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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)
  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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 2, 1604)

    Enter two Clownes.
    3190Clowne. Is shee to be buried in Christian buriall, when she wilfully
    seekes her owne saluation?
    Other. I tell thee she is, therfore make her graue straight, the crow-
    ner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian buriall.
    3195Clowne. How can that be, vnlesse she drown'd herselfe in her owne
    Other. Why tis found so.
    Clowne. It must be so offended, it cannot be els, for heere lyes the
    poynt, if I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues an act, & an act hath
    3200three branches, it is to act, to doe, to performe, or all; she drownd her
    selfe wittingly.
    Other. Nay, but heare you good man deluer.
    Clowne. Giue mee leaue, here lyes the water, good, here stands the
    3205man, good, if the man goe to this water & drowne himselfe, it is will
    he, nill he, he goes, marke you that, but if the water come to him, &
    drowne him, he drownes not himselfe, argall, he that is not guilty of
    his owne death, shortens not his owne life.
    3210Other. But is this law?
    Clowne. I marry i'st, Crowners quest law.
    Other. Will you ha the truth an't, if this had not beene a gentlewo-
    man, she should haue been buried out a christian buriall.
    3215Clowne. Why there thou sayst, and the more pitty that great folke
    should haue countnaunce in this world to drowne or hang thēselues,
    more then theyr euen Christen: Come my spade, there is no aunci-
    ent gentlemen but Gardners, Ditchers, and Grauemakers, they hold
    vp Adams profession.
    Other. Was he a gentleman?
    Clowne. A was the first that euer bore Armes.
    Ile put another question to thee, if thou answerest me not to the pur-
    pose, confesse thy selfe.
    Other. Goe to.
    3230Clow. What is he that builds stronger then eyther the Mason, the
    Shypwright, or the Carpenter.
    Other. The gallowes maker, for that out-liues a thousand tenants.
    Clowne. I like thy wit well in good fayth, the gallowes dooes well,
    3235but howe dooes it well? It dooes well to those that do ill, nowe thou
    doost ill to say the gallowes is built stronger then the Church, argall,
    the gallowes may doo well to thee. Too't againe, come.
    Other. VVho buildes stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright, or a
    Clowne. I, tell me that and vnyoke.
    Other. Marry now I can tell.
    Clowne. Too't.
    Other. Masse I cannot tell.
    Clow. Cudgell thy braines no more about it, for your dull asse wil
    not mend his pace with beating, and when you are askt this question
    next, say a graue-maker, the houses hee makes lasts till Doomesday.
    Goe get thee in, and fetch mee a soope of liquer.
    In youth when I did loue did loue, Song.
    Me thought it was very sweet
    To contract ô the time for a my behoue,
    3255 O me thought there a was nothing a meet.
    Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
    Ham. Has this fellowe no feeling of his busines? a sings in graue-
    Hora. Custome hath made it in him a propertie of easines.
    3260Ham. Tis een so, the hand of little imploiment hath the dintier sence
    But age with his stealing steppes Song.
    hath clawed me in his clutch,
    3265And hath shipped me into the land,
    as if I had neuer been such.
    Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once, how the
    knaue iowles it to the ground, as if twere Caines iawbone, that did the
    first murder, this might be the pate of a pollitician, which this asse now
    3270ore-reaches; one that would circumuent God, might it not?
    Hora. It might my Lord.
    Ham. Or of a Courtier, which could say good morrow sweet lord,
    how doost thou sweet lord? This might be my Lord such a one, that
    3275praised my lord such a ones horse when a went to beg it, might it not?
    Hor. I my Lord.
    Ham. Why een so, & now my Lady wormes Choples, & knockt
    about the massene with a Sextens spade; heere's fine reuolution and
    3280we had the tricke to see't, did these bones cost no more the breeding,
    but to play at loggits with them: mine ake to thinke on't.
    A pickax and a spade a spade, Song.
    for and a shrowding sheet,
    O a pit of Clay for to be made
    for such a guest is meet.
    Ham. There's another, why may not that be the skull of a Lawyer,
    3290where be his quiddities now, his quillites, his cases, his tenurs, and his
    tricks? why dooes he suffer this madde knaue now to knocke him a-
    bout the sconce with a durtie shouell, and will not tell him of his acti-
    on of battery, hum, this fellowe might be in's time a great buyer of
    3295Land, with his Statuts, his recognisances, his fines, his double vou-
    chers, his recoueries, to haue his fine pate full of fine durt, will vou-
    chers vouch him no more of his purchases & doubles then the length
    3300and breadth of a payre of Indentures? The very conueyances of his
    Lands will scarcely lye in this box, & must th'inheritor himselfe haue
    no more, ha.
