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

First Clo. Mine, sir.

[Sings] O, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.

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

First Clo. You lie out on 't, sir, and therefore

'tis not yours: for my part, I do not lie in 't, 140 and yet it is mine.

Ham. 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 Clo. 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away
again, from me to you.

Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?

First Clo. For no man, sir.

Ham. What woman then?

First Clo. For none neither.

150

Ham. Who is to be buried in 't?

First Clo. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.

Ham. How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, this 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 grave- 160 maker?

136, omitted in Qq.-I. G.

First Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last King Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras.

Ham. How long is that since?

First Clo. 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.

Ham. Aye, marry, why was he sent into Eng- 170 land?

First Clo. Why, because a' was mad; a' shall recover his wits there: or, if a' do not, 'tis no great matter there.

Ham. Why?

First Clo. "Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he.

Ham. How came he mad?

First Clo. Very strangely, they say.

Ham. How 'strangely'?

First Clo. Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
Ham. Upon what ground?

First Clo. Why, here in Denmark: I have been
sexton here, man and boy, thirty years.

Ham. How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?

180

167. "the very day that young Hamlet was born"; by this scene it appears that Hamlet was then thirty years old, and knew Yorick well, who had been dead twenty-three years. And yet in the beginning of the play he is spoken of as one that designed to go back to the university of Wittenburgh.-H. N. H.

170. "there the men are as mad as he." The "madness" of Englishmen was a proverbial jest, like the gluttony of the Dutch and the family pride of the Welsh.-C. H. H.

First Clo. I' faith, if a' be not rotten before a' die-as we have many pocky corses now-adays, that will scarce hold the laying in-a' will last you some eight year or nine year: 190 a tanner will last you nine year.

Ham. Why he more than another?

First Clo. 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: this skull has lain in the earth three and twenty years.

Ham. Whose was it?

First Clo. A whoreson mad fellow's it was: 200 whose do you think it was?

Ham. Nay, I know not.

First Clo. 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.

Ham. This?

First Clo. E'en that.

Ham. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fel- 210 low 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 rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merri

209, omitted in Qq.-I. G.

ment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chop-fallen? Now get you 220 to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Hor. What's that, my lord?

Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth?

Hor. E'en so.

Ham. And smelt so? pah! [Puts down the skull. Hor. E'en so, my lord.

Ham. To what base uses we may return, Ho

ratio! Why may not imagination trace the
noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stop-
ping a bunghole?

Hor. "Twere to consider too curiously, to con-
sider so.

Ham. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him

230

thither with modesty enough and likelihood
to lead it: as thus: Alexander died, Alex-
ander was buried, Alexander returneth into 240
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 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 Ophelia, Laertes and Mourners following; King, Queen, their trains, &c.

The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow.?

250

And with such maimed rites? This doth be-
token

The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.
Couch we awhile, and mark.

[Retiring with Horatio.

Laer. What ceremony else?

Ham. That is Laertes, a very noble youth: mark. Laer. What ceremony else?

First 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

260

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.

Laer. Must there no more be done?

First Priest.

No more be done:

We should profane the service of the dead

266. "of bell and burial"; of has here the force of with.-H. N. H.