Part 7 (2/2)

Me thinkes he should indite that fellow Of an action of Batterie, for knocking Him about the pate with's shouel: now where is your Quirkes and quillets now, your vouchers and Double vouchers, your leases and free-holde, And tenements? why that same boxe there will scarce Holde the conueiance of his land, and must The honor lie there? O pittifull transformance!

I prethee tell me _Horatio_, Is parchment made of sheep-skinnes?

_Hor._ I my Lorde, and of calues-skinnes too.

_Ham._ Ifaith they prooue themselues sheepe and calues That deale with them, or put their trust in them.

There's another, why may not that be such a ones Scull, that praised my Lord such a ones horse, When he meant to beg him? _Horatio_, I prethee Lets question yonder fellow.

Now my friend, whose graue is this?

_Clowne_ Mine sir.

_Ham._ But who must lie in it? (sir.

_Clowne_ If I should say, I should, I should lie in my throat _Ham._ What man must be buried here?

_Clowne_ No man sir.

_Ham._ What woman?

_Clowne_. No woman neither sir, but indeede One that was a woman.

_Ham._ An excellent fellow by the Lord _Horatio_, This seauen yeares haue I noted it: the toe of the pesant, Comes so neere the heele of the courtier, That hee gawles his kibe, I prethee tell mee one thing, How long will a man lie in the ground before hee rots?

_Clowne_ I faith sir, if hee be not rotten before He be laide in, as we haue many pocky corses, He will last you, eight yeares, a tanner Will last you eight yeares full out, or nine.

_Ham._ And why a tanner? [I1]

_Clowne_ Why his hide is so tanned with his trade, That it will holde out water, that's a parlous Deuourer of your dead body, a great soaker.

Looke you, heres a scull hath bin here this dozen yeare, Let me see, I euer since our last king _Hamlet_ Slew _Fortenbra.s.se_ in combat, yong _Hamlets_ father, Hee that's mad.

_Ham._ I mary, how came he madde?

_Clowne_ Ifaith very strangely, by loosing of his wittes.

_Ham._ Vpon what ground?

_Clowne_ A this ground, in _Denmarke_.

_Ham._ Where is he now?

_Clowne_ Why now they sent him to _England_.

_Ham._ To _England_! wherefore?

_Clowne_ Why they say he shall haue his wittes there, Or if he haue not, t'is no great matter there, It will not be seene there.

_Ham._ Why not there?

_Clowne_ Why there they say the men are as mad as he.

_Ham._ Whose scull was this?

_Clowne_ This, a plague on him, a madde rogues it was, He powred once a whole flagon of Rhenish of my head, Why do not you know him? this was one _Yorickes_ scull.

_Ham._ Was this? I prethee let me see it, alas poore _Yoricke_ I knew him _Horatio_, A fellow of infinite mirth, he hath caried mee twenty times vpon his backe, here hung those lippes that I haue Kissed a hundred times, and to see, now they abhorre me: Wheres your iefts now _Yoricke_? your flashes of meriment: now go to my Ladies chamber, and bid her paint her selfe an inch thicke, to this she must come _Yoricke_. _Horatio_, I prethee tell me one thing, doost thou thinke that _Alexander_ looked thus?

_Hor._ Euen so my Lord.

_Ham._ And smelt thus?

_Hor._ I my lord, no otherwise. [I1v]

_Ham._ No, why might not imagination worke, as thus of _Alexander_, _Alexander_ died, _Alexander_ was buried, _Alexander_ became earth, of earth we make clay, and _Alexander_ being but clay, why might not time bring to pa.s.se, that he might stoppe the boung hole of a beere barrell?

Imperious Caesar dead and turnd to clay, Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the winde away.

_Enter King and Queene, Leartes, and other lordes, with a Priest after the coffin._ _Ham._ What funerall's this that all the Court laments?

It shews to be some n.o.ble parentage: Stand by a while.

_Lear._ What ceremony else? say, what ceremony else?

_Priest_ My Lord, we haue done all that lies in vs, And more than well the church can tolerate, She hath had a Dirge sung for her maiden soule: And but for fauour of the king, and you, She had beene buried in the open fieldes, Where now she is allowed christian buriall.

_Lear._ So, I tell thee churlish Priest, a ministring Angell shall my sister be, when thou liest howling.

_Ham._ The faire _Ofelia_ dead!

_Queene_ Sweetes to the sweete, farewell: I had thought to adorne thy bridale bed, faire maide, And not to follow thee vnto thy graue.

_Lear._ Forbeare the earth a while: sister farewell: L_eartes leapes into the graue._ Now powre your earth on, _Olympus_ hie, And make a hill to o're top olde _Pellon_: _Hamlet leapes_ Whats he that coniures so? _in after _L_eartes_ _Ham._ Beholde tis I, _Hamlet_ the Dane.

_Lear._ The diuell take thy soule.

_Ham._ O thou praiest not well, I prethee take thy hand from off my throate, For there is something in me dangerous, Which let thy wisedome feare, holde off thy hand: [I2]

I lou'de _Ofelia_ as deere as twenty brothers could: Shew me what thou wilt doe for her: Wilt fight, wilt fast, wilt pray, Wilt drinke vp vessels, eate a crocadile? Ile doot: Com'st thou here to whine?

And where thou talk'st of burying thee a liue, Here let vs stand: and let them throw on vs, Whole hills of earth, till with the heighth therof, Make Oosell as a Wart.

_King_. Forbeare _Leartes_, now is hee mad, as is the sea, Anone as milde and gentle as a Doue: Therfore a while giue his wilde humour scope.

_Ham._ What is the reason sir that you wrong mee thus?

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