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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
Is this the fine of his fines； and the recovery of his recoveries； to have his
fine pate full of fine dirt？ Will his vouchers vouch him no more of his
purchases； and double ones too； than the length and breadth of a pair of
indentures？ The very conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box；
and must th' inheritor himself have no more； ha？ Hor。 Not a jot more； my
lord。 Ham。 Is not parchment made of sheepskins？ Hor。 Ay； my lord； And of
calveskins too。 Ham。 They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance
in that。 I will speak to this fellow。 Whose grave's this； sirrah？ Clown。 Mine；
sir。
＇Sings＇ O； a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet。
Ham。 I think it be thine indeed； for thou liest in't。 Clown。 You lie out
on't； sir； and therefore 'tis not yours。 For my part； I do not lie in't； yet it is
mine。 Ham。 Thou dost lie in't； to be in't and say it is thine。 'Tis for the dead；
not for the quick； therefore thou liest。 Clown。 'Tis a quick lie； sir； 'twill
away again from me to you。 Ham。 What man dost thou dig it for？ Clown。
For no man； sir。 Ham。 What woman then？ Clown。 For none neither。 Ham。
Who is to be buried in't？ Clown。 One that was a woman； sir； but； rest her
soul； she's dead。 Ham。 How absolute the knave is！ We must speak by the
card； or equivocation will undo us。 By the Lord； Horatio； this three years I
have taken note of it； the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant
comes so near the heel of the courtier he galls his kibe。… How long hast
thou been a grave…maker？ Clown。 Of all the days i' th' year； I came to't that
day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras。 Ham。 How long is that
since？ Clown。 Cannot you tell that？ Every fool can tell that。 It was the
very day that young Hamlet was born… he that is mad； and sent into
England。 Ham。 Ay； marry； why was be sent into England？ Clown。 Why；
because 'a was mad。 'A shall recover his wits there； or； if 'a do not； 'tis no
great matter there。 Ham。 Why？ Clown。 'Twill not he seen in him there。
There the men are as mad as he。 Ham。 How came he mad？ Clown。 Very
strangely； they say。 Ham。 How strangely？ Clown。 Faith； e'en with losing
his wits。 Ham。 Upon what ground？ Clown。 Why； here in Denmark。 I have
been sexton here； man and boy thirty years。 Ham。 How long will a man lie
i' th' earth ere he rot？ Clown。 Faith； if 'a be not rotten before 'a die （as we
have many pocky corses now…a…days that will scarce hold the laying in； I
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
will last you some eight year or nine year。 A tanner will last you nine year。
Ham。 Why he more than another？ Clown。 Why； sir； his hide is so tann'd
with his trade that 'a will keep out water a great while； and your water is a
sore decayer of your whoreson dead body。 Here's a skull now。 This skull
hath lien you i' th' earth three…and…twenty years。 Ham。 Whose was it？
Clown。 A whoreson； mad fellow's it was。 Whose do you think it was？ Ham。
Nay； I know not。 Clown。 A pestilence on him for a mad rogue！ 'A pour'd a
flagon of Rhenish on my head once。 This same skull； sir； was Yorick's
skull； the King's jester。 Ham。 This？ Clown。 E'en that。 Ham。 Let me see。
＇Takes the skull。＇ Alas； poor Yorick！ I knew him； Horatio。 A fellow of
infinite jest； of most excellent fancy。 He hath borne me on his back a
thousand times。 And now how abhorred in my imagination it is！ My gorge
rises at it。 Here hung those lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft。
Where be your gibes now？ your gambols？ your songs？ your flashes of
merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar？ Not one now； to mock
your own grinning？ Quite chap… fall'n？ Now get you to my lady's chamber；
and tell her； let her paint an inch thick； to this favour she must come。 Make
her laugh at that。 Prithee； Horatio； tell me one thing。 Hor。 What's that； my
lord？ Ham。 Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i' th' earth？
Hor。 E'en so。 Ham。 And smelt so？ Pah！ ＇Puts down the skull。＇ Hor。 E'en so；
my lord。 Ham。 To what base uses we may return； Horatio！ Why may not
imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a
bunghole？ Hor。 'Twere to consider too curiously； to consider so。 Ham。 No；
faith； not a jot； but to follow him thither with modesty enough； and
likelihood to lead it； as thus： Alexander died； Alexander was buried；
Alexander returneth into dust； the dust is earth； of earth we make loam；
and why of that loam （whereto he was converted） might they not stop a
beer barrel？ Imperious Caesar； dead and turn'd to clay； Might stop a hole
to keep the wind away。 O； that that earth which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw！ But soft！ but soft！ aside！
Here comes the King…
Enter ＇priests with＇ a coffin ＇in funeral procession＇； King；Queen；
Laertes； with Lords attendant。＇
The Queen； the courtiers。 Who is this they follow？ And with such
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
maimed rites？ This doth betoken The corse they follow did with desp'rate
hand Fordo it own life。 'Twas of some estate。 Couch we awhile； and
mark。＇Retires with Horatio。＇
Laer。 What ceremony else？ Ham。 That is Laertes； A very noble youth。
Mark。 Laer。 What ceremony else？ Priest。 Her obsequies have been as far
enlarg'd As we have warranty。 Her death was doubtful； And； but that great
command o'ersways the order； She should in ground unsanctified have
lodg'd Till the last trumpet。 For charitable prayers； Shards； flints； and
pebbles should be thrown on her。 Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites；
Her maiden strewments； and the bringing home Of bell and burial。 Laer。
Must there no more be done？ Priest。 No more be done。 We should profane
the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace…
parted souls。 Laer。 Lay her i' th' earth； And from her fair and unpolluted
flesh May violets spring！ I tell thee； churlish priest； A minist'ring angel
shall my sister be When thou liest howling。 Ham。 What； the fair Ophelia？
Queen。 Sweets to the sweet！ Farewell。＇Scatters flowers。＇ I hop'd thou
shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife； I thought thy bride…bed to have
deck'd； sweet maid； And not have strew'd thy grave。 Laer。 O； treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head Whose wicked deed thy most
ingenious sense Depriv'd thee of！ Hold off the earth awhile； Till I have
caught her once more in mine arms。Leaps in the grave。 Now pile your dust
upon the quick and dead Till of this flat a mountain you have made T'
o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head Of blue Olympus。 Ham。 ＇comes
forward＇ What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis？ whose phrase of
sorrow Conjures the wand'ring stars； and makes them stand Like wonder…
wounded hearers？ This is I； Hamlet the Dane。＇Leaps in after Laertes。 Laer。
The devil take thy soul！ ＇Grapples with him＇。 Ham。 Thou pray'st not well。
I prithee take thy fingers from my throat； For； though I am not splenitive
and rash； Yet have I in me something dangerous； Which let thy wisdom
fear。 Hold off thy hand！ King。 Pluck them asunder。 Queen。 Hamlet；
Hamlet！ All。 Gentlemen！ Hor。 Good my lord； be quiet。＇The Attendants part
them； and they come out of thegrave。＇ Ham。 Why； I will fight with him
upon this theme Until my eyelids will no longer wag。 Queen。 O my son；
what theme？ Ham。 I lov'd Ophelia。 Forty thousand brothers Could not
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
（with all their quantity of love） Make up my sum。 What wilt thou do for
her？ King。 O； he is mad； Laertes。 Queen。 For love of God； forbear him！
Ham。 'Swounds； show me what thou't do。 Woo't weep？ woo't fight？ woo't
fast？ woo't tear thyself？ Woo't drink up esill？ eat a crocodile？ I'll do't。 Dost
thou come here to whine？ To outface me with leap