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. the Tragical History of . H A M L E T . Prince of Denmark .
(In the original language with modernized spelling)
- Scene 19 [~ Poor Yorick ~] (Act 5 scene 1)
Setting: Outside the Castle;- The town Graveyard;
Daytime.
(two Clowns enter, a sexton Gravedigger and a Bailiff)
Gravedigger: Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she willfully- seeks her own salvation?
- Bailiff: I tell thee she is; therefore, make her grave straight; the
- crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.
- Grav: How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own
- defense?
- Bail: Why, 'tis found so.
- Grav: It must be so offended, it cannot be else; for, here lies the
- point - if I drown my self wittingly, it argues an act, & an act hath
three branches: it is to act, to doe, to perform, or all; she drowned her
self wittingly.
- Bail: Nay, but hear you, good man delver . . .
- Grav: Give me leave; here lies the water; good, here stands the
- man, good; if the man go to this water & drown himself, it is will
he, nill he, he goes, mark you that, but if the water come to him, &
drown him, he drowns not himself; argall, he that is not guilty of
his own death, shortens not his own life.
- Bail: But is this law?
- Grav: Aye, marry, is it! Crowner's quest law.
- Bail: Will you have the truth on it? If this had not been a gentlewoman,
- she should have been buried out of Christian burial.
- Grav: Why, there thou sayest; and the more pity that great folk
- should have countenance in this world to drown or hang theyselves,
more then their even Christian. Come, my spade; there is no ancient
gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers; they hold
up Adam's profession.
- Bail: Was he a gentleman?
- Grav: He was the first that ever bore arms.
- Bail: Why, he had none.
- Grav: What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand
- the Scripture? The Scripture says Adam digged;
could he dig without arms?
I'll put another question to thee; if thou answerest me not to the
purpose, confess thyself.
- Bail: Go to.
- Grav: What is he that builds stronger then either the mason, the
- shipwright, or the carpenter?
- Bail: The gallows maker, for that outlives a thousand tenants.
- Grav: I like thy wit well, in good faith, the gallows does well,
- but how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now thou
dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church, argall,
the gallows may do well to thee. To it again, come.
- Bail: Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
- carpenter?
- Grav: Aye, tell me that, and unyoke.
- Bail: Marry, now I can tell!
- Grav: To it.
- Bail: Mass, I cannot tell.
- Grav: Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for, your dull ass will
- not mend his pace with beating, and when you are asked this question
next, say "a gravemaker." The houses he makes last till doomsday.
Go, get thee in, and fetch me a soup of liquor.
(the Bailiff exits)
(the Gravedigger continues, singing):
In youth, when I did love, did love,- Methought it was very sweet
- To contract o' the time for a' my behoove,
- Oh, methought there a' was nothing a' meet.
(Hamlet and Horatio enter)
Hamlet: Has this fellow no feeling of his business? He sings in- grave making.
- Horatio: Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
- Hamlet: 'Tis even so; the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
- Gravedigger (sings):
But age, with his stealing steps,- hath clawed me in his clutch,
- And hath shipped me into the land,
- as if I had never been such.
(the Gravedigger tosses a skull out of the grave he's digging)
Hamlet: That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once; how the
- knave jowls it to the ground, as if 'twere Cain's jawbone, that did the
first murder; this might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now
o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?
- Horatio: It might, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Or of a Courtier, which could say good morrow, sweet lord,
- how dost thou, sweet lord? This might be my Lord Such-a-one, that
praised my Lord Such-a-one's horse when he went to beg it, might it not?
- Hora: Aye, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Why even so, & now my Lady Worm's; chopless, & knocked
- about the mazzard with a sexton's spade; here's fine revolution and
we had the trick to see it; did these bones cost no more the breeding,
but to play at loggats with them? Mine ache to think on it.
- Gravedigger (sings):
A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,- for and a shrouding sheet,
- Oh, a pit of clay for to be made
- for such a guest is meet.