    Hora. Not a iot more my Lord.
    3305Ham. Is not Parchment made of sheepe-skinnes?
    Hora. I my Lord, and of Calues-skinnes to.
    Ham. They are Sheepe and Calues which seeke out assurance in
    that, I wil speak to this fellow. Whose graue's this sirra?
    3310Clow. Mine sir, or a pit of clay for to be made.
    Ham. I thinke it be thine indeede, for thou lyest in't.
    Clow. You lie out ont sir, and therefore tis not yours; for my part I
    3315doe not lie in't, yet it is mine.
    Ham. Thou doost lie in't to be in't & say it is thine, tis for the dead,
    not for the quicke, therefore thou lyest.
    Clow. Tis a quicke lye sir, twill away againe from me to you.
    Ham. What man doost thou digge it for?
    Clow. For no man sir.
    Ham. What woman then?
    Clow. For none neither.
    3325Ham. Who is to be buried in't?
    Clow. One that was a woman sir, but rest her soule shee's dead.
    Ham. How absolute the knaue is, we must speake by the card, or
    equiuocation will vndoo vs. By the Lord Horatio, this three yeeres I
    3330haue tooke note of it, the age is growne so picked, that the toe of the
    pesant coms so neere the heele of the Courtier he galls his kybe. How
    long hast thou been Graue-maker?
    Clow. Of the dayes i'th yere I came too't that day that our last king
    3335Hamlet ouercame Fortenbrasse.
    Ham. How long is that since?
    Clow. Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that, it was that
    very day that young Hamlet was borne: hee that is mad and sent into
    3340Ham. I marry, why was he sent into England?
    Clow. Why because a was mad: a shall recouer his wits there, or if
    a doo not, tis no great matter there.
    Ham. Why?
    Clow. Twill not be seene in him there, there the men are as mad (as hee.
    Ham. How came he mad?
    Clow. Very strangely they say.
    Ham. How strangely?
    Clow. Fayth eene with loosing his wits.
    3350Ham. Vpon what ground?
    Clow. Why heere in Denmarke: I haue been Sexten heere man
    and boy thirty yeeres.
    Ham. How long will a man lie i'th earth ere he rot?
    Clow. Fayth if a be not rotten before a die, as we haue many poc-
    3355kie corses, that will scarce hold the laying in, a will last you som eyght
    yeere, or nine yeere. A Tanner will last you nine yeere.
    Ham. Why he more then another?
    Clow. Why sir, his hide is so tand with his trade, that a will keepe
    3360out water a great while; & your water is a sore decayer of your whor-
    son dead body, heer's a scull now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres.
    Ham. Whose was it?
    Clow. A whorson mad fellowes it was, whose do you think it was?
    Ham. Nay I know not.
    Clow. A pestilence on him for a madde rogue, a pourd a flagon of
    Renish on my head once; this same skull sir, was sir Yoricks skull, the
    Kings Iester.
    3370Ham. This?
    Clow. Een that.
    Ham. Alas poore Yoricke, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite
    iest, of most excellent fancie, hee hath bore me on his backe a thou-
    sand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is: my gorge
    3375rises at it. Heere hung those lyppes that I haue kist I know not howe
    oft, where be your gibes now? your gamboles, your songs, your fla-
    shes of merriment, that were wont to set the ta
    ble on a roare, not one
    now to mocke your owne grinning, quite chopfalne. Now get you
    3380to my Ladies table, & tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fa-
    uour she must come, make her laugh at that.
    Prethee Horatio tell me one thing.
    Hora. What's that my Lord?
    3385Ham. Doost thou thinke Alexander lookt a this fashion i'th earth?
    Hora. Een so.
    Ham. And smelt so pah.
    Hora. Een so my Lord.
    3390Ham. To what base vses wee may returne Horatio? Why may not
    imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till a find it stopping
    a bunghole?
    Hor. Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.
    Ham. No faith, not a iot, but to follow him thether with modesty
    3395enough, and likelyhood to leade it. Alexander dyed, Alexander was
    buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth vvee
    make Lome, & why of that Lome whereto he was conuerted, might
    they not stoppe a Beare-barrell?
