The Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke Part 7

So G.o.d be with you all, G.o.d bwy Ladies.

G.o.d bwy you Loue. _exit Ofelia._ _Lear._ Griefe vpon griefe, my father murdered, My sister thus distracted: Cursed be his soule that wrought this wicked act.

_king_ Content you good Leartes for a time, Although I know your griefe is as a floud, Brimme full of sorrow, but forbeare a while, And thinke already the reuenge is done On him that makes you such a haplesse sonne.

_Lear._ You haue preuail'd my Lord, a while I'le striue, To bury griefe within a tombe of wrath, Which once vnhea.r.s.ed, then the world shall heare [H2v]

Leartes had a father he held deere.

_king_ No more of that, ere many days be done, You shall heare that you do not dreame vpon. _exeunt om._ _Enter Horatio and the Queene._ _Hor._ Madame, your sonne is safe arriv'de in _Denmarke_, This letter I euen now receiv'd of him, Whereas he writes how he escap't the danger, And subtle treason that the king had plotted, Being crossed by the contention of the windes, He found the Packet sent to the king of _England_, Wherein he saw himselfe betray'd to death, As at his next conuersion with your grace, He will relate the circ.u.mstance at full.

_Queene_ Then I perceiue there's treason in his lookes That seem'd to sugar o're his villanie: But I will soothe and please him for a time, For murderous mindes are always jealous, But know not you _Horatio_ where he is?

_Hor._ Yes Madame, and he hath appoyntd me To meete him on the east side of the Cittie To morrow morning.

_Queene_ O faile not, good _Horatio_, and withall, com- A mothers care to him, bid him a while (mend me Be wary of his presence, lest that he Faile in that he goes about.

_Hor._ Madam, neuer make doubt of that: I thinke by this the news be come to court: He is arriv'de, obserue the king, and you shall Quickely finde, _Hamlet_ being here, Things fell not to his minde.

_Queene_ But what became of _Gilderstone_ and _Rossencraft_?

_Hor._ He being set ash.o.r.e, they went for _England_, And in the Packet there writ down that doome To be perform'd on them poynted for him: And by great chance he had his fathers Seale, So all was done without discouerie. [H3]

_Queene_ Thankes be to heauen for blessing of the prince, _Horatio_ once againe I take my leaue, With thowsand mothers blessings to my sonne.

_Horat._ Madam adue.

_Enter King and Leartes._ _King._ Hamlet from _England_! is it possible?

What chance is this? they are gone, and he come home.

_Lear._ O he is welcome, by my soule he is: At it my iocund heart doth leape for ioy, That I shall liue to tell him, thus he dies.

_king_ Leartes, content your selfe, be rulde by me, And you shall haue no let for your reuenge.

_Lear._ My will, not all the world.

_King_ Nay but Leartes, marke the plot I haue layde, I haue heard him often with a greedy wish, Vpon some praise that he hath heard of you Touching your weapon, which with all his heart, He might be once tasked for to try your cunning.

_Lea._ And how for this?

_King_ Mary Leartes thus: I'le lay a wager, Shalbe on _Hamlets_ side, and you shall giue the oddes, The which will draw him with a more desire, To try the maistry, that in twelue venies You gaine not three of him: now this being granted, When you are hot in midst of all your play, Among the foyles shall a keene rapier lie, Steeped in a mixture of deadly poyson, That if it drawes but the least dramme of blood, In any part of him, he cannot liue: This being done will free you from suspition, And not the deerest friend that _Hamlet_ lov'de Will euer haue Leartes in suspect.

_Lear._ My lord, I like it well: But say lord _Hamlet_ should refuse this match.

_King_ I'le warrant you, wee'le put on you Such a report of singularitie, [H3v]

Will bring him on, although against his will.

And lest that all should misse, I'le haue a potion that shall ready stand, In all his heate when that he calles for drinke, Shall be his period and our happinesse.

_Lear._ T'is excellent, O would the time were come!

Here comes the Queene. _enter the Queene._ _king_ How now Gertred, why looke you heauily?

