Clow.

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

Oth.

I tell thee she is, therefore make her grave straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.

Clow.

How can that be, unless she drown'd her self in her own defence?

Oth.

Why 'tis found so.

Clow.

It must be so offended, it cannot be else; for here lies the point, if I drown my self wittingly it argues an act; and an act hath three branches, it is to act, to do, and to perform, or all; she drown'd her self wittingly.

Oth.

Nay but hear you goodman delver.

Clow.

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; argal he that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life.

Oth.

But is this law?

Clow.

I marry is't, Crowners quest law.

Clow.

Will you have the truth on't, if this had not been a Gentlewoman she should have been buried without Christian burial.

Clow.

Why there thou sayest, and the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than we: Come my spade, there is no ancient Gentlemen but Gardeners, Ditchers, and Grave-makers, they hold up Adams profession.

Oth.

Was he a Gentleman?

Clow.

He was the first that ever bore arms.

I'll put another question to thee, if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thy self.

Oth.

Go to.

Clow.

What is he that builds stronger than either the Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter?

Oth.

The Gallows-maker, for that out-lives a thousand tenants.

Clow.

I like thy wit well, the gallows does well, but how does it well? it does well to those that do ill, now thou doest ill to say

the Gallows is built stronger than the Church: argal the Gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.

Oth.

Who builds stronger than a Mason, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter?

Clow.

I, tell me that and unyoke.

Oth.

Marry now I can tell.

Clow.

To't

Oth.

Mass I cannot tell.

Clow.

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating, and when you are askt this question next, say a Grave-maker, the houses he makes last till Doomsday. Go get thee in and fetch me a stoop of liquor.

In youth when I did love did love, [Song.
  Methought it was very sweet
To contract O the time for a my behove,
  O methought there was nothing a meet. Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham.

Has this fellow no feeling in his business? he sings in Grave-making.

Hor.

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Ham.

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

Clow.
But age with his stealing steps [Song.
  hath clawed me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me into the land,
  as if I had never been such.

Ham.

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once, how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if 'twere Cains jaw-bone, that did the first murther: this might be the pate of a Polititian which this asse now o're-reaches, one that would circumvent Heaven, might it not?

Hora.

It might my Lord.

Ham.

Or of a Courtier, which could say, good morrow my Lord, how doest thou sweet Lord? this might be my Lord such a one, that praised my Lord such a ones horse when he meant to beg him, might it not?

Hora.

I my Lord.

“Ham.

Why e'en so, and now my Lady worms Choples, and knockt about the mazer with a Sextons Spade;” here's a fine revolution, and we had the trick to see't; did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play at loggits with them? mine ake to think on't.

Clow.
A pickax and a spade a spade,
  for and a shrowding sheet,
O a pit of clay for to be made
  for such a guest is meet.

Ham.

There's another, why may not that be the skul of a Lawyer? where be his quiddities now, his quilities, 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 actions of battery? hum: this fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognisances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt: will vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases and doubles, than the length and bredth of a pair of Indentures? the very conveyances of his land will scarcely lie in this box, and must th' inheritor himself have no more? ha?

Hora.

Not a jot more my Lord.

Ham.

“Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?

Hora.

“I my Lord, and of calve-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?

Clow.

Mine Sir, or a pit of clay for to be made.

Ham.

I think it's thine indeed, for thou ly'st in't.

Clow.

You lye out on't Sir, and therefore 'tis not yours: for my part I do not lye in't, yet it's mine.

Ham.

Thou doest lye in't, to be in't and say it is thine, 'tis for the dead, not for the quick, therefore thou lyest.

Clow.

'Tis a quick lye Sir, 'twill again from me to you.

Ham.

What man doest thou dig it for?

Clow.

For no man Sir.

Ham.

What woman then?

Clow.

For none neither.

Ham.

Who is to be buried in't?

Clow.

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. Horatio this three years I have took notice of it, the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the Pesant comes so near the heel of the Courtier, he galls his kibe. How long hast thou been a Grave-maker?

Clow.

Of all the days i'th'year I came to't that day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbrass.

Ham.

How long is that since?

Clow.

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.

I marry, why was he sent into England?

Clow.

Why? because he was mad, he shall recover his wits there, or if he do not 'tis no great matter there.

Ham.

Why?

Clow.

'Twill not be seen in him there, there are men as mad as he.

Ham.

How came he mad?

Clow.

Very strangely they say.

Ham.

How strangely?

Clow.

Faith e'en with losing his wits.

Ham.

Upon what ground?

Clow.

Why here in Denmark: where I have been Sexton, man and boy thirty years.

Ham.

How long will a man lie i'th earth e're he rot?

Clow.

Faith if he be not rotten before he die, as we have many pocky coarses that will scarce hold the laying in, he will last you some eight years, or nine years: a Tanner will last you nine years.

Ham.

Why he more than another?

Clow.

