The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/34/05_01

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 14KB | 424 lines

A Churchyard.
 Enter TWO CLOWNS with spades and mattocks.

1st Clown    Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks
    her own salvation?

2nd Clown    I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight. The
    crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.

1st Clown    How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own
    defence?

2nd Clown    Why, 'tis found so.

1st Clown    It must be se offendendo, it cannot be else. For here lies
    the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act,
    and an act hath three branches - it is to act, to do, and
    to perform. Argal, she drowned herself wittingly.

2nd Clown    Nay, but hear you, Goodman Delver.

1st Clown    Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the
    man; good. If the man go to this water and drown himself,
    it is, will he nill he, he goes - mark you that; but if the
    water come to him and drown him, he drowns not himself.
    Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not
    his own life.

2nd Clown    But is this law?

1st Clown    Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.

2nd Clown    Will you ha' the truth an't? If this had not been a
    gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' Christian
    burial.

1st Clown    Why, there thou sayst, and the more pity that great folk
    should have count'nance in this world to drown or hang
    themselves more than their even Christian. Come, my spade.
    There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and
    gravemakers: they hold up Adam's profession.

2nd Clown    Was he a gentleman?

1st Clown    A' was the first that ever bore arms.

2nd Clown    Why, he had none.

1st Clown    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-

2nd Clown    Go to.

1st Clown    What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the
    shipwright, or the carpenter?

2nd Clown    The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand
    tenants.

1st Clown    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; argal, the gallows may do well to thee.
    To't again, come.

2nd Clown    Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
    carpenter?

1st Clown    Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

2nd Clown    Marry, now I can tell.

1st Clown    To't.

2nd Clown    Mass, I cannot tell.

                    Enter HAMLET and HORATIO afar off.

1st Clown    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 that he makes
    lasts till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a
    stoup of liquor.
                                                [Exit 2nd CLOWN.

1st Clown    [Digging, and singing.]

            In youth, when I did love, did love,
                      Methought it was very sweet
            To contract-O the time for-a my behove,
                O methought there-a was nothing-a meet.

Hamlet    Has this fellow no feeling of his business that a' sings at
    grave-making.

Horatio    Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Hamlet    'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath the
    daintier sense.

1st Clown    [Sings.]    But age with his stealing steps
                      Hath clawed me in his clutch,
                  And hath shipped me intil the land,
                      As if I had never been such.
                                                [Throws up a skull.

Hamlet    That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the
    knave jowls it to th' ground, as if it were Cain's jawbone,
    that did the first murder. This might be the pate of a
    politician which this ass now o'eroffices; 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, good lord?' This might be my Lord Such-a-one
    that praised my Lord Such-a-one's horse when a' went to beg
    it, might it not?

Horatio    Ay, my lord.

Hamlet    Why, e'en so; and now my Lady Worm's, chapless, and knocked
    about the mazard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine
    revolution, an we had the trick to see't. Did these bones
    cost no more the breeding but to play at loggets with 'em?
    Mine ache to think on't.

1st Clown    [Sings.]    A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,
                For and a shrouding-sheet,
            O, a pit of clay for to be made
                For such a guest is meet.
                                                [Throws up another skull.

Hamlet    There's another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?
    Where be his quiddities now, his quillets, his cases, his
    tenures, and his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave
    now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and
    will not tell him of his action of battery? Hum! This
    fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his
    statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double
    vouchers, his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines and
    the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full
    of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch him no more of his
    purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth
    of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands
    will scarcely lie in this box; and must th' inheritor
    himself have no more, ha?

Horatio    Not a jot more, my lord.

Hamlet    Is not parchment made of sheepskins?

Horatio    Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

Hamlet    They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that.
    I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah?

1st Clown    Mine, sir.
    [Sings.]    O, a pit of clay for to be made
                For such a guest is meet.

Hamlet    I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in't.

1st Clown    You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours. For my
    part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.

Hamlet    Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine. 'Tis
    for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.

1st Clown    'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again from me to you.

Hamlet    What man dost thou dig it for?

