fo was the only son of the King of Denmark. He loved his
father and mother dearly—and was happy in the love of a sweet
lady named Ophelia. Her father, Polonius, was the King’s Chamberlain.

While Hamlet was away studying at Wittenberg, his father died.
Young Hamlet hastened home in great grief to hear that a serpent had
stung the King, and that he was dead. The young prince had loved his
father tenderly—so you may judge what he felt when he found that the
Queen, before yet the King had been laid in the ground a month, had
determined to marry again—and to marry the dead King’s brother.

Hamlet refused to put off his mourning for the wedding.

“It is not only the black I wear on my body,” he said, “that proves
my loss. I wear mourning in my heart for my dead father. His gon at
least remembers him, and grieves still.”

Then said Claudius, the King’s brother, “This erief is unreasonable.
Of course you must sorrow at the loss of your father, but—”

“Ah,” said Hamlet, bitterly, “I cannot in one little month forget
those J love.”

With that the Queen and Claudius left him, to make meiry over their
wedding, forgetting the poor good King who had been so kind to them both.

And Hamlet, left alone, began to wonder and to question as to what

he ought to do. For he could not believe the story about the snake-bite.
It seemed to him all too plain that the wicked Claudius had killed the
King, so as to get the crown and marry the Queen. Yet he had no proof,
and could not accuse Claudius.

And while he was thus thinking came Horatio, a fellow student of his,
from Wittenberg.