(the Gravedigger tosses out another skull)
Hamlet: There's another; why, may not that be the skull of a lawyer?- Where be his quiddities now, his quillites, his cases, his tenures, and his
tricks? Why does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him about
the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action
of battery? Hm, this fellow might be, in his time, a great buyer of
land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his
recoveries; to have his fine pate full of fine dirt, will vouchers
vouch him no more of his purchases & doubles than the length
and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his
lands will scarcely lie in this box, & must the inheritor himself have
no more? Ha.
- Horatio: Not a jot more, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
- Hora: Aye, my Lord, and of calfskins too.
- Hamlet: They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in
- that; I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this sirrah?
- Gravedigger: Mine, sir, or a pit of clay for to be made.
- Hamlet: I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in it.
- Grav: You lie out on it, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours; for my part I
- do not lie in it, yet it is mine.
- Hamlet: Thou dost lie in it, to be in it & say it is thine; 'tis for the dead,
- not for the quick, therefore, thou liest.
- Grav: 'Tis a quick lie, sir, 'twill away again from me to you.
- Hamlet: What man dost thou dig it for?
- Grav: For no man, sir.
- Hamlet: What woman, then?
- Grav: For none, neither.
- Hamlet: Who is to be buried in it?
- Grav: 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 took 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 kybe. How
long hast thou been gravemaker?
- Grav: Of the days in the year, I came to it that day that our last king,
- Hamlet, overcame Fortinbrasse.
- Hamlet: How long is that since?
- Grav: Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that; it was that
- very day that young Hamlet was born: he that is mad and sent into
England.
- Hamlet: Aye, marry, why was he sent into England?
- Grav: Why? Because he was mad! He shall recover his wits there, or if
- he do not, 'tis no great matter there.
- Hamlet: Why?
- Grav: 'Twill not be seen in him there; there, the men are as mad
- as he.
- Hamlet: How came he mad?
- Grav: Very strangely, they say.
- Hamlet: How strangely?
- Grav: Faith, even with losing his wits.
- Hamlet: Upon what ground?
- Grav: Why, here in Denmark! I have been sexton here, man
- and boy, thirty years.
- Hamlet: How long will a man lie in the earth ere he rot?
- Grav: Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, (as we have many
- pocky corpses, that will scarce hold the laying in,) he will last you some eight
year, or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year.
- Hamlet: Why he more then another?
- Grav: Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he will keep
- out water a great while; & your water is a sore decayer of your whorson
dead body; here's a skull, now, hath lain you in the earth 23 years.
- Hamlet: Whose was it?
- Grav: A whoreson mad fellow's it was; whose do you think it was?
- Hamlet: Nay, I know not.
- Grav: A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! He poured a flagon of
- Rhenish on my head once; this same skull sir, was Sir Yorick's skull, the
King's Jester.
- Hamlet: This?
- Grav: Even that.
- Hamlet: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite
- jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath bore 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 kissed, I know not how
often; 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 chopfallen. Now get you
to my lady's table, & tell her: let her paint an inch thick, to this favor
she must come; make her laugh at that.
Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
- Horatio: What's that, my Lord?
- Hamlet: Dost thou think, Alexander, looked he this fashion in the earth?
- Hora: Even so.
- Hamlet: And smelt so? Pah.
- Hora: Even so, my Lord.
- Hamlet: 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?
- Hora: 'Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.
- Hamlet: No, faith, not a jot. But, to follow him thither with modesty
- enough, and likelihood to lead it. Alexander died, Alexander was
buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we
make loam, & why, of that loam whereto he was converted, might
they not stop a beer-barrel?
(recites):
Imperious Caesar dead, and turned to clay,- Might stop a hole, to keep the wind away.
- Oh, that that earth which kept the world in awe,
- Should patch a wall to expel the water's flaw.
(Ophelia's funeral procession enters, with her corpse;- Claudius, Gertrude, and Laertes enter, followed by courtiers)
(the Gravedigger sexton goes to ring the church bell)
(Hamlet continues):- But soft, but soft awhile; here comes the King,
The Queen, the courtiers; who is this they follow?
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
The corse they follow, did with desperate hand
Fordo its own life; 'twas of some estate;
Couch we a while, and mark.
- Laertes: What ceremony else?
- Hamlet: That is Laertes, a very noble youth, mark.
- Laer: What ceremony else?
