This is the fourth in a five-part series of Shakespeare Lipograms. For my fourth lipogram, I have chosen to summarize a Tragedy, Hamlet, using “O” as the only vowel.

Enjoy!

Two on post show Old Crown Lord’s Ghost to Bosom Cohort, who looks on spook from top to bottom. Bosom Cohort knows to show Ghost to Forlorn Son. Forlorn Son dons low moods, won’t show known Crown Lord props. Forlorn Son broods:

“O God! O God! How worlds rot! How’s Pop forgot so soon? Not two months lost, no, not so, not two. So good to comfort Mom. Now – oh no! – to go from joy to sorrow. Crown Lord mocks protocol to hook control of stronghold so pronto to follow Pop’s drop-off. Took Mom for consort too soon, too soon. O, Mom shows so hollow! So not cool.”

Cross Hotblood told Moon Tot not to grow too fond of Forlorn Son, for Moon Tot’s born too lowbrow to show Forlorn Son how to don crowns. Top Lord told Cross Hotblood world-won words: “Son, do not borrow – not from, nor to – for to do so oft shows not gold nor cohort to follow.” Top Lord told Moon Tot not to grow too fond of Forlorn Son too, for boys’ vows oft show too hollow. Moon Tot conforms.

Bosom Cohort shows Ghost to Forlorn Son. Ghost told Forlorn Son to follow. Ghost shows Forlorn Son books of sorrow, from Ghost’s own bro, Crown Lord. “Son, for honor, go knock on Crown Lord’s door, who took to rob Pop of crown, of growth, of consort – lost! Do not scold Consort Mom. Now go!” Forlorn Son opts to go from low moods to mock fool.

Crown Lord now longs to know roots of Forlorn Son’s odd moods. Top Lord shows Crown Lord how Forlorn Son’s soft spot for Moon Tot grows odd moods. Consort Mom looks to how Forlorn Son sobs for Pop for roots of Forlorn Son’s odd moods. Forlorn Son shows two old school cohorts (who snoop for Crown Lord) how loss of Pop’s crown grows odd moods. Crown Lord knows not of Ghost’s words. Top Lord shows Show Troop to Forlorn Son. Show Troop shows off for Forlorn Son. Forlorn Son shows Show Troop how to form shows to work on crooks.

Crown Lord snoops on Forlorn Son. Top Lord snoops too. Forlorn Son broods solo: “To go on, or not to go on? Moot. To drop off? To nod down to stop lots of wrongs? Or to go to post-worlds of doom? No! Horror works on lots of cold-foot poltroons. So, do go on. Do go on. Soft! How now, Moon Tot?” Moon Tot confronts Forlorn Son. Forlorn Son scorns Moon Tot to go to God’s fold.

Crown Lord cottons to go to Show Troop’s show “Knock Off.” Crown Lord holds no joy to look on Show Troop’s show. Crown Lord opts to go, so Forlorn Son now knows. For Crown Lord to go off shows proof of Ghost Pop’s word. Top Lord told Forlorn Son to go to Consort Mom’s room. Forlorn Son looks on Crown Lord’s stoop to roods. Forlorn Son won’t knock off Crown Lord to go to God. Forlorn Son holds on. Forlorn Son shocks Consort Mom. Top Lord snoops. Forlorn Son swords… Crown Lord? No, Top Lord. Oops. Forlorn Son scolds Consort Mom, so Ghost Pop shows to stop Forlorn Son short.

Crown Lord books Forlorn Son’s two old school cohorts to convoy Forlorn Son to London. Forlorn Son looks on Oslo Lord’s troops. Oslo Lord’s honor grows on Forlorn Son. Cross Hotblood shows to look for Crown Lord’s blood. Lots of townsfolk show for Cross Hotblood. Crown Lord knows to look to Forlorn Son for Cross Hotblood’s honor. Cross Hotblood looks on Moon Tot, who shows odd moods. Cross Hotblood vows to knock off Forlorn Son. Moon Tot drowns.

Forlorn Son bolts both old school cohorts. Morons. Forlorn Son shows tomb-lot to Bosom Cohort. Two Tomb-lot Clowns fool to Forlorn Son. Both show Old Fool’s crown to Forlorn Son, who broods: “Forsooth, poor Old Fool. Known to stronghold folks, Bosom Cohort. How oft Old Fool told stronghold folks how to roll. How doom follows Old Fool now. Go to Mom’s room, Old Fool, show how fools rot. Mom won’t howl. Bosom Cohort, follow. Lords or lowbrows both go to worms’ food, or for chocks to stop hooch pots. Soft! Crown Lord shows!” Forlorn Son looks on Crown Lord, who comforts Consort Mom. Cross Hotblood sobs to go down to Moon Tot’s tomb. Forlorn Son hops down to confront Cross Hotblood. Both opt for swords.

Cross Hotblood blots hot sword. Crown Lord blots strong port. Both form doom for Forlorn Son. Forlorn Son shows. Forlorn Son bows to Cross Hotblood for Top Lord boo-boo. Both hold swords for sport row. Both go. Crown Lord holds port to honor Forlorn Son. Forlorn Son longs not for port. Consort Mom downs strong port. Oops.

Forlorn Son shows strong to notch two blows on Cross Hotblood. Cross Hotblood swords Forlorn Son. Ow! Forlorn Son swords Cross Hotblood, who drops hot sword. Forlorn Son now holds Cross Hotblood’s hot sword. Cross Hotblood now holds Forlorn Son’s cold sword. Forlorn Son swords Cross Hotblood, who knows both now look on doom. Consort Mom drops from strong port. Cross Hotblood told Forlorn Son of hot sword, of strong port, of Crown Lord’s non-honor. Forlorn Son swords Crown Lord, floods Crown Lord’s gob of strong port. “Follow Mom!” Crown Lord drops off.

Forlorn Son looks to Cross Hotblood. Both smooth off storms of loss for honor. Cross Hotblood drops off. Forlorn Son stoops down. Forlorn Son sponsors Oslo Lord to hold crown now. Forlorn Son drops off. Bosom Cohort croons: “Good morrow, good crown lord’s son. Go to God on good songs.” London Lord shows to post word of Forlorn Son’s two old school cohorts lost. Oslo Lord shows, now top dog. Both sob for loss. Oslo Lord drops word for troops to go shoot.