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May fit us to our shape: If this should fail,
And that our drift look through our bad per-

formance, 'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this project Should have a back, or second, that might hold, Ifthis 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 prepard

him A chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping, If be by chance escape your vepom'd stuck, Our purpose may hold there. But stay, what noise ?

Enter Queen. How now, sweet queen?

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

Laertes. Laer. Drown'd! 0, where? (brook,

Queen. There is a willow grows ascaunt the Tbat shows bis hoar leaves in the glassy stream: Therewith fantastick garlands did she make Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long pur

ples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call

them: There on the pendent 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 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 indu'd Unto that element: but long it could not be, Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pall'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death. Laer.

Alas then, she is drown'd? Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.


Laer. Too much of water hast tbon, poor

Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears : But yet It is our trick ; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will: when these are gone, The woman will be out.--Adieu, my lord! I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it.

[Erit. King.

Let's follow, Gertrude: How much I had to do to calm bis rage! Now fear I, this will give it start again; Therefore, let's follow.


ACT V. SCENE I. A Church Yard. Enter Two Clowns, with Spades, &c. 1 Clo. Is she to be buried in christiau burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

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

1 Clo. How can that be, unless sbe drowned herself in her own defence ?

2 Clo. Why, 'tis found so.

1 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 baih three branches ; it is, to act, to do, and to perform; Argal, she drowned berself wittingly. 2 Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver.

| clo. Gi me leave. Here lies the water: good; here stands the man ; good: If the man go 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.

2 Clo. But is this law? 1 Clo. Ay, marry is't ; crowner's-quest law.

2 Clo. Will you ha' the truth op't? 'If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of cbristian burial.

1 Clo. Why there thou say'st: And the more

pity ; that great folks shall bave 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.

2 Clo. Was he a gentleman? 1 Clo. He was the first that ever bore arms. 2 Clo. Why, he had none.

1 Clo. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the scripture? The scripture says, Adam digged : Could he dig without arms? I'lí put another question to thee,: if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself

2 Clo. Go to.

1 Clo. What is he, that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the car. penter?

2 Clo. The gallows-maker, for that frame out. lives a thousand tenants.

1 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 stronger than the church : argal,

the gallows inay do well to thee. To't again: come.

2 Clo. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?

1 Clo. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
2 Clo. Marry, now I can tell.
1 Clo. To't.
2 Clo. Mass, I cannot tell.

Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance. i Clo. Cudgel thy brains no more about it; for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating : and, when you are asked this question next, say, a grave-maker; the houses that he makes, last till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan, and fetch me a stoup of liquor.

[Erii 2 Clown. 1 Clown digs, and sings. In youth, when I did love, did love,

Methought, it was very sweet,
To contract, 0, the time, for, ah, my behove

0, methought, there was nothing meet.

Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his business? he sings at grave-making:

Hor. Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Ham. 'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment bath the daintier sense. 1 Clo. But age, with his stealing steps,

Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me into the land,
As if I had never been such.

[Throws up a scull. Ham. That scull bad 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, 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?

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 loggarts with them ? mine ache to think on't. 1 Clo. A pickare and a spade, a spade, [Sings.

For-and a shrouding sheet: 0, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet.

[Throws up a scull. Ham. There's anotber: Why may not that be the scull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, bis 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 recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt ? will bis vouchers vouch him no more of bis 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 bimself have no more? ha?

Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.
Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins ?
Hor. Ay, my lord, and of calves-skins too.

Ham. They are sheep, and calves, which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow:-Whose grave's this, sirrah? 1 Clo. Mine, sir.

0, a pit of clay for to be made (Sings.

For such a guest is meet. Ham. I think it be thine, indeed, for thou liest in't.

1 Clo. You lie ont on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours; for my part, I do not lie in't, 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.

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

Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?
1 Clo. For no man, sir.
Ham, What woman then?
1 Clo. For none neither.
Ham. Who is to be buried in't?

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

How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo os. By the lord, Horatio, these 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 thon been a grave-maker?

1 Clo. Of all the days i'the year, I came to't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

Ham. How long's that since? 1 Clo. Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell

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