- Doctor of Divinity: Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
- As we have warranty; her death was doubtful,
And but that great command o'er-sways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified been lodged
Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers,
Flints and pebbles should be thrown on her.
Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.
- Laer: Must there no more be done?
- Doct: 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 in the earth,
- And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
A ministering angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.
- Hamlet: What, the fair Ophelia?!
- Gertrude: Sweets to the sweet, farewell.
- I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not have strewed thy grave.
- Laer: Oh, treble woe
- Fall ten times double on that cursed head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
Deprived thee of; hold off the earth a while,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms!
(Laertes jumps down into the grave)
(Laertes continues):- 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
Of blue 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,
Hamlet the Dane!
(Hamlet jumps down into the grave with Laertes)
Laertes: The Devil take thy soul!- Hamlet: Thou prayest not well; I prithee, take thy fingers
- From my throat.
For, though I am not splenative rash,
Yet have I, in me, something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear; hold off thy hand.
- Claudius: Pluck them asunder!
- Gertrude: Hamlet, Hamlet!
- All: Gentlemen!
- Horatio: Good my Lord, be quiet!
- Hamlet: Why, I will fight with him upon this theme
- Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
- Gert: Oh, my son, what theme?
- Hamlet: I loved Ophelia! Forty thousand brothers
- Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum.
(to Laertes):
What wilt thou do for her?
- Clau: Oh, he is mad, Laertes.
- Gert: For love of God, forbear him!
- Hamlet: Zounds, show me what thou't do!
- Woo't weep, woo't fight, woo't fast, woo't tear thy self,
Woo't drink up Esill, eat a crocodile?
I'll do it! Dost come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I!
And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, and thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
- Gert: This is mere madness,
- And thus, a while, the fit will work on him;
Anon, as patient as the female dove,
When that her golden cuplets are disclosed,
His silence will sit drooping.
- Hamlet: Hear you, sir,
- What is the reason that you use me thus?
I loved you, ever; but it is no matter;
Let Hercules, himself, do what he may,
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
(Hamlet exits;- Horatio exits)
Claudius: I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.- (to Laertes):
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;
We'll put the matter to the present push.
(Gertrude exits)
(Claudius continues):
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.
This grave shall have a living monument;
An hour of quiet thereby shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
(all exit)
End of Scene 19
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. The Tragedy of . H A M L E T . Prince of Denmark .
(In simplified modern English translation)
- Scene 19 [~ Poor Yorick ~] (Act 5 scene 1)
Setting: Outside the Castle;- The town Graveyard;
Daytime.
(two Clowns enter, a sexton Gravedigger and a Bailiff)
Gravedigger: Is she to have a Christian burial, when she intentionally- killed herself?
- Bailiff: I tell you she is, so make her grave right away, properly. The
- coroner has sat in judgment, and finds it to be Christian burial.
- Grav: How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own
- defense?
- Bail: Why, it has been decided so.
- Grav: It must be a technicality, it can't be otherwise. For, here's the
- point: if I drown myself intentionally it's an act, and an act has
three branches, which are to act, to do, to perform, or all of those, so she
drowned herself intentionally.
- Bail: No, but listen, you gravedigger . . .
- Grav: Let me continue. Here is the water, good, and here stands a
- man, good. Now, if the man goes to the water and drowns himself it
just happens, there he goes, be sure of that. But if the water comes to him and
drowns him, he doesn't drown himself, ergo, he isn't guilty of his own
death, and doesn't shorten his own life.
- Bail: But is this the law?
- Grav: Yes, indeed, it's crowner's quest law.
- Bail: Do you want the truth of it? If this had not been a gentlewomen,
- she would have been buried without Christian burial.
- Grav: Why, you have said it there. And more's the pity that
- high-status people have permission in this world to drown or hang
themselves, more than poor people who are equally Christians have. Now,
my spade. In ancient times there were no gentleman except for gardeners,
ditchers, and gravediggers, since they followed Adam's profession.
- Bail: Was Adam a gentleman?
- Grav: Yes, he was the first man that ever bore arms.
- Bail: Why, he had no arms.
- Grav: What, are you a heathen? Don't you understand
- Holy Scripture? The Scripture says Adam dug.
How could he dig without arms?