_Queene_ O my Lord, the yong _Ofelia_ Hauing made a garland of sundry sortes of floures, Sitting vpon a willow by a brooke, The enuious sprig broke, into the brooke she fell, And for a while her clothes spread wide abroade, Bore the yong Lady vp: and there she sate smiling, Euen Mermaide-like, twixt heauen and earth, Chaunting olde sundry tunes vncapable As it were of her distresse, but long it could not be, Till that her clothes, being heauy with their drinke, Dragg'd the sweete wretch to death.

_Lear._ So, she is drownde: Too much of water hast thou _Ofelia_, Therefore I will not drowne thee in my teares, Reuenge it is must yeeld this heart releese, For woe begets woe, and griefe hangs on griefe. _exeunt._ _enter Clowne and an other_ _Clowne_ I say no, she ought not to be buried In christian buriall.

2. Why sir?

_Clowne_ Mary because shee's drownd.

2. But she did not drowne her selfe.

_Clowne_ No, that's certaine, the water drown'd her.

2. Yea but it was against her will.

_Clowne_ No, I deny that, for looke you sir, I stand here, If the water come to me, I drowne not my selfe: But if I goe to the water, and am there drown'd, _Ergo_ I am guiltie of my owne death: [H4]

Y'are gone, goe y'are gone sir.

2. I but see, she hath christian buriall, Because she is a great woman.

_Clowne_ Mary more's the pitty, that great folke Should haue more authoritie to hang or drowne Themselues, more than other people: Goe fetch me a stope of drinke, but before thou Goest, tell me one thing, who buildes strongest, Of a Mason, a s.h.i.+pwright, or a Carpenter?

2. Why a Mason, for he buildes all of stone, And will indure long.

_Clowne_ That's prety, too't agen, too't agen.

2. Why then a Carpenter, for he buildes the gallowes, And that brings many a one to his long home.

_Clowne_ Prety agen, the gallowes doth well, mary howe dooes it well? the gallowes dooes well to them that doe ill, goe get thee gone: And if any one aske thee hereafter, say, A Graue-maker, for the houses he buildes Last till Doomes-day. Fetch me a stope of beere, goe.

_Enter Hamlet and Horatio._ _Clowne_ A picke-axe and a spade, A spade for and a winding sheete, Most fit it is, for t'will be made, _he throwes vp a shouel._ For such a ghest most meete.

_Ham._ Hath this fellow any feeling of himselfe, That is thus merry in making of a graue?

See how the slaue joles their heads against the earth.

_Hor._ My lord, Custome hath made it in him seeme no- _Clowne_ A pick-axe and a spade, a spade, (thing.

For and a winding sheete, Most fit it is for to be made, For such a ghest most meet.

_Ham._ Looke you, there's another _Horatio_.

Why mai't not be the soull of some Lawyer? [H4v]

Me thinkes he should indite that fellow Of an action of Batterie, for knocking Him about the pate with's shouel: now where is your Quirkes and quillets now, your vouchers and Double vouchers, your leases and free-holde, And tenements? why that same boxe there will scarce Holde the conueiance of his land, and must The honor lie there? O pittifull transformance!

I prethee tell me _Horatio_, Is parchment made of sheep-skinnes?

_Hor._ I my Lorde, and of calues-skinnes too.

_Ham._ Ifaith they prooue themselues sheepe and calues That deale with them, or put their trust in them.

There's another, why may not that be such a ones Scull, that praised my Lord such a ones horse, When he meant to beg him? _Horatio_, I prethee Lets question yonder fellow.

Now my friend, whose graue is this?

_Clowne_ Mine sir.

_Ham._ But who must lie in it? (sir.

_Clowne_ If I should say, I should, I should lie in my throat _Ham._ What man must be buried here?

_Clowne_ No man sir.

_Ham._ What woman?

_Clowne_. No woman neither sir, but indeede One that was a woman.

_Ham._ An excellent fellow by the Lord _Horatio_, This seauen yeares haue I noted it: the toe of the pesant, Comes so neere the heele of the courtier, That hee gawles his kibe, I prethee tell mee one thing, How long will a man lie in the ground before hee rots?

_Clowne_ I faith sir, if hee be not rotten before He be laide in, as we haue many pocky corses, He will last you, eight yeares, a tanner Will last you eight yeares full out, or nine.

