Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell I should be greeted, if not from lord Hamlet.

itself,

She turns to favor and to prettiness!

OPHELIA sings.

And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
Gone to his death-bed,
He never will come again.

His beard was white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll;

He is gone, he is gone,
And we cast away moan:
God 'a mercy on his soul!

And of all christian souls! I pray God. God be
wi' you!
[Exit OPHELIA.

Laer. Do you see this, O God?

Enter Sailors.

1st Sail. God bless you, sir.
Hor. Let Him bless thee too.

1st Sail. He shall, sir, an 't please Him. There's a letter for you, sir; it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

HORATIO reads.

"Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase: finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor; and in the grapple I boarded them; on the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy; but

King. Laertes, I must commune with your they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for

grief,

SCENE VI. Another Room in the same.

Enter HORATIO and a Servant.

am.

them. Let the king have the letters I have sent; and
repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst
fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make
thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of
the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for
England; of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.
"He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet."
Come, I will give you way for these your letters;
And do 't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Another Room in the same.

Enter KING and LAERTES.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance
seal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he which hath your noble father slain,
Pursued my life.

Laer.

It well appears. But tell me

Why you proceeded not against these feats,

So crimeful and so capital in nature,

As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else,

Hor. What are they that would speak with me? You mainly were stirred up.

But yet to me they are strong. The queen, his What should this mean? Are all the rest come

You have been talked of since your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
Wherein they say you shine: your sum of parts
Did not together pluck such envy from him,
As did that one; and that, in my regard,
Of the unworthiest siege.

ulcer:

And they can well on horseback: but this gallant That hurts by easing. But to the quick o' the
Had witchcraft in 't: he grew unto his seat;
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorpsed and demi-natured

Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,

To shew yourself indeed your father's son

With the brave beast: so far he topped my More than in words?

Laer. I know him well: he is the brooch, in- Hamlet, returned, shall know you are come home:

King. He made confession of you; And gave you such a masterly report For art and exercise in your defence, And for your rapier most especially,

That he cried out, 't would be a sight indeed

If one could match you: the scrimers of their
nation,

He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his
Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy,
That he could nothing do but wish and beg
Your sudden coming o'er, to play with you.
Now, out of this,-

But that I know love is begun by time;
And that I see, in passages of proof,
Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of wick, or snuff, that will abate it;
And nothing is at a like goodness still;
For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,
Dies in his own too-much that we would do,
We should do when we would; for this "would"
changes,

And hath abatements and delays as many

As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;

We'll put on those shall praise your excellence,

And set a double varnish on the fame

The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, to

gether,

And wager on your heads: he, being remiss,
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
A sword unbated, and, in a pass of practice,
Requite him for your father.

I will do 't:

Laer.
And, for the purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal, that, but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death,
That is but scratched withal: I'll touch my point
With this contagion; that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

King.
Let's further think of this;
Weigh what convenience, both of time and means,
May fit us to our shape.
If this should fail,
And that our drift look through our bad perform-

ance,

'T were better not assayed; therefore, this project
Should have a back, or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof. Soft; let me see:
We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings, -
I ha't:

When in your motion you are hot and dry
(As make your bouts more violent to that end),
And that he calls for drink, I'll have preferred
him

And then this "should" is like a spendthrift sigh, A chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,

Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow:- Your sister's drowned, Laertes.

Laer. Drowned! O, where?

Queen. There is a willow grows ascaunt the brook,

And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element: but long it could not be,
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Laer.

Alas, then, she is drowned?
Queen. Drowned, drowned.

Laer. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophe-
lia,

That shews his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There, with fantastic garlands did she come,
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do "dead-men's fingers" call The woman will be out.

And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet

them :

There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies, and herself,
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread
wide;

It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will: when these are
Adieu, my lord:

gone,

SCENE IA Churchyard.

ACT V.

Enter Two Clowns, with spades, &c. 1st Clo. Is she to be buried in christian burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

2nd Clo. I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight the crowner hath set on her, and finds it christian burial.

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 Clo. But is this law?

1st Clo. Ay, marry is 't; crowner's quest law. 2nd Clo. Will you ha' the truth on 't? If this

1st Clo. How can that be, unless she drowned had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been herself in her own defence?

2nd Clo. Why, 't is found so.

1st Clo. 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 Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver. 1st Clo. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here stands the man; good: if the man go

buried out of christian burial.

1st Clo. Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity, that great folks shall have countenance 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 grave-makers; they hold up Adam's profession.

2nd Clo. Was he a gentleman?

1st Clo. He was the first that ever bore arms.

2nd Clo. Why, he had none.

1st Clo. 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 Clo. Go to.

1st Clo. What, is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? 2nd Clo. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.

:

1st Clo. 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 stranger than the church: argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again; come. 2nd Clo. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?

1st Clo. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke. 2nd Clo. Marry, now I can tell.

Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knave jowls it to the 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'erreaches; one that would circumvent God; might it not?

Hor. It might, my lord.

Ham. Or of a courtier; which could say, "Goodmorrow, 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?

Hor. Ay, my lord.

Ham. 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 them? mine ache to think on 't.

1st 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 a skull.

Ham. There's another: why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits 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? Humph! 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

Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his busi- recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? ness? he sings at grave-making.

will his vouchers vouch him no more of his pur

Hor. Custom hath made it in him a property chases, and double ones too, than the length and of easiness. breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conHam. 'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employ- veyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box; ment hath the daintier sense.

1st Clown 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.

and must the inheritor himself have no more? ha?

Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.

Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?
Hor. Ay, my lord, and calves'-skins too.

Ham. They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.

[Throws up a skull. Whose grave's this, sirrah?