I'll put another question to you, and if you can't answer it
correctly, admit that I've got you.
- Bail: Go ahead.
- Grav: Who is he that builds stronger than a mason, a
- shipwright, or a carpenter?
- Bail: The gallows-maker, because the gallows outlasts a thousand occupants.
- Grav: I like your cleverness. Indeed, the gallows is an answer that does well.
- But how does it do well? The gallows does well to criminals who do ill.
But you do ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church, ergo,
the gallows might do well for you. Try again.
- Bail: Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
- carpenter, is that the question?
- Grav: Yes, tell me the answer, and be done with it.
- Bail: Goodness, now I know!
- Grav: Let's hear it.
- Bail: Oh dear, I don't know.
- Grav: Don't beat your brain any more about it, since a slow jackass won't
- go faster if you beat it. The next time you're asked the question, say
"a grave-maker," because the homes he makes will last until doomsday.
Go inside and get me some ale broth.
(the Bailiff exits)
Gravedigger (sings):
In youth when I did love, did love,- I thought it was very sweet,
- To spend my time all as I pleased,
- Oh, I thought there was nothing so meet.
(Hamlet and Horatio enter)
Hamlet: Doesn't this fellow have any feeling for what he's doing? He's singing- while digging a grave.
- Horatio: He's so used to it, it doesn't bother him.
- Hamlet: So it is. A hand not callused by hard work has a more sensitive touch.
- Gravedigger (sings):
But old age has caught up to me,- death has grabbed me in his clutches,
- And I've been buried in the ground,
- as if I had never been such (a young man.)
(the Gravedigger tosses a skull out of the grave he's digging)
Hamlet: That skull once had a tongue in it, and could sing. Look how the- knave tosses it on the ground, as if it were the jawbone of Cain, who did the
first murder. It might be the head of a politician, whom this jackass now
outranks. Or, one who wanted to fool God, might it not be?
- Horatio: It might be, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Or, that of a courtier, who could say, "Good morning, sweet Lord,
- how are you, sweet Lord?" It might be Lord So-and-so, who once
praised the horse of Lord Whoever when he wanted to borrow it, might it not?
- Hora: Yes, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Yes, even so, and now it's Lady Worm's - jawless, and hit
- on the head with a sexton's spade. Here's a fine turn of events, and
we had the luck to see it. Were these bones worth no more in their creation,
but, only for playing games with them? My bones ache, to think about it.
- Gravedigger (sings):
A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,- and also a shrouding sheet,
- Oh, a pit of clay that's to be made,
- for such a guest, is meet.
(the Gravedigger tosses out another skull)
Hamlet: There's another one! Why, couldn't that be the skull of a lawyer?- Where are his legal technicalities now, his cases, his terms, and his
legal tricks? Why does he tolerate that this mad knave can now knock him
over the head with a dirty shovel, and not have him arrested
for battery? Hm, this fellow, in his time, might have been a great buyer of
land, with his contracts, his bonds, his fines, his double vouchers, and his
lawsuits. Now, he has his fine head full of fine dirt, and will vouchers
vouch him no more, on his purchases and doubles, than the length
and width of a pair of contract indentures? All his paperwork for his
lands would hardly fit inside his grave plot, but the only land he's
ended up with is the size of his own grave. Ha!
- Horatio: Not a bit more than that, my Lord.
- Hamlet: Isn't parchment made of sheepskin?
- Hora: Yes, my Lord, and of calfskin, too.
- Hamlet: People are only sheep and calves if they find assurance in
- land deeds. I'll talk to the fellow. Whose grave is this, sirrah?
- Gravedigger: It's my grave, sir. Or, a pit of clay that's to be made.
- Hamlet: I think it must be your grave, indeed, because you're lying in it.
- Grav: You're lying out of it, sir, so it can't be yours. As for me, I don't
- lie in it, but it's mine.
- Hamlet: You do lie in it, to be in it and say it's yours. It's for the dead,
- not the quick, therefore you lie.
- Grav: It's a quick lie, sir, because it will quickly go from me back to you.
- Hamlet: What man do you dig it for?
- Grav: For no man, sir.
- Hamlet: What woman, then?
