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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)

    The Tragedie of Hamlet
    Hor. I my lord, no otherwise.
    Ham. No, why might not imagination worke, as thus of
    Alexander, Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander
    became earth, of earth we make clay, and Alexander being
    but clay, why might not time bring to pa s s e, that he might
    stoppe the boung hole of a beere barrell?
    3400 Imperious sar dead and turnd to clay,
    Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the winde away.
    3405 Enter King and Queene, Leartes, and other lordes,
    3405 with a Prie st after the coffin.
    Ham. What funerall's this that all the Court laments?
    3410 It shews to be some noble parentage:
    Stand by a while.
    Lear. What ceremony else? say, what ceremony else?
    3415 Prie st My Lord, we haue done all that lies in vs,
    3415 And more than well the church can tolerate,
    3415.1 She hath had a Dirge sung for her maiden soule:
    And but for fauour of the king, and you,
    She had beene buried in the open fieldes,
    Where now she is allowed chri stian buriall.
    Lear. So, I tell thee churli sh Prie st, a mini string Angell
    shall my si ster be, when thou lie st howling.
    Ham. The faire Ofelia dead!
    3435 Queene Sweetes to the sweete, farewell:
    I had thought to adorne thy bridale bed, faire maide,
    And not to follow thee vnto thy graue.
    Lear. Forbeare the earth a while: si ster farewell:
    Leartes leapes into the graue.
    3445 Now powre your earth on, Olympus hie,
    And make a hill to o're top olde Pellon: Hamlet leapes in after Leartes
    Whats he that coniures so?
    Ham. Beholde tis I, Hamlet the Dane.
    Lear. The diuell take thy soule.
    3455 Ham. O thou praie st not well,
    I prethee take thy hand from off my throate,
    For there is something in me dangerous,