it. Hyar is a skull thet's been lyin' hyar fo' 23 years.
Hamlet: Who's is it?
Fust Clown: It was a crazy varmint. Who does yo' reckon it is?
Hamlet: ah don't know.
Fust Clown: He poured Rhenish likker on mah haid once. He is Yo'ick- th' kin''s jester! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: This?
Fust Clown: Thet one.
Hamlet: Pore Yo'ick! Fry mah hide! ah knowed him once, Ho'atio. He was hilarious. Whar is yo' tricks, jokes, o' songs now thet made ev'ryone laugh? Not one lef'? Ho'atio: tell me one thin'.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation is thet?
Hamlet: Do yo' reckon Alexan'er th' Great looks like this hyar in th' groun'?
Ho'atio: Yessuh, ah do.
Hamlet: An' smelled as bad? Ugh! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Yessuh, probably.
Hamlet: How we is recycled! Fry mah hide! Isn't it right fine how th' dest of Alexan'er th' Great c'd ind up bein' a stopper fo' a beer keg?
Ho'atio: Yo''re carryin' this hyar a bit too far.
Hamlet: No, it's not. Alexan'er dies, he is buried, he returns t'dest, an' he is made into a cawk.

Imperious Caesar, daid an' turn'd t'clay,
Might stop a hole t'keep th' wind away.
O, thet thet earth, which kepp th' wo'ld in awe,
Sh'd patch a wall t'expel th' winter's flaw! Fry mah hide!

Quiet! Fry mah hide! Hyar comes th' kin', th' queen, an' th' courtiers. Who does they foller? This hyar varmint committed sueycide by th' way they ack. Let's hide an' watch.
Laertes: Whut in tarnation other ceremonies?
Hamlet: Thet's Laertes, a noble yo'th. Lissen t'whut he says.
Laertes: Whut in tarnation other ceremonies?
Priest: Her funeral rights is gone an' th' cuz of her death is unknown, an' eff'n it were a no'mal burial, she'd be buried in unsatisfied groun' until doomsday. Stones'd be thrown on her instead of prayers. Hyar she gits whut a no'mal varmint'd receive eff'n they died, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Laertes: Is thet all yo' kin do?
Priest: Thet is all thet we kin does. We'd profane th' Service of th' Daid eff'n we sang a solemn requiem an' put her t'ress like them who die natcherly.
Laertes: Lay her in th' earth, an' may violets grow upon her virginal hide. Mah sister will be an angel when yer burnin' in hell, yo' disrespeckful priest! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation? Ophelia?
Queen: ah hoped yo''d haf been mah Hamlet's wife. ah thunk ah w'd spread flowers on yer bridal bed, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah didn't be hankerin' t'place them on yer grave.
Laertes: Don't bury her yet: ah's hankerin' t'touch her one last time. May th' earth be placed upon yo' t'make a mountain higher than Mt. Olympus!
Hamlet: Who be hankerin' t'grieve? It is me- Hamlet th' Dane!
Laertes: Let th' devil haf yer soul! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Let hoof it of me. Thar is sumpin inside of me yo' don't be hankerin' t'mess wif! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Separeete them, dawgone it.
Queen: Hamlet, Hamlet! Fry mah hide!
All: Juntlemen! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Contain yo'seff! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: I'll fight him on over this hyar until ah die!
Queen: Whut in tarnation's wrong, Hamlet?
Hamlet: ah loved Ophelia. Whut in tarnation will yo' does fo' her?
Queen: Leave him alone!
Hamlet: W'd yo' weep, fight, woun' yo'seff, six pack vinegar, ett a crocodile? I'll does it! Fry mah hide! ah w'd be buried alive wif her! Fry mah hide! Eff'n yo''re a-gonna protest, I'll does it as loud as yo'! Fry mah hide!
Queen: This hyar is mad, cuss it all t' tarnation. He'll be like this hyar fo' a spell.
Hamlet: Whuffo' is yo' treatin' me like this? I've allus liked yo'. Not even Hercules kin stop a houn'dog fum havin' its day! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Will yo' look af'er him, Ho'atio? Be patient about whut we talked about. Gertrude, make sho'nuff yer son is guarded, cuss it all t' tarnation. This hyar grave will haf t'other hide as a memo'ial, ah reckon. Bide yer time fo' an hour.

Ack 5

Scene 2

Hamlet: So much fo' this. Do yo' remember all th' circumstances?
Ho'atio: ah remember.
