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Ham. And smelt so? puh! [Throws down the scull. Hor. E'en so, my lord.

Ham. 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 ?

Hor. 'T were to consider too curiously, to consider so.

Ham. 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 ?

Imperial Cæsar, 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's flaw ! But soft! but soft! aside :-Here comes the king. Enter Priests, &c. in procession ; the corpse of OPHE

LIA, LAERTES and Mourners following ; King,

QUEEN, their Trains, &c.
The queen, the courtiers : Who is that they follow ?
And with such maimed rites! This doth betoken,
The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Fordo its own life. 'T was of some estate :
Couch we a while, and mark. [Retiring with Hor.

Laer. What ceremony else?
Ham.

This is Laertes,
A very noble youth : Mark.

Laer. What ceremony else?

1 Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg’d As we have warranties: Her death was doubtful ; And, but that great command o'ersways the order, a She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd Till the last trumpet; for charitable prayers, & Order-rule, canon, of ecclesiastical authority. b For charitable prayers-instead of charitable prayers.

Sbards, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her,
Yet here she is allowed her virgin rites,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.

Laer. Must there no more be done?
1 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.
Laer.

Lay her i' the 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.
Ham.

What, the fair Ophelia !
Queen. Sweets to the sweet : Farewell !

[Scattering flowers.
I hop'd thou shouldst bave been my Hamlet's wife;
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not t' bave strew'd thy grave.
Laer.

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 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,
To o'er-top old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blue Olympus.

Ham. [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. a Shards-a shard is a thing shared-divided. Shards are, therefore, fragmeuts of ware-rubbish.

Laer.

The devil take thy soul!

[Grappling with him.
Ham. Thou pray'st not well.
I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
Sir, though I am not splenetive and rash,
Yet have I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wiseness fear : Away thy hand.

King. Pluck them asunder.
Queen.

Hamlet, Hamlet !
Gentlemen.

Good my lord, be quiet. [The Attendants part them, and they come

out of the grave. Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme, Until my eyelids will no longer wag.

Queen. Ó my son! what theme?

Ham. 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 ?

King. O, he is mad, Laertes.
Queen. For love of God, forbear him.

Ham. Come, show me what thou 'lt do:
Woul't weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear

thyself?
Woul't drink up Esil ? eat a crocodile ?
I'll do 't.--Dost thou come here to whine ?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick a 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 inouth,
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 disclos'd,

a Quick-alive.

His silence will sit drooping.
Нат.

Hear you, sir ;
What is the reason that you use me thus ?
I lov'd 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 you, good Horatio, wait upon him.-

[Exit Horatio. Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;

[TO LAERTES. 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.

SCENE II.-A Hall in the Castle.

Enter Hamlet and Horario. Ham, So much for this, sir: now let me see the

other; You do remember all the circumstance?

Hor. Remember it, my lord ?

Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
That would not let me sleep: methought, I lay
Worse than the mutines a in the bilboes.b Rashly,
And praise be rashness for it,-Let us know,
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our dear plots do pall; and that should teach us,
There 's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
Hor.

That is most certain.
Ham. Up from my cabin,
My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
Grop'd I to find out them : had my desire;

a Mutines--mutineers. b Bilboes--a bar of iron with fetters attached to it.

Finger'd their packet; and, in fine, withdrew,
To mine own room again : making so bold,
My fears forgetting manners, to unseal
Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,
O royal knavery, an exact command,
Larded with many several sorts of reason,
Importing Denmark's health, and England's too,
With, ho ! such bugs and goblins in my life,
That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,
No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,
My head should be struck off.
Hor.

Is 't possible ?
Ham. Here is the commission; read it at more lei

sure. But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed ?

Hor. Ay, beseech you.

Ham. Being thus benetted round with villains,
Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,
They had begun the play : I sat me down;
Devis'd a new commission ; wrote it fair :
I once did hold it, as our statists do,
A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much
How to forget that learning ; but, sir, now
It did me yeoman's service : Wilt thou know
The effects of what I wrote ?
Hor.

Ay, good my lord.
Ham. An earnest conjuration from the king,
As England was his faithful tributary;
As love between them as the palm should flourish;
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear,
And stand a comma 'tween their amities ;
And many such like as's of great charge, -
That on the view and know of these contents,
Without debatement further, more, or less,
He should the bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving-time a allow'd

A Shriving-time-time of shrift, or confession.

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