Hamlet: Act 5 Scene 1

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A churchyard.

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & c


First Clown

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

Poe sayi meiua nìmuiä tsatu ftxey nìeromum terkup srak?


Second Clown

I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave

Oel ngati peng srane ulte fpi tsalun kllkulat poyä tìkeruseyä tìkllkulat.

straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.

Nìnyu fyape kerusey nolìmìn ulte poan si san ayoe meiua nìmuiä.


First Clown

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

Fyape tsun tsa'u lu nìngay txo poeru ke tspang poeti tengkrr herawnu poeti?


Second Clown

Why, 'tis found so.

Tsnì lu fya tsole'a.


First Clown

It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For

Fì'u zene lu "se offendo", fì'u lu law.

here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,

Fì'u tsranten, txo oel tspìvang oeti nìeromum

it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it

fìkem si ral nìsiti ulte nìsiru lu pxevul

is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned herself wittingly.

si, si, si, ulte ha poeti tspang poel nìeromum.


Second Clown

Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,--

Kehe, slä tìng mikyun ma sìltsana tutel oeru.


First Clown

Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here

Oeti ngal tung, fìtsenget tok payl, sìltsan,

stands the man; good; if the man go to this water,

txo tuteri kä fìpayru sì tuteti tspang,

and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he

tengfya ke eltu si, tse'a ngal tute kä,

goes,--mark you that; but if the water come to him

slä txo payri tuteru kä slä tspang tuteti,

and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he

tutel tuteti ke tspang: ha tsari rolìmä'ä

that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.

, tuteyä tìrey ke si hì'i.


Second Clown

But is this law?

Fì'u ngay lu srak?


First Clown

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

Srane, fì'u lu ngay nìnyuyä fyape kerusey.


Second Clown

Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been

Ngal new omum ngayti srak? Txo fìpo ke lolu

a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' Christian burial.

tuté alemeuia, poeti ayoengìl ke sivi meuia nìmuiä.


First Clown

Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that

Ngal plltxe fìkem,

great folk should have countenance in this world to

sìnawmri ayoengal tängung foti tspang,

drown or hang themselves, more than their even

slä ayoengl meuia sängi nìmuiä.

Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient

Oeyä kllkulatyu! Aungaiyä ayzamungyu anawm

gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they hold up Adam's profession.

ke tok tsatu ke lu wll aysiyu sì ayhllkulatyu tengfya foru lu 'awvea tuteyä lun.


Second Clown

Was he a gentleman?

Po nawm lolu srak?


First Clown

He was the first that ever bore arms.

Srane. 'Awvea po lu zamunge.


Second Clown

Why, he had none.

Slä poru ke'u zamunge lu.


First Clown

What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the

Ngal ke'uti omum srak? Fyape ngal swoka aylì'u tslam?


Scripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'

Aylì'u plltxe san "'awvea tute karmllkulat" sìk

could he dig without arms? I'll put another

po tsivun kllkulat txo poru lu ke'u zamunge srak? Oel ngaru tìpawmti pìyawm

question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself--

txo ngal oeti pìylltxe kefaral tsakrr mivllte ngal skxawng lu--


Second Clown

Go to.

Pawm.


First Clown

What is he that builds stronger than either the

tupe po lu a nì'ul nìtxur si

mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

to tskeyä siyu sì payranä siyu fu sangekä siyu?


Second Clown

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

fìpo tspangyuyä siyu lu. Tsa'u rayey nì'ul krr to txan sute.


First Clown

I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows

oeru ngayä ronsemil prrte lu.

does well; but how does it well? it does well to

Tspangyu nìltsan seri, slä fyape tspanyu seri nìltsan? Tspangyu seri nìltsan foru

those that do in: now thou dost ill to say the

a mì spangyu si. Nga nìkawng plltxe san

gallows is built stronger than the church: argal,

tspangyu nì'ul nìtxur sami to swotu sìk, ha,

the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.

tspangyu sivi nìltsan. Oel pawm nìmun.


Second Clown

'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?'

tupe po lu a nì'ul nìtxur si to tskeyä siyu sì payranä siyu fu sangekä siyu srak?

First Clown

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

srane, oer ulte ke lu yusamìm.


Second Clown

Marry, now I can tell.

Eywafpi, oe ke tsun set pivlltxe.


First Clown

To't.

oeru.


Second Clown

Mass, I cannot tell.

oe ke tsun.


Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance



First Clown

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull

ke tsam si eltuhu nì'ul krr, ha

ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when

snumìna pa'li ke nìwin kä txo musamun'i ulte, krr a

you are asked this question next, say 'a

fìsìpawmti ngaru oel pawm, plltxe san

grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till

siyu tìkllkulatyä tìkeruseyyä sìk,

doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a stoup of liquor.

poyä helku tayok frakrr. Kä ne Yaughan oeru [stoup of liquor]ti munge.


Exit Second Clown



He digs and sings



In youth, when I did love, did love,

Akrr oe 'eveng lu, akrr oel [loved], [loved],

Methought it was very sweet,

Oe fpamìl sìltsan

To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,

oeyä muntxa, O, livu tìmuntxaru

O, methought, there was nothing meet.

O, oe fpamìl ke tivok wong.


HAMLET

Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at grave-making?

fìporu ketxe'lan lu srak? Pori rol ha zene.


HORATIO

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

poan slamu txankrrhu fpom sìkeruseyhu.


HAMLET

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

fì'u ngay lu, po a ke si nìtxan muiä nì'ul lu.

First Clown

[Sings]

[rol]

But age, with his stealing steps,

slä yola krr hu poyä fnua [footsteps]

Hath claw'd me in his clutch,

pori oeti za'amärip poru

And hath shipped me intil the land,

ulte oeti munge oeyä kllpxìltuftu

As if I had never been such.

fte po lu na oe tamok kawkrr.

Throws up a skull



HAMLET

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:

lamu tsa [skull]ru ftxì ulte po tsun rivol.

how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were


Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It


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, good lord?' This might


be my lord such-a-one, that praised my lord


such-a-one's horse, when he meant 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 mazzard 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 loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.



First Clown

[Sings]


A pick-axe, 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 hardly lie in


this box; and must the 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?



First 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.



First Clown

You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not


yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and 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.



First Clown

'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to you.



HAMLET

What man dost thou dig it for?



First Clown

For no man, sir.



HAMLET

What woman, then?



First Clown

For none, neither.



HAMLET

Who is to be buried in't?



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, these three years I have taken a note of


it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the


peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he


gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou 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.



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.



HAMLET

Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?



First 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?



First Clown

'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men


are as mad as he.



HAMLET

How came he mad?



First Clown

Very strangely, they say.



HAMLET

How strangely?



First Clown

Faith, e'en with losing his wits.



HAMLET

Upon what ground?



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?



First 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?



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 whoreson dead body.


Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth


three and twenty years.



HAMLET

Whose was it?



First Clown

A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?



HAMLET

Nay, 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.



HAMLET

This?



First 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


borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how


abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims 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' the 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 he 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 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,


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 flaw!


But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.



Enter Priest, & c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, & c



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 awhile, and mark.



Retiring with HORATIO



LAERTES

What ceremony else?



HAMLET

That is Laertes,


A very noble youth: mark.



LAERTES

What ceremony else?



First Priest

Her obsequies have been as far enlarged


As we have warrantise: 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 allow'd her virgin crants,


Her maiden strewments and the bringing home


Of bell and burial.



LAERTES

Must there no more be done?



First Priest

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.



LAERTES

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!



QUEEN GERTRUDE

Sweets to the sweet: farewell!



Scattering flowers



I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;


I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,


And not have strew'd thy grave.



LAERTES

O, treble woe


Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,


Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense


Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,


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,


To 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 wandering 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 him



HAMLET

Thou pray'st not well.


I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;


For, though I am not splenitive and rash,


Yet have I something in me dangerous,


Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.



KING CLAUDIUS

Pluck them asunder.



QUEEN GERTRUDE

Hamlet, Hamlet!


All

Gentlemen,--



HORATIO

Good my lord, be quiet.



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 GERTRUDE

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 CLAUDIUS

O, he is mad, Laertes.



QUEEN GERTRUDE

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 GERTRUDE

This is mere madness:


And thus awhile 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 CLAUDIUS

I pray you, 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

Hamlet
Act 1 Scene 1Scene 2Scene 3Scene 4Scene 5 Hämlet.png
Act 2 Scene 1Scene 2
Act 3 Scene 1Scene 2Scene 3Scene 4
Act 4 Scene 1Scene 2Scene 3Scene 4Scene 5Scene 6Scene 7
Act 5 Scene 1Scene 2
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