149 1 Clown. Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits there; or, if he do not, it 's no great matter there. Hamlet. Why? I Clown. 'T will not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he. Hamlet. How came he mad? 1 Clown. Very strangely, they say. Hamlet. How strangely? 1 Clown. Faith, e'en with losing his wits. Hamlet. Upon what ground? 150 I 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? I Clown. I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die-as we have many pocky corses now-a-days, 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 than another? 160 I 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 whoreson dead body. Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth three and twenty years. Hamlet. Whose was it? I Clown. A whoreson mad fellow's it was; whose do you think it was? Hamlet. Nay, I know not. 1 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. Hamlet. This ? I Clown. E'en that. 171 Hamlet. Let me see.--[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 150 it is! my gorge rises at it. Here 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 her, let her paint an inch thick, to appearance this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.—Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Horatio. What 's that, my lord? 185 Hamlet. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion 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 bung-hole? Horatio. 'T were to consider too curiously, to consider so. Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn'd to clay, O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Eut soft! but soft! aside! here comes the king, 201 Enter Priests, etc., in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, The queen, the courtiers; who is that they follow? imperfect, they would not pay all the rites The corse they follow did with desperate hand 210 Couch we awhile, and mark. hide [Retiring with Horatio. Hamlet. That is Laertes, a very noble youth; mark. I Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd atsherds Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her: warrant. 220 Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home gs that were strewn Of bell and burial. These were ritio allowed that re Laertes. Must there no more be done? Laertes. No on the marrige souls dying in peace Lay her i' 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 ! 230 Queen. Sweets to the sweet; farewell! [Scattering flowers keen intellect Laertes. [Leaps into the grave. Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, 210 stay inspiring Hamlet. [Advancing] What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow planets? Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand wonderatung Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane! [Leaps into the grave. Laertes. The devil take thy soul! [Grappling with him. Hamlet. Thou pray'st not well. I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat; For, though I am not splenitive and rash, passionate Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand! King. Pluck them asunder. Queen. All Gentlemen, Horatio. Hamlet, Hamlet! Good my lord, be quiet. 250 [The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave. Hamlet. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme Until my eyelids will no longer wag. Queen. O my son, what theme? move. Hamlet. I lov'd Ophelia; forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.-What wilt thou do for her? 265 King. O, he is mad, Laertes. Queen. For love of God, forbear him. Hamlet. 'Swounds, show me what thou 'lt do : wilt thow Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself? Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile? I'll do 't. Dost thou come here to whine? drink vinegar (portably And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw I'll rant as well as thou. Queen. Nay, an thou 'lt mouth, brag, This is mere madness: And thus awhile the fit will work on him; When that her golden couplets are disclos'd, Hamlet. Hear you, sir r; What is the reason that you use me thus? I lov'd you ever.-But it is no matter; The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. 270 rant 280 [Exit. [Exit Horatio. [To Laertes] Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech; We 'll put the matter to the present push. instant test. This grave shall have a living monument: lasting with a play SCENE II. A Hall in the Castle. Enter HAMLET and HORATIO. drawler shall serve [Exeunt Hamlet. So much for this, sir; now let me see the other: You do remember all the circumstance? Horatio. Remember it, my lord! Hamlet. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting, a test fetters, with |