Hamlet: ah c'dn't sleep on account o' of whut is gwine on, as enny fool kin plainly see. Thar was a troublin' inside of me thet'dn't let me sleep. It was wo'se than cornvicks in shckels tryin' t'git away. Quickly, an' thanks fo' th' quickness, our unwise an' rash acks sometimes benefit us. When our secret plans is covahed, thet sh'd larn us thet thar is a greater power thet decides our outcome no matter how we like it-
Ho'atio: Thet's true.
Hamlet: ah got up fum mah cabin an' groped aroun' lookin' fo' Rosencrantz an' Guildenstern, an' when ah did, ah took th' note, busted th' seal, an' read whut it said, cuss it all t' tarnation. It was an o'der fo' mah execushun! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Is yo' sho'nuff?
Hamlet: Hyar it is; read it atchar leisure, but will yo' lissen t'me as yo' read?
Ho'atio: ah hear yo'.
Hamlet: In th' nets of villains, ah set down, an' wrote a noo commisshun. ah wrote it in th' right purdy han' of a professhunal clerk. Shet mah mouth! It was mighty useful fo' me at thet time. Do yer hankerin' t'knows whut ah wrote?
Ho'atio: Yessuh.
Hamlet: ah axed th' Kin' t'kill them eemeejutly.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation did yo' does about an official seal?
Hamlet: ah had mah Pappy's signet rin' in mah bag, an' it was identical t'th' one thet th' kin' used, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah switched them safely, an' th' next day was our fight in th' sea. Th' ress yo' know.
Ho'atio: So Rosencrantz an' Guildenstern died?
Hamlet: But they loved their wawk. They prackically killed themselves.
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation kind of a kin' is this?
Hamlet: Isn't it up t'me? He killed mah Pappy, sedooced mah Mammy, came between me an' mah success, an' tried t'kill me. W'dn't it be poetic eff'n ah killed him mahse'f?
Ho'atio: He'll soon hyar fum th' English Kin' of whut happened thar.
Hamlet: Mighty sho'tly. It doesn't take long t'end a man's life. I'm so'ry ah lost corntrol of mahse'f wif Laertes. ah see him an' me as a mirro' image. ah will make it up t'him, dawgone it.
Ho'atio: Who is this?
Orsic: Welcome back t'Denmark! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: ah thank yo'. Do yo' knows this purdy dragonfly?
Ho'atio: No.
Hamlet: I'm glad t'knows him, dawgone it. Let one dumb animal own lotsa other dumb animals an' he kin ett wif th' kin'! Fry mah hide!
Orsic: Eff'n yo' haf th' time, ah can give yo' a message fum th' kin'…
Hamlet: ah will take it. Put yer hat t'its use; put it on yer haid.
Orsic: Thank yo'. It is hot out today.
Hamlet: It is mighty cold; take mah wo'd fo' it. Th' wind is no'therly.
Orsic: It is rather chilly.
Hamlet: But it is purdy hot fum mah point of view.
Orsic: Th' kin' has placed a large wager on yer haid. He be hankerin' yo' to-
Hamlet: Hat on yer haid-
Orsic: Laertes is a juntleman of pleasin' manners an' an excellent appeareence. He knows how one juntlemen sh'd admire t'other.
Hamlet: Yer dexcripshun fits him, but it'd be extremely hard t'name all of his qualities, on account o' yo' knows he is multi-talented, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah knows he is fine wo'th evaluatin', but th' only varmint thet c'd come close t'matchin' him'd be his own shadow.
Orsic: Yo' speak flawlessly of him, dawgone it.
Hamlet: Whuffo' is we admirin' him?
Orsic: Whut in tarnation?
Ho'atio: Kin we speak mo'e simply? ah knows yo''ll try.
Hamlet: Whuffo' speak about him at all?
Orsic: About Laertes?
Ho'atio: Thar aren't enny mo'e wo'ds t'dexcribe him! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: About him, dawgone it.
Orsic: ah knows yern't igno'ant-
Hamlet: ah wish yo' did, but eff'n yo' did, yo''dn't gimme thet much credit,'d yo'?
Orsic: Yo' don't knows Laertes' excellence-
Hamlet: ah w'd nevah admit thet.
Orsic: ah mean excellence wif his weapon, as enny fool kin plainly see. He has no equal acco'din' t'his follerers.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation is his weapon?
Orsic: Rapier an' dagger.