    3400Imperious sar dead, and turn'd to Clay,
    Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the wind away.
    O that that earth which kept the world in awe,
    Should patch a wall t'expell the waters flaw.
    But soft, but soft awhile, here comes the King, Enter K. Q.
    The Queene, the Courtiers, who is this they follow? Laertes and the corse.
    And with such maimed rites? this doth betoken,
    The corse they follow, did with desprat hand
    3410Foredoo it owne life, twas of some estate,
    Couch we a while and marke.
    Laer. What Ceremonie els?
    Ham. That is Laertes a very noble youth, marke.
    Laer. What Ceremonie els?
    3415Doct. Her obsequies haue been as farre inlarg'd
    As we haue warrantie, her death was doubtfull,
    And but that great commaund ore-swayes the order,
    She should in ground vnsanctified been lodg'd
    Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,
    3420Flints and peebles should be throwne on her:
    Yet heere she is allow'd her virgin Crants,
    Her mayden strewments, and the bringing home
    Of bell and buriall.
    Laer. Must there no more be doone?
    3425Doct. No more be doone.
    We should prophane the seruice of the dead,
    To sing a Requiem and such rest to her
    As to peace-parted soules.
    Laer. Lay her i'th earth,
    3430And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh
    May Violets spring: I tell thee churlish Priest,
    A ministring Angell shall my sister be
    When thou lyest howling.
    Ham. What, the faire Ophelia.
    3435Quee. Sweets to the sweet, farewell,
    I hop't thou should'st haue been my Hamlets wife,
    I thought thy bride-bed to haue deckt sweet maide,
    And not haue strew'd thy graue.
    Laer. O treble woe
    3440Fall tenne times double on that cursed head,
    Whose wicked deede thy most ingenious sence
    Depriued thee of, hold off the earth a while,
    Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes;
    3445Now pile your dust vpon the quicke and dead,
    Till of this flat a mountaine you haue made
    To'retop old Pelion, or the skyesh head
    Of blew Olympus.
    Ham. What is he whose griefe
    3450Beares such an emphesis, whose phrase of sorrow
    Coniures the wandring starres, and makes them stand
    Like wonder wounded hearers: this is I
    Hamlet the Dane.
    Laer. The deuill take thy soule.
    3455Ham. Thou pray'st not well, I prethee take thy fingers (from my throat,
    For though I am not spleenatiue rash,
    Yet haue I in me something dangerous,
    Which let thy wisedome feare; hold off thy hand,
    3460King. Pluck them a sunder.
    Quee. Hamlet, Hamlet.
    3461.1All. Gentlemen.
    Hora. Good my Lord be quiet.
    Ham. Why, I will fight with him vpon this theame
    Vntill my eye-lids will no longer wagge.
    3465Quee. O my sonne, what theame?
    Ham. I loued Ophelia, forty thousand brothers
    Could not with all theyr quantitie of loue
    Make vp my summe. What wilt thou doo for her.
    King. O he is mad Laertes.
    3470Quee. For loue of God forbeare him.
    Ham. S'wounds shew me what th'owt doe:
    Woo't weepe, woo't fight, woo't fast, woo't teare thy selfe,
    Woo't drinke vp Esill, eate a Crocadile?
    Ile doo't, doost come heere to whine?
    3475To out-face me with leaping in her graue,
    Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
    And if thou prate of mountaines, let them throw
    Millions of Acres on vs, till our ground
    Sindging his pate against the burning Zone
    3480Make Ossa like a wart, nay and thou'lt mouthe,
    Ile rant as well as thou.
    Quee. This is meere madnesse,
    And this a while the fit will worke on him,
    Anon as patient as the female Doue
    3485When that her golden cuplets are disclosed
    His silence will sit drooping.
    Ham. Heare you sir,
    What is the reason that you vse me thus?
    I lou'd you euer, but it is no matter,
    3490Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may
    The Cat will mew, and Dogge will haue his day. Exit Hamlet and Horatio.
    King. I pray thee good Horatio waite vpon him.
    Strengthen your patience in our last nights speech,
    Weele put the matter to the present push:
    3495Good Gertrard set some watch ouer your sonne,
    This graue shall haue a liuing monument,
    An houre of quiet thereby shall we see
    Tell then in patience our proceeding be. Exeunt.