_Ham._ And why a tanner? [I1]

_Clowne_ Why his hide is so tanned with his trade, That it will holde out water, that's a parlous Deuourer of your dead body, a great soaker.

Looke you, heres a scull hath bin here this dozen yeare, Let me see, I euer since our last king _Hamlet_ Slew _Fortenbra.s.se_ in combat, yong _Hamlets_ father, Hee that's mad.

_Ham._ I mary, how came he madde?

_Clowne_ Ifaith very strangely, by loosing of his wittes.

_Ham._ Vpon what ground?

_Clowne_ A this ground, in _Denmarke_.

_Ham._ Where is he now?

_Clowne_ Why now they sent him to _England_.

_Ham._ To _England_! wherefore?

_Clowne_ Why they say he shall haue his wittes there, Or if he haue not, t'is no great matter there, It will not be seene there.

_Ham._ Why not there?

_Clowne_ Why there they say the men are as mad as he.

_Ham._ Whose scull was this?

_Clowne_ This, a plague on him, a madde rogues it was, He powred once a whole flagon of Rhenish of my head, Why do not you know him? this was one _Yorickes_ scull.

_Ham._ Was this? I prethee let me see it, alas poore _Yoricke_ I knew him _Horatio_, A fellow of infinite mirth, he hath caried mee twenty times vpon his backe, here hung those lippes that I haue Kissed a hundred times, and to see, now they abhorre me: Wheres your iefts now _Yoricke_? your flashes of meriment: now go to my Ladies chamber, and bid her paint her selfe an inch thicke, to this she must come _Yoricke_. _Horatio_, I prethee tell me one thing, doost thou thinke that _Alexander_ looked thus?

_Hor._ Euen so my Lord.

_Ham._ And smelt thus?

_Hor._ I my lord, no otherwise. [I1v]

_Ham._ No, why might not imagination worke, as thus of _Alexander_, _Alexander_ died, _Alexander_ was buried, _Alexander_ became earth, of earth we make clay, and _Alexander_ being but clay, why might not time bring to pa.s.se, that he might stoppe the boung hole of a beere barrell?

Imperious Caesar dead and turnd to clay, Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the winde away.

_Enter King and Queene, Leartes, and other lordes, with a Priest after the coffin._ _Ham._ What funerall's this that all the Court laments?

It shews to be some n.o.ble parentage: Stand by a while.

_Lear._ What ceremony else? say, what ceremony else?

_Priest_ My Lord, we haue done all that lies in vs, And more than well the church can tolerate, She hath had a Dirge sung for her maiden soule: And but for fauour of the king, and you, She had beene buried in the open fieldes, Where now she is allowed christian buriall.

_Lear._ So, I tell thee churlish Priest, a ministring Angell shall my sister be, when thou liest howling.

_Ham._ The faire _Ofelia_ dead!

_Queene_ Sweetes to the sweete, farewell: I had thought to adorne thy bridale bed, faire maide, And not to follow thee vnto thy graue.

_Lear._ Forbeare the earth a while: sister farewell: L_eartes leapes into the graue._ Now powre your earth on, _Olympus_ hie, And make a hill to o're top olde _Pellon_: _Hamlet leapes_ Whats he that coniures so? _in after _L_eartes_ _Ham._ Beholde tis I, _Hamlet_ the Dane.

_Lear._ The diuell take thy soule.

_Ham._ O thou praiest not well, I prethee take thy hand from off my throate, For there is something in me dangerous, Which let thy wisedome feare, holde off thy hand: [I2]

I lou'de _Ofelia_ as deere as twenty brothers could: Shew me what thou wilt doe for her: Wilt fight, wilt fast, wilt pray, Wilt drinke vp vessels, eate a crocadile? Ile doot: Com'st thou here to whine?

And where thou talk'st of burying thee a liue, Here let vs stand: and let them throw on vs, Whole hills of earth, till with the heighth therof, Make Oosell as a Wart.

_King_. Forbeare _Leartes_, now is hee mad, as is the sea, Anone as milde and gentle as a Doue: Therfore a while giue his wilde humour scope.

_Ham._ What is the reason sir that you wrong mee thus?