1st Clown    For no man, sir.

Hamlet    What woman, then?

1st Clown    For none neither.

Hamlet    Who is to be buried in't?

1st 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, these
    three years I have taken 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 kibe. How long hast thou been
    a gravemaker?

1st Clown    Of all the days i'th' year I came to't that day that our
    last King Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras.

Hamlet    How long is that since?

1st Clown    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    Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?

1st Clown    Why, because he was mad. A' shall recover his wits there;
    or, if a' do not, 'tis no great matter there.

Hamlet    Why?

1st Clown    'Twill not be seen in him there. There the men are as mad
    as he.

Hamlet    How came he mad?

1st Clown    Very strangely, they say.

Hamlet    How 'strangely'?

1st Clown    Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

Hamlet    Upon what ground?

1st Clown    Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy,
    thirty years.

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

1st Clown    Faith, if a' be not rotten before a' die - as we have many
    pocky corpses nowadays that will scarce hold the laying in
    - a' will last you some eight year or nine year. A tanner
    will last you nine year.

Hamlet    Why he more than another?

1st 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
    decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull now hath
    lain you i'th' earth three-and-twenty years.

Hamlet    Whose was it?

1st Clown    A whoreson mad fellow's it was. Whose do you think it was?

Hamlet    Nay, I know not.

1st 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?

1st Clown    E'en that.

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 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 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
    chap-fallen. Now get you to my lady's chamber and tell her,
    let her paint an inch thick, to this favour 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 o' this fashion i'th'
    earth?

Horatio    E'en so.

Hamlet    And smelt so? Pah!
                                                [Puts down the skull.
Horatio    E'en so, my lord.

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

Horatio    '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, as thus:
    Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth
    to 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 turned to clay,
        Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
        O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
        Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!

              Enter a PRIEST, the KING, the QUEEN, LAERTES,
                   and a coffin, with LORDS attending.

    But soft, but soft awhile! Here comes the king,
    The queen, the courtiers. Who is that they follow?
    And with such maimd rites? This doth betoken
    The corpse they follow did with desp'rate hand
    Fordo it own life. 'Twas of some estate.
    Couch we awhile, and mark.
                                 [HAMLET and HORATIO stand aside.
Laertes    What ceremony else?

Hamlet    That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark.

Laertes    What ceremony else?

Priest    Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
    As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful,
    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 allowed her virgin crants,
    Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
    Of bell and burial.

Laertes    Must there no more be done?

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

Laertes                                    Lay her i'th' earth,
    And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
    May violets spring. I tell thee, churlish priest,
    A minist'ring angel shall my sister be
    When thou liest howling.

Hamlet                [Aside.]        What, the fair Ophelia!

Queen    [Scattering flowers.] 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.

Laertes                                        O, treble woe
    Fall ten times treble on that cursd 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.
                                                [Leaps into the grave.
    Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
    Till of this flat a mountain you have made
    T' o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head
    Of blue Olympus.

Hamlet    [Advancing.]            What is he whose grief
    Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
    Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand
    Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
    Hamlet the Dane.
                                                [Leaps into the grave.

Laertes                    The devil take thy soul!
                                                [Grappling with HAMLET.
Hamlet    Thou pray'st not well.
    I prithee take thy fingers from my throat,
    For though I am not splenative and rash,
    Yet have I in me something dangerous,
    Which let thy wiseness fear. Hold off thy hand.

King    Pluck them asunder.

Queen    Hamlet, Hamlet!

Lords    Gentlemen!

Horatio    Good my lord, be quiet.
                                                [The LORDS 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?

Hamlet    I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers
    Could not, with all their quantity of love,
    Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?

King    O, he is mad, Laertes

Queen    For love of God, forbear him.

Hamlet    'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do.
    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?
    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, an thou'lt mouth,
    I'll rant as well as thou.

Queen                                        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 couplets 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.
                                                [Exit.
King    I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
                                                [Exit HORATIO.
    [To LAERTES.]
    Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech.
    We'll put the matter to the present push.
    Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.
    This grave shall have a living monument.
    An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
    Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
                                                [Exeunt.