Home > Hamlet Text > Act V, Scene I - Page 2

FIRST CLOWN:

'tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again from me to
you.(125)

FIRST CLOWN:

It is a quick lie, sir, it will go away again from me to you.

HAMLET:

What man dost thou dig it for?

HAMLET:

What man dot you dig it for?

FIRST CLOWN:

For no man, sir.

FIRST CLOWN:

For no man, sir.

HAMLET:

What woman then?

HAMLET:

What woman then?

FIRST CLOWN:

For none, neither.

FIRST CLOWN:

For none neither.

HAMLET:

Who is to be buried in't?(130)

HAMLET:

Who is to be buried in it?

FIRST CLOWN:

One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul,
she's dead.

FIRST CLOWN:

One that was a woman, sir, but, rest her soul, she's dead.

HAMLET:

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(135)
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?

HAMLET:

How absolutely clever this chap is! We must speak by the
book or lying will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these
three years I have noted that the age is grown so picky
that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the
courtier, he hurts his feelings. How long have you been a
grave-maker?

FIRST CLOWN:

Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day
that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.(140)

FIRST CLOWN:

Of all the days in the year, I became a grave-maker the
day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

HAMLET:

How long is that since?

HAMLET:

How long is that since?

FIRST 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.

FIRST CLOWN:

Can’t you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the
very day that young Hamlet was born, he that is crazy
and sent into England.

HAMLET:

Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?(145)

HAMLET:

Yes, by Mary, why was he sent to England?

FIRST CLOWN:

Why, because a was mad. A shall recover his wits
there; or, if a do not, 'tis no great matter there.

FIRST CLOWN:

Why? Because he was crazy. He shall get his mind back
there, or, if he doesn’t, it's no great problem there.

HAMLET:

Why?

HAMLET:

Why?

FIRST CLOWN:

'Twill not he seen in him there. There the men are
as mad as he.(150)

FIRST CLOWN:

It will not be seen in him there. There the men are as
crazy as he is.

HAMLET:

How came he mad?

HAMLET:

How did he become crazy?

FIRST CLOWN:

Very strangely, they say.

FIRST CLOWN:

Very strangely, they say.

HAMLET:

How 'strangely'?

HAMLET:

How strangely?

FIRST CLOWN:

Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

FIRST CLOWN:

Actually, even by losing his mind.

HAMLET:

Upon what ground?(155)

HAMLET:

On what grounds?

FIRST CLOWN:

Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here,
man and boy, thirty years.

FIRST CLOWN:

Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man
and boy, thirty years.

HAMLET:

How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?

HAMLET:

How long will a man lie in the earth before he rots?

FIRST CLOWN:

I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die—as we
have many pocky corses nowadays that will scarce hold the(160)
laying in—he will last you some eight year or nine year. A
tanner will last you nine year.

FIRST CLOWN:

Well, if he’s not rotten before he dies, as we have many
small pox corpses nowadays that will scarce last beyond
the wake, he will last you some eight years or nine years.
A tanner will last you nine years.

HAMLET:

Why he more than another?

HAMLET:

Why he more than another?

FIRST CLOWN:

Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade that
a will keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore(165)
decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull, now.
This skull hath lain in the earth three and twenty years.

FIRST CLOWN:

Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade that he will
keep out water a great while, and your water is a sore
decayer of your wretched dead body. Here's a skull now.
This skull has been buried three-and-twenty years.

HAMLET:

Whose was it?

HAMLET:

Whose was it?

FIRST CLOWN:

A whoreson, mad fellow's it was. Whose do you
think it was?(170)

FIRST CLOWN:

A bastard, crazy fellow's it was. Whose do you think it
was?

HAMLET:

Nay, I know not.

HAMLET:

No, I know not.

FIRST CLOWN:

A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! A poured
a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir,
was Yorick's skull, the King's jester.

FIRST CLOWN:

A pestilence on him for a crazy rogue! He poured a pint
of Rhine wine on my head once. This same skull, sir, was
Yorick's skull, the king's jester.

HAMLET:

This?(175)

HAMLET:

This one?

FIRST CLOWN:

E'en that.

FIRST CLOWN:

Just that one.

HAMLET:

[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(180)
hung those lips that I have kissed 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
chop-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell(185)
her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one
thing.

