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- Edition: Hamlet
Hamlet (Modern, Quarto 1)
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I say no, she ought not to be buried
Why, sir?
Marry, because she's drowned.
But she did not drown herself.
No, that's certain, the water drowned her.
Yea, but it was against her will.
No, I deny that, for look you, sir, I stand here.
Ay, but see, she hath Christian burial,
Marry, more's the pity that great folk
Why, a mason, for he builds all of stone,
That's pretty. To't again, to't again.
Why, then, a carpenter, for he builds the gallows,
Pretty again. The gallows doth well. Marry, how 32351928does it well? The gallows does well to them that do ill. 1929Go get thee gone.
16.29.1[Exit Second Clown.]
[He sings.]
A pick-ax and a spade,
16.32.1He throws up a shovel.
Hath this fellow any feeling of himself,
My lord, custom hath made it in him seem nothing.
A pick-ax and a spade, a spade,
16.41.1[He throws up skull.]
Look you, there's another, Horatio.
Ay, my lord, and of calves' skins too.
I'faith, they prove themselves sheep and calves
16.57There's another. Why may not that be Such-a-one's
Mine, sir.
But who must lie in it?
If I should say I should, I should lie in my throat, sir.
What man must be buried here?
No man, sir.
What woman?
No woman neither, sir, but indeed
An excellent fellow, by the Lord, Horatio.
I'faith, sir, if he be not rotten before
And why a tanner?
Why, his hide is so tanned with his trade
16.82.1[He picks up a skull.]
Ay, marry, how came he mad?
I'faith, very strangely: by losing of his wits.
Upon what ground?
O' this ground, in Denmark.
Where is he now?
Why, now they sent him to England.
To England! Wherefore?
Why, they say he shall have his wits there.
Why not there?
Why, there, they say, the men are as mad as he.
Whose skull was this?
This? A plague on him, a mad rogue's it was.
Was this? I prithee let me see it. [He takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick!
16.10533732009A fellow of infinite mirth. He hath carried me twenty times 33742010upon his back. Here hung those lips that I have kissed a 33752011hundred times, and to see, now they abhor me.--Where's 33772012your jests now, Yorick? Your flashes of merriment? Now go 33802013to my lady's chamber and bid her paint herself an inch 33812014thick, to this she must come, Yorick.--Horatio, I prithee 33832015tell me one thing. Dost thou think that Alexander looked 33862016thus?
Even so, my lord.
And smelt thus?
Ay, my lord, no otherwise.
No? Why might not imagination work as thus of 33962021Alexander: Alexander died. Alexander was buried. Alexander 2022became earth. Of earth we make clay. And Alexander being 33982023but clay, why might not time bring to pass that he might 33992024stop the bunghole of a beer-barrel?
What funeral's this that all the court laments?
16.114.1[Hamlet and Horatio conceal themselves.]
What ceremony else? Say, what ceremony else?
My lord, we have done all that lies in us,
So? I tell thee, churlish priest, a ministr'ing angel34322040shall my sister be when thou liest howling.
Sweets to the sweet, farewell!
Forbear the earth awhile. Sister, farewell.
16.129.1Hamlet leaps in after Laertes.
The devil take thy soul!
Oh, thou prayest not well.
Forbear, Laertes. Now is he mad as is the sea,
[To Laertes] What is the reason, sir, that you wrong me thus?
Alas, it is his madness makes him thus,
[To Laertes] My lord, 'tis so. [Aside to him] But we'll no longer trifle.
My lord, till then my soul will not be quiet.
Come Gertred, we'll have Laertes and our son
God grant they may!
16.162.1Exeunt omnes.