First
Clown

Second
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Second

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Clown S

Second
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Fifth Act

SCENE I ELSINORE

A CHURCHYARD

Enter two Clowns, with spades and mattocks

Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she wilfully seeks her own salvation?

I tell thee she is; and therefore make her grave straight; the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial. How can that be, unless she drown'd herself in her own defence?

Why, 'tis found so.

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, to perform : ergo, she drown'd herself wittingly.
Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,—

Give 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: ergo, he that is not guilty of his own death,
shortens not his own life.

Second
Clown

First
Clown

Second
Clown

First

Clown

Second

Clown

First
Clown S

Second
Clown

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First
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First

Clown

law. quest

Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' Christian burial.

Why, there thou say'st; and the more pity that great folk should 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.

Was he a gentleman ?

He was the first that ever bore arms.

Why, he had none.

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.

Go to.

What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

The gallows-maker; for that outlives a thousand tenants.

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: ergo, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again; come.

“Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter ?"

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

Mass, I cannot tell.

Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask'd this question next, say "a grave-maker"; the houses he makes last till doomsday. Go, get thee in and fetch me a stoup of liquor.

[First Clown digs, and sings]

In youth, when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet,

[Exit Second Clown]

To contract, oh the time, for-a my behove,

O! methought there-a was nothing a-meet.

Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings in grave-making?

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

'Tis e'en so; the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

[Sings]

But age, with his stealing steps,

Hath clawed me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me intil the land,
As if I had never been such.

[Throws up a skull]

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once; how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if 'twere Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?

It might, my lord.

Or of a courtier, which could say "Good morrow, sweet

Hor.

Ham.

First
Clown S

Ham.

Hor.

Ham.

Hor.

Ham.

lord! How dost thou, sweet lord?” This might
be my Lord Such-a-one, that praised my Lord Such-
a-one's horse, when he went to beg it, might it not?
Ay, my lord.

Why, e'en so; and now my Lady Worm's; chopless, and
knock'd about the massene with a
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 'em? mine ache to think on't.

[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 another skull]

Look you, there's another, Horatio- why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillites, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries, his leases, and freehold, and tenements? To have his fine pate full of fine dirt! Will vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases and doubles, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box; and must th' inheritor himself have no more ?-ha?

Not a jot more, my lord.

Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?

Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

I' faith, they prove themselves sheep and calves that deal with them, or put their trust in them. I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah?

Mine, sir

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

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

You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours; for my part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.

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.

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

What man dost thou dig it for ?

Ham.

First

Clown

Ham.

First

For no man, sir.

Clown

Ham.

What woman, then?

First

Clown

Ham.

First

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Ham.

First

Clown

Ham.

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

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 took 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 grave-maker?

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

How long is that since ?

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.

Ay, marry; why was he sent into England?