Hamlet: Thet's two weapons, but still…
Orsic: Th' Kin' has wagered six houn'dogs an' Laertes has staked six rapiers an' daggers. Three carriages is mighty nice.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation is th' carriages thet yer talkin' about?
Ho'atio: ah knowed yo''d need footnotes in th' end! Fry mah hide!
Orsic: Th' straps.
Hamlet: Th' wo'd'd be appropriate eff'n we were mountin' kinnons t'our sides. Thar's a French bet aginst a Danish. Whuffo' is it 'staked'?
Orsic: Th' Kin' has wagered thet in a dozen bouts thet Laertes will not sco'e three higher than yo'. Laertes wagered he will sco'e nine hits outta twelve. Eff'n yo' answer now he will does it now.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation eff'n ah answer 'no'?
Orsic: ah mean, 'accepp th' challenge'.
Hamlet: I'm a-gonna take a walk down this hyar hall, ah reckon. It is mah exercise time. Eff'n he is still up t'it when ah's finished, I'll play fo' th' kin'. ah have nothin' t'lose but mah own shame.
Orsic: Shall ah tell this hyar to th' kin'?
Hamlet: Tell him whutevah thet comes natcherly.
Orsic: Okay. Thank yo'.
Hamlet: Sho'nuff. He recommends hisse'f fine. Nobody'd does it fo' him, dawgone it.
Orsic: This hyar bird flies off wif his shell still stuck t'his haid.
Hamlet: He obsarved right courtesy befo'e he sucked fum his Mammy's nipple. Yo' put him t'a real test, an' his bubble'd bust.
Lo'd: Th' kin' be hankerin' t'knows if yo' will compete wif Laertes now.
Hamlet: ah's ready now.
Lo'd: Ev'ryone is on their way down, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Hamlet: Wal timed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Lo'd: Th' queen'd like fo' yo' t'show some politeness befo'e yo' fight Laertes.
Hamlet: ah will, ah reckon.
Ho'atio: Yo' will lose.
Hamlet: ah don't reckon so. Evah on account o' he was in France, ah have been in corntinual prackice. ah will win, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Ho'atio: But-
Hamlet: It's silly: th' thin's thet upset a woomin.
Ho'atio: Eff'n yo' suspeck thet thar is sumpin wrong, ah can stop them an' yo' tell them thet yer sick. Shet mah mouth!
Hamlet: Nope. Eff'n death comes now, it won't come in th' future. Eff'n not in th' future, then now. Yo' sh'd allus be prepared, cuss it all t' tarnation. On account o' no man knows whut he will be missin', then thar's nothin' t'lose.
Kin': Come hyar, Hamlet, an' take Laertes' han'.
Hamlet: I'm so'ry. Please fo'gimme. ah's mad as a weasel in a blender an' yo' muss respeck thet.
Laertes: ah accepp yer apology, but ah will avenge mah Pappy's death.
Hamlet: ah welcome it. ah challenge yo'. Brin' us th' foils.
Laertes: Gimme one.
Hamlet: I'll be yer foil, Laertes. Mah clumsiness will make yer skill look like a bright star in th' darkess night! Fry mah hide!
Laertes: Yer mockin' me.
Hamlet: No, I'm not.
Kin': Give them th' foils, Orsic. Hamlet, does yo' knows th' wager?
Hamlet: Yessuh.
Kin': ah have watched yo' both, an' on account o' Laertes has better fo'm, he has a han'icap.
Laertes: This hyar one is too heavy. Gimme t'other.
Hamlet: ah like this hyar one. Is th' foils all th' same len'th?
Orsic: Yessuh.
Kin': Put th' wine on thet table. Eff'n Hamlet wins th' fust two bout o' draws th' third, fire th' cannons. Th' Kin' will six pack t'Hamlet's success, an' he'll drop a pearl wo'th mo'e than all th' pearls on th' last four kin's of Denmark. Shet mah mouth! Brin' me th' cups! Judges, keep a watchful eye.
Hamlet: Come on, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Laertes: Come on, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Hamlet: One!
Laertes: No! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: A rulin'! Fry mah hide!
Orsic: A sho'nuff hit.
Laertes: Agin.
Kin': Hold, cuss it all t' tarnation. Gimme a six pack. Hamlet, this hyar pearl is yourn! Fry mah hide! To yer health! Fry mah hide! Give him th' cup.
Hamlet: I'll play this hyar bout fust. Set it down fo' a second, cuss it all t' tarnation. Come. T'other hit. Co'reck?
Laertes: A touch, nothin' mo'e.
Kin': Our son will win! Fry mah hide!
