*Enter two CLOWNS. Full Summary
8 Why, 'tis found so.
9 It must be "se offendendo"; it cannot be else.
10 For here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,
11 it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it
12 is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned
13 herself wittingly.
14 Nay, but hear you, goodman delver
15 Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here
16 stands the man; good; if the man go to this water,
17 and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he
18 goesmark you that; but if the water come to him
19 and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he
20 that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
21 But is this law?
22 Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.
26 Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that great
27 folk should have countenance in this world to drown
28 or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian.
29 Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentleman
30 but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they
31 hold up Adam's profession.
32 Was he a gentleman?
33 He was the first that ever bore arms.
34 Why, he had none.
35 What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the
36 Scripture? The Scripture says Adam digged:
37 could he dig without arms? I'll put another
38 question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the
39 purpose, confess thyself
40 Go to.
45 I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows
46 does well; but how does it well? it does well to
47 those that do ill: now thou dost ill to say the
48 gallows is built stronger than the church: argal,
49 the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.
52 Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
53 Marry, now I can tell.
55 Mass, I cannot tell.
56 Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull
57 ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when
58 you are asked this question next, say "a grave-maker":
59 the houses that he makes last till doomsday. Go, get
60 thee in, and fetch me a stoup of liquor.
75 That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:
76 how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were
77 Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It
78 might be the pate of a politician, which this ass
79 now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,
80 might it not?
81 It might, my lord.
82 Or of a courtier; which could say "Good
83 morrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, good
84 lord?" This might be my lord such-a-one,
85 that praised my lord such-a-one's horse,
86 when he meant to beg it; might it not?
87 Ay, my lord.
88 Why, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's;
89 chapless, and
knocked about the mazzard
90 with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution,
91 and we had the trick to see't. Did these bones
92 cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats
93 with 'em? mine ache to think on't.
98 There's another: why may not that be the skull of
99 a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillities,
100 his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Why does he
101 suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the
102 sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of
103 his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be
104 in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,
105 his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,
106 his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, and
107 the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate
108 full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him no more
109 of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length
110 and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances
111 of his lands will hardly lie in this box; and must the inheritor
112 himself have no more, ha?
113 Not a jot more, my lord.
114 Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
115 Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
119 Mine, sir.
122 I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.
130 What man dost thou dig it for?
131 For no man, sir.
132 What woman, then?
133 For none, neither.
134 Who is to be buried in't?
137 How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card,
138 or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio,
139 these three years I have taken a note of it; the age is
140 grown so pick'd that the toe of the peasant comes so
141 near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. How long
142 hast thou been a grave-maker?
145 How long is that since?
149 Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
156 How came he mad?
157 Very strangely, they say.
158 How strangely?
159 Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
160 Upon what ground?
165 I' faith, if he be not rotten before he dieas we
166 have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce
167 hold the laying inhe will last you some eight year
168 or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
169 Why he more than another?
170 Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that
171 he will keep out water a great while; and your water
172 is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.
173 Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth
174 three and twenty years.
175 Whose was it?
178 Nay, I know not.
183 E'en that.
184 Let me see.
185 Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of
186 infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me
187 on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred
188 in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung
189 those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where
190 be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your
191 flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on
192 a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite
193 chop-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell
194 her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come;
195 make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
196 What's that, my lord?
199 E'en so.
200 And smelt so? pah!
201 E'en so, my lord.
207 No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with
208 modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: as
209 thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
210 Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of
211 earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he
212 was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
213 Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
214 Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
215 O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
216 Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!
217 But soft! but soft awhile: here comes the king.
218 The queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow?
219 And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
220 The corse they follow did with desperate hand
221 Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.
222 Couch we awhile, and mark.
223 What ceremony else?
224 That is Laertes, a very noble youth: mark.
225 What ceremony else?
226 Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
227 As we have warranty: her death was doubtful;
228 And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
229 She should in ground unsanctified have lodged
230 Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,
231 Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;
232 Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,
233 Her maiden strewments and the bringing home
234 Of bell and burial.
235 Must there no more be done?
238 Lay her i' the earth:
239 And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
240 May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
241 A ministering angel shall my sister be,
242 When thou liest howling.
242 What, the fair Ophelia!
246 O, treble woe
247 Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
248 Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
249 Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
250 Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
254 What is he whose grief
255 Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
256 Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand
257 Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
258 Hamlet the Dane.
259 The devil take thy soul!
259 Thou pray'st not well.
260 I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
261 For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
262 Yet have I something in me dangerous,
263 Which let thy wisdom fear: hold off thy hand.
264 Pluck them asunder.
264 Hamlet, Hamlet!
265 Good my lord, be quiet.
268 O my son, what theme?
272 O, he is mad, Laertes.
273 For love of God, forbear him.
274 'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:
275 Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
276 Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
277 I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
278 To outface me with leaping in her grave?
279 Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
280 And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
281 Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
282 Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
283 Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
284 I'll rant as well as thou.
284 This is mere madness:
285 And thus awhile the fit will work on him;
286 Anon, as patient as the female dove,
287 When that her golden couplets are disclosed,
288 His silence will sit drooping.
288 Hear you, sir;
289 What is the reason that you use me thus?
290 I loved you ever: but it is no matter;
291 Let Hercules himself do what he may,
292 The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
293 I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
294 Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;
295 We'll put the matter to the present push.
296 Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.
297 This grave shall have a living monument:
298 An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
299 Till then, in patience our proceeding be.