- Grav: For no woman, either.
- Hamlet: Who's to be buried in it?
- Grav: One who was a woman, sir, but rest her soul, she's dead.
- Hamlet (to Horatio): The knave is so literal! We must speak exactly by the
- dictionary or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, for three
years I have noticed, the times have become so mixed up, the toe of the
peasant walks so near the heel of the courtier that he rubs it raw.
(to the Gravedigger): How long have you been a grave-maker?
- Grav: Of the days in the year, the date I began was the same as when
- our former King Hamlet Sr defeated Fortinbrasse Sr.
- Hamlet: How long ago was that?
- Grav: Don't you know? Any fool knows that. It was the very same date that
- young Hamlet was born - he who went mad, and was sent to
England.
- Hamlet: Oh, goodness, why was he sent to England?
- Grav: Why? Because he was mad. He'll recover his wits there, or if
- he doesn't, it won't matter there.
- Hamlet: Why not?
- Grav: Nobody will notice his madness there, because there, all the men
- are as crazy as he is.
- Hamlet: How did he become mad?
- Grav: Very strangely, they say.
- Hamlet: How strangely?
- Grav: Goodness, he went mad by losing his mind.
- Hamlet: But upon what grounds?
-
- Grav: Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy,
- for thirty years.
- Hamlet: How long will a man lie in the earth before he rots?
- Grav: Well, if he isn't already rotten before he dies, (and we get many
- diseased corpses that will hardly hold together for burial,) a body will last
for eight years, or nine years. A tanner will last nine years.
- Hamlet: Why will his body last longer than another?
- Grav: Why, sir, his own hide is so tanned from his occupation, that it will
- keep out water a long time, and water is a good decayer of your bastard
dead body. Now, here's a skull that's been in the earth for 23 years.
- Hamlet: Whose was it?
- Grav: A bastard mad fellow's, it was! Whose did you think it was?
- Hamlet, No, I don't know.
- Grav: I curse him for a mad rogue! He once poured a mug of
- wine on my head. This very skull, sir, was Sir Yorick's skull, the
King's Jester.
- Hamlet: This?
- Grav: Yes, that.
- Hamlet: Alas, poor Yoricke. I knew him, Horatio, he was a fellow of unlimited
- jest, of most excellent whimsy. He carried me on his back a thousand
times, and now how abhorrent to my thoughts his skull is. I feel nauseous
looking at it. Here were those lips that I once kissed, I don't know how
often. Where is your teasing, now? Your frolicking, your songs, your varieties
of merriment, that would make everyone at the table laugh out loud? There's
no one now to ridicule your own grinning, quite agape. Now, go
to my lady's table, and tell her, put her makeup on an inch thick, because she,
herself, must eventually come to be like this, and make her laugh at that.
Please, Horatio, tell me one thing.
- Horatio: What's that, my Lord?
- Hamlet: Do you think Alexander the Great looked like this in the earth?
- Hora: Yes, even so.
- Hamlet: And smelled so? Pah!
- Hora: Even so, my Lord.
- Hamlet: To what crude uses may we return, Horatio? Why can't
- imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, until we find it plugging
a beer barrel?
- Hora: It would be considered odd to think in that way.
- Hamlet: No, indeed, not at all, it's only to track his dust with enough
- humility and probability to guide us. Alexander died, Alexander was
buried, Alexander returned to the dust, the dust is the earth, out of earth we
make loam, so why couldn't that loam into which Alexander was converted
be used to make a plug for a beer barrel?
(recites):
Imperious Caesar dead, and turned into clay,- Might plug up a hole to keep the wind away.
- Oh, that that earth which kept the world in awe
- Should patch a wall to keep out the water's flaw.
(Ophelia's funeral procession enters, with her corpse;- Claudius, Gertrude, and Laertes enter, followed by courtiers)
(the Gravedigger sexton goes to ring the church bell)
(Hamlet continues):- But quiet, quiet for a while, here comes the King, and
The Queen, the courtiers - and who is this they follow?
And with such impaired rites? This indicates,
The corpse they follow, did, with a desperate hand,
Take its own life. It was of some high estate.
Let's hide here a while and watch.
- Laertes: What ceremony, in addition to this?