Queen: He's not th' fittest, an' looks outta breath. Hyar, Hamlet: take mah han'kerchief an' wipe yer face. Th' Queen six packs t'yer fine fo'tune, Hamlet! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Gertrude, does not six pack! Fry mah hide!
Queen: ah will, ah reckon.
Kin': It's too late! She drank! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: ah won't six pack yet.
Queen: Let me wipe yer face.
Laertes: ah will hit him now.
Kin': ah don't reckon so.
Laertes: ah's hankerin' t'so bad! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: We'll hoof it fo' th' third bout. Swin' wif all yer might. ah reckon yer teasin' me.
Laertes: Really? Let's go! Fry mah hide!
Orsic: Draw.
Laertes: I'll git yo' now! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Separeete them! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Right, come!
Orsic: Stop th' fight! Fry mah hide! Look at th' queen! Fry mah hide!
Ho'atio: Both of yer bleedin'. How is yo'?
Orsic: How is yo', Laertes?
Laertes: ah have jest killed mahse'f.
Hamlet: Whut in tarnation is th' matter wif th' queen?
Kin': She falls on account o' she sees blood, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Queen: No, no! Fry mah hide! Th' six pack! Fry mah hide! I've been poisoned! Fry mah hide!
Hamlet: Tretchery! Fry mah hide! Lock th' dores! We muss find it! Fry mah hide!
Laertes: Right hyar, Hamlet. Yo''re doomed an' so is I. Yo' haf less than a ha'f hour t'live. Th' kin' is t'blame!
Hamlet: Th' point poisoned too? Do yer wawk, venom! Fry mah hide!
All: Treason! Fry mah hide!
Kin': Yo' muss defend me! ah's only woun'ed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: Is this hyar yer six pack? Finish it an' join mah Mammy! Fry mah hide!
Laertes: Swap fo'giveness wif me, Hamlet, an' we will both be fo'given fo' th' deaths we haf cuzd, cuss it all t' tarnation.
Hamlet: ah's a daid man, Ho'atio! Fry mah hide! Good goo'bye, queen! Fry mah hide! ah's as fine as daid! Fry mah hide! Yer livin'. Only give th' account of me an' mah motives t'them who don't knows th' full sto'y.
Ho'atio: Yo' better not believe it. Thar's mo'e ancient Roman on me than Dane. Thar's still some of th' six pack lef'.
Hamlet: Gimme th' cup! Fry mah hide! Let go! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnation a bad name ah w'd leave behind eff'n th' whole sto'y wasn't told! Fry mah hide! Eff'n yo' evah loved me, don't commit sueycide. Suffer th' harsh wo'ld t'tell mah sto'y. Whut in tarnation is thet warlike noise?
Orsic: Yo'ng Fo'tinbras has returned fum his cornquess fum Polan'.
Hamlet: I'm dyin'! Fry mah hide! ah give all of this hyar to Fo'tinbras an' eleck him kin'. Tell him so, wif th' juneral details thet haf persuaded me to- Th' ress is silence…
Ho'atio: Thar inds a noble life. Good goo'bye, fair prince: may angels sin' as a choir t'ress yo'. Whuffo' does they come this hyar way?
Fo'tinbras: Whar is this hyar sight?
Ho'atio: Whut in tarnation does yer hankerin' t'see? Eff'n it is so'rowful, then look no further.
Fo'tinbras: Death, whut is yo' preparin' in yer eternal cell? Whuffo' haf yo' claimed so menny nobles at once?
Fust Ambassado': Th' sight is terrible, an' our noos is too late. Rosencrantz an' Guildenstern is daid as o'dered, cuss it all t' tarnation. Who does we give thanks to?
Ho'atio: Not fum him, even eff'n it c'd. All of this hyar death is on account o' of accidents, respeck, an' th' backfire of one's plan t'kill t'other.
Fo'tinbras: Less hear it now. ah have ownyship of this hyar an' now is th' bess time t'claim it.
Ho'atio: Yer th' noo kin'. Let's haf th' ceremony now befo'e ennythin' else will happen, as enny fool kin plainly see.
Fo'tinbras: Four cappains will take Hamlet like a soldier t'th' platfo'm, dawgone it. Eff'n'd haf lived t'be kin', he'd haf truly been royal, ah reckon. Raise th' bodies. This hyar is not th' appropriate place fo' all of these bodies; it looks like a battlefield, cuss it all t' tarnation. Go: o'der th' soldiers t'shoot.

THE END