(He picks up a worn copy of The Federalist Papers.)
You wrote this at my age. You were already a ghost in waiting — A hurricane in a waistcoat. Me? I’m a clerk. A decent man. A father who stays. hamilton jr script
(pause)
(beat)
A dimly lit study, 1840s. Books, a quill, a portrait of Alexander Hamilton on the wall. Character: PHILIP HAMILTON II (30s), intense, witty, haunted. PHILIP II (facing the portrait) You died before I was born — And still you’re in my room, In my blood, in the ink I waste Trying to write a sentence You didn’t already carve Into the spine of this nation. (He picks up a worn copy of The Federalist Papers
I won’t throw away my shot, Father. I’ll just aim it at something That doesn’t bleed. Would you like this adapted into a full one-act, a rap monologue, or a short story? I’m a clerk
(sits down, exhausted)
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