Why Sir his hide is so tann'd with his trade, that he will keep out water a great while, and your water is a sore decayer of your whorson dead body: here's a skull now hath lien you i'th' earth three and twenty years.

Ham.

Whose was it?

Clow.

A whorson mad fellow's it was, whose do you think it was?

Ham.

Nay I know not.

Clow.

A pestilence on him for a mad rouge, he pour'd a flaggon of Rhenish on my head once; this same skull Sir, was Sir Yorick's skull the Kings Jester.

Ham.

This?

Clow.

E'en that.

Ha.

Alas poor Yorick, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy, he hath bore 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 kist I know not how oft: where be your jibes now, your jests, your songs, your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? not one now to mock your own grinning? quite chopsaln? Now get you to my Ladies table, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this savour she must come; make her laugh at that,

Hora

What's that my Lord?

Ham.

Dost thou think Alexander lookt on this fashion i'th' earth?

Hora.

E'en so.

Ham.

And smelt so? pah.

Hora.

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.

Hora.

'Twere 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. Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make lome, and why of that lome whereto he was converted might they not stop a Beer-barrel?

Laer.
What Ceremony else?

Ham.
That is Laertes a very noble youth.

Laer.
What Ceremony else?

Doct.
Her obsequies have been as far inlarg'd
As we have warranty; her death was doubtful,
And but that great command o're-sways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified been lodg'd:
For charitable prayers,
Flints and pebbles should be thrown on her,
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.

Laer.
Must there no more be done?

Doct.
No more:
We should profane the service of the dead
To sing a Requiem and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.

Laer.
Lay her i'th' earth,
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring: I tell thee churlish Priest
A ministring Angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.

Ham.
What? the fair Ophelia?

Qu.
Sweets to the sweet, farewel,
I hop'd thou should'st have been my Hamlet's wife,
I thought thy bride bed to have deckt sweet maid,
And not have strew'd thy grave.

Laer.
O treble woe!
Fall ten times double on that cursed head,

Whose wicked deeds deprived thee of
Thy most ingenuous sense: hold off the earth a while,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made
T'oretop old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blew Olympus.

Ham.
What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandring stars, and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? 'tis I,
Hamlet the Dane.

Laer.
Perdition catch thee.

Ham.
Thou pray'st not well: I prethee take thy fingers from my throat,
For though I am not spleenative and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear; hold off thy hand.

King.
Pluck them asunder.

Qu.
Hamlet, Hamlet.

All.
Gentlemen.

Hora.
Good my Lord be quiet.

Ham
Why I will fight with him upon this theam
Until my eye-lids will no longer wag.

Qu.
O my son, what theam?

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.

Qu.
Forbear him.

Ham.
Shew me what thou't do,
Wilt weep, wilt fight, wilt fast, wilt tear thy self,
Wilt drink up Esil, eat a Crocodile?
I'll do't; doest thou come here to whine?
To out-face me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I;
And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground
Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
Make Ossa like a wart; nay, and thou'lt mouth
I'll rant as well as thou.

Qu.
This is meer madness,
And thus a while the sit will work on him;
Anon as patient as a female Doe,
When first her golden couplets are disclos'd,

His silence will sit drooping.

Ham.
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, a Dog will have his day. [Exit Hamlet and Horatio.

King.
I pray thee good Horatio wait upon him.
Strengthen your patience in our last nights speech,
We'll put the matter to the present push.
Good Gertrard set some watch over your son,
This Grave shall have a living monument,
“An hour of quiet thereby shall we see,
“Till then in patience our proceeding be. [Exeunt. Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham.
So much for this Sir you shall now see the other:
You do remember all the circumstance.

Hora.
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 in the Bilboes, rashly,
“And prais'd be rashness for it; let us know
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well
When our deep plots do fall, and that should learn us,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them how we will.

Hora.
That is most certain.

Ham.
Up from my Cabbin,
My Sea-gown wrapt about me, in the dark
I grop'd to find out them, had my desire,
Reach'd their packet, and in fine withdrew
To mine own room again, making so bold
(My fears forgetting manners) to unfold
Their grand Commission, where I found, Horatio,
An exact command,
“Larded with many several sorts of reasons,
“Importing Denmarks health, and Englands too,
“With hoe such Bugs and Goblins in my life,
“That on the supervise, no leisure bated,
“No not to stay the grinding of the ax,
My head should be strook off.

Hora.
Is't possible;

Ham.
Here's the Commission, read it at more leasure:
But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?

Hora.
I beseech you.

Ham.
Being thus be-netted round with villains,
E're I could make a Prologue to my brains
They had begun the Play: I sate 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 Yeomans service; wilt thou know
Th'effect of what I wrote?

Hora
I good my Lord.

Ham.
An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the Palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear,
“And stand a Comma 'tween their amities,
“And many such like, as Sir of great charge,
That on the view of these contents,
Without debatement further more or less
He should those bearers put to sudden death,
“Not shriving time allow'd.

Hora.
How was this seal'd?