HAMLET:

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew
him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite fun, of most excellent
imagination. He has carried me on his back a thousand
times, and now, how repulsed it is in my imagination! I
want to vomit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I
don’t know how many times. Where are your jokes now?
Your games? Your songs? Your flashes of laughter that
always make the audience roar? No one now, to mock
your own grinning? Quite jaw-fallen? Now, get you to my
lady's bedroom, and tell her, let her put on make-up an
inch thick, she must come to this party, make her laugh at
that. I beg you, Horatio, tell me one thing.

HORATIO:

What's that, my lord?

HORATIO:

What's that, my lord?

HAMLET:

Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'(190)
the earth?

HAMLET:

Do you think Alexander the Great looked like this in the earth?

HORATIO:

E'en so.

HORATIO:

Just like that

HAMLET:

And smelt so? Pah!

HAMLET:

And smelled so? Yuck!

HORATIO:

E'en so, my lord.

HORATIO:

Just like that, my lord.

HAMLET:

To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may(195)
not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he
find it stopping a bung-hole?

HAMLET:

What common uses we may return to, Horatio! Why can’t
imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander until he
finds it stopping a wine barrel?

HORATIO:

'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.

HORATIO:

It’s thinking about it too much to think like that.

HAMLET:

No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with
modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus:(200)
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,(205)
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!
But soft! but soft awhile! Here comes the King,
The Queen, the courtiers.(210)

[Enter Priests, in procession, corpes of Ophelia, Laertes and Mourners following King, Queen, and Attendants.]

Who is this they follow?
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Fordo it own life. 'Twas of some estate.
Couch we awhile, and mark.(215)

HAMLET:

No, really, not a jot, but to follow his trip with modesty
enough, and likelihood to lead it. Like this, Alexander
died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returned to dust,
the dust is earth, from earth we make clay, and why of
that clay he was converted to, might they not stop a beer-
barrel? Emperor Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, that the earth which kept the world in fear
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's cold!
But quiet! But quiet! Hide! Here comes the king.
The queen, the courtiers.

Who is that they’re following?
And with such shortened rites? This shows that
The corpse they follow did, with a desperate hand,
Commit suicide. It was of some nobility.
Let’s hide and listen.

LAERTES:

What ceremony else?

LAERTES:

What other ceremony?

HAMLET:

That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark.

HAMLET:

That is Laertes,
A very noble youth. Look.

LAERTES:

What ceremony else?

LAERTES:

What other ceremony?

PRIEST:

Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful;(220)
And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodged
Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers,
Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,(225)
Her maiden strewments and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.

PRIEST:

Her funeral rites have been as far enlarged
As we can enlarge. Her death was questionable,
And, except that the King ordered it,
She should be buried in unblessed ground
For eternity, except for charitable prayers,
Glass, rocks, and stone should be thrown on her,
Yet here she is allowed to have her virgin rites,
Her maiden clothing, and the local funeral
With bells and burial.

LAERTES:

Must there no more be done?

LAERTES:

Isn’t there more be done?

PRIEST:

No more be done.
We should profane the service of the dead(230)
To sing a requiem and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.

PRIEST:

No more be done,
We should violate the service of the dead
To sing a requiem mass and give her the same rites
As those for peacefully-parted souls.

LAERTES:

Lay her i' the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,(235)
A ministering angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.

LAERTES:

Lay her in the earth,
And may violets spring from her fair
And unpolluted flesh! I tell you, churlish priest,
My sister shall be a ministering angel
When you lie howling.

HAMLET:

What, the fair Ophelia?

HAMLET:

What, the fair Ophelia?

QUEEN:

Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;(240)
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not have strew'd thy grave.

QUEEN:

Sweets to the sweet. farewell.
I hoped you would have been my Hamlet's wife,
I thought to have decorated your bride-bed, sweet maid,
And not your grave.

LAERTES:

O, treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense(245)
Deprived 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
To o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head(250)
Of blue Olympus.

LAERTES:

O, three times sorrow
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head
Whose wicked deed deprived you of your most wonderful
Intelligence! Stop the burial a while,
Until I hold her once more in mine arms.

Now bury the living and dead,
Until you have made a mountain from this flat earth
To be higher than the mountain of Italy or the skyish head
Of blue Mount Olympus.

HAMLET:

What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandering stars and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,(255)
Hamlet the Dane.

HAMLET:

What is he whose grief
Is so dramatic? Whose words of sorrow
Summon the wandering stars, and makes them stand still
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane.

[Leaps in after Laertes.]