- Hamlet: That is Laertes, a very noble youth, notice.
- Laer: What other ceremony?
- Protestant Clergyman: Her funeral rites have been expanded as far
- As we are permitted to do. Her death was doubtful,
And except that a royal command has overruled normal procedure,
She would have been buried in unblessed ground
Until Judgment Day. Instead of charitable prayers,
Flint and pebbles would be thrown on her.
Yet, here she is permitted to have her virgin wreath,
Her maiden flowers, and the church bell is sounded
To place her at rest.
- Laer: Must there be no more done than that?
- Clerg: No more can be done.
- We would profane the service for the dead,
If we sang a requiem mass and suchlike to her,
As we do for souls who depart the earth peacefully.
- Laer: Lay her in the earth,
- And from her fair and unpolluted flesh,
May violets grow and flourish. I tell you, miserly priest,
My sister will be a ministering angel
When you lie howling in Hell.
- Hamlet: What!? The fair Ophelia?
- Gertrude: Sweets to the sweet, farewell.
- I had hoped you would have been my Hamlet's wife.
I thought I would have decorated your bridal bed with flowers, sweet maiden,
And not be scattering them on your grave.
- Laer: Oh, may three times as much sorrow,
- Fall twenty times over, on the cursed head of he
Whose wicked deed took away your rationality
And drove you mad. Don't fill in the grave for a while,
Until I have held her once more in my arms.
(Laertes jumps down into the grave)
(Laertes continues):- Now pile the dirt on both the living and the dead,
Until you've turned this flat land into a mountain
Higher than old Mount Pelion, or the lofty peak
Of blue Olympus.
- Hamlet: What is he, whose grief
- Has such an emphasis on himself, whose phrases of sorrow
Summon the wandering stars, and make them stand
Like hurt, bewildered listeners? This is I,
Hamlet, the Dane!
(Hamlet jumps down into the grave with Laertes)
Laertes: The Devil take your soul!- Hamlet: You don't pray well. Please, remove your fingers
- from my throat.
Because, although I am not hot tempered and rash,
Yet, I do have within me something dangerous,
That your wisdom should fear. Take your hands away.
- Claudius: Pull them apart!
- Gertrude: Hamlet, Hamlet!
- (Everyone else): Gentlemen!
- Horatio: Good my Lord, be quiet!
- Hamlet: Why, I will fight with him, upon this theme,
- Until my eyelids will no longer move.
- Gert: Oh, my son, what theme?
- Hamlet: I loved Ophelia, and even a huge number of brothers
- Could not, by adding together all their amount of love,
Equal my love for her.
(to Laertes):
What will you do for her?
- Clau: Oh, he is mad, Laertes.
- Gert: For the love of God, leave him alone!
- Hamlet: By God, show me what you'd do!
- Will you weep, will you fight, go without food, injure yourself?
Will you drink vinegar, and eat a crocodile?
I'll do it! Did you come here to whine for yourself?
Do you think you can outdo me by leaping in her grave, to
Be buried alive with her, well, so will I!
And if you babble about mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, until the ground we stand on rises high enough to
Singe its top against the fire above the earth's atmosphere,
And make Mount Ossa look as small as a wart. No, and if you're going
to open your foolish mouth like that, I'll rant just as much as you do!
- Gert: This is only a temporary outburst,
- And for a while he'll have a fit,
But soon, if we wait patiently, like a dove
Who hides her chicks beneath her wings,
He'll droop into silence.
- Hamlet: Hear me, sir.
- Why do you treat me like this?
I always liked you. But it doesn't matter.
Let Hercules, himself, do whatever he pleases, but be that as it may,
Even a lowly cat will meow, and a dog will have his day.
(Hamlet exits;- Horatio exits)
Claudius: Please, good Horatio, attend upon Hamlet.- (to Laertes):
Be more patient, by recalling what we talked about last night.
We'll press ahead with that right away.
(Gertrude exits)
(Claudius continues):
Good Gertrude, keep watch over your son.
This grave will have an enduring memorial.
We'll thereby have a time of quiet.
Until then, we'll proceed with patience.
(all exit)
End of Scene 19
|
(Regained)