Ham,
Why even in that was heaven ordinant:
I had my fathers Signet in my purse,
Which was the model of that Danish Seal,
Folded the Writ up in the form of th other,
Subscrib'd it, gav't th' impression, plac'd it safely,
The changling never known; now the next day
Was our Sea-fight, and what to this was sequent
Thou know'st already.

Hora.
So Guildenstern and Rosencraus went to't.

Ham.
They are not near my conscience, their defeat
Does by their own insinuation grow;
“'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
“Between the pass and fell incensed point.
“Of mighty opposites.

Hor.
Why what a King is this!

Ham.
Does it not, think you, stand me now upon?
He that hath kill'd my King, and whor'd my mother,
Stept in between th' election and my hopes,
Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
And with such cosenage, is't not perfect conscience? [Enter a Courtier.

Court.
Your Lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.

Ham.
I humbly thank you Sir,
Doest know this water-flie?

Hora.
No my good Lord.

Ham.

Thy state is the more graciou, for 'tis a vice to know him; he hath much land and fertil, let a beast be Lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the Kings mess; 'tis a chough, but as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.

Court.

Sweet Lord, If your Lordship were at leisure I should impart a thing to you from his Majesty.

Ham.

I will receive it, Sir, with all diligence of spirit; your bonnet to his right use, 'tis for the head.

Court.

I thank your Lordship, 'tis very hot.

Ham.

No believe me 'tis very cold, ithe wind is Northerly.

Court.

It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed.

Ham.

But yet methinks it is very soultry and hot, for my complexion.

Court.

Exceedingly my Lord, it is very soultry, as 'twere I cannot tell how. My Lord, his Majesty bad me signifie unto you, that he has laid a great wager on your head, Sir this is the matter.

Ham.

I beseech you remember.

Cour.

Nay good my Lord, for my ease. Sir here is newly come to Court Laertes, believe me an absolute Gentleman, full of most excellent differences, of very soft society, and great shew: indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the Card or Kalendar of Gentry, for you shall find in him the substance of what part a Gentleman would see.

Ham.

Sir, his definement suffers no lossin you, though I know to divide him inventorially, would dizzy th' arithmetick of memory, and yet but raw neither in respect of his quick sail; but in the verity of extolment I take him to be a soul of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness, as to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirrour, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.

Court.

Your Lordship speaks most infallibly of him.

Ham.

The concernancy Sir, why do we wrap the Gentleman in our rawer breath?

Cour.

Sir.

Hora.

Is't not possible to understand in another tongue, you will do't Sir really

Ham.

What imports the nomination of this Gentleman?

Court.

Of Laertes?

Ham.

His purse is empty already, all's golden words are spent.

Ham

Of him Sir.

Cour.

I know you are not ignorant.

Ham.

I would you did Sir, yet if you did it would not much approve me: well Sir.

Court

You are ignorant of what excellence Laertes is.

Ham.

I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.

Court

I mean Sir for his weapon, but in the imputation laid on him by them in his meed he's unfellowed.

Ham.
What's his weapon?

Court.
Single Rapier.

The King Sir hath wager'd with him six Barbery horses, against the which he has impawn'd as I take it six French Rapiers and Poniards, with their assigns, as Girdle, Hanger, and so: three of the carriages are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages and of very liberal conceit.

Ham.

What call you the carriages?

Hora.

I knew you must be edified by the margin e're you had done.

Court.

The carriages Sir are the hangers.

Ham.

The phrase would be more german to the matter if we could carry a cannon by our sides, I would it might be hangers till then: but on, six Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three liberal conceited carriages, that's the French bet against the Danish, why is this all you call it?

Court.

The King Sir, hath laid Sir, that in a dozen passes between your self and him he shall not exceed you three hits, he hath laid on twelve for nine, and it would come to immediate trial, if your Lordship would vouchsafe the answer.

Ham.

How if I answer no?

Court.

I mean my Lord the opposition of your person in trial.

Ham.

Sir I will walk here in the Hall, if it please his Majesty, it is the breathing time of the day with me, let the foils be brought, the Gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.

Court.

Shall I deliver you so?

Ham.

To this effect Sir, after what flourish your nature will.

Court.

I commend my duty to your Lordship.

Ham.

Yours does well to commend it self, there are no tongues else for his turn.

Hora.

This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.

Ham.

“He did so Sir with his dug before he suckt it;” thus has he and many more of the same breed that I know, the drossie age dotes on, only get the tune of the time, and out of an habit of incounter, a kind of misty collection, which carries them through and through the most profane and renowned opinions; and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.

Enter a Lord.

Lord.

My Lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Ostrick who brings back to him that you attend him in the hall, he sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time?

Ham.

I am constant to my purposes, they follow the Kings pleasure; if his fitness speaks, mine is ready, now or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.

Lord.

The King and Queen and all are coming down.

Ham.

In happy time.

Lord.

The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes before you go to play.

Ham.

She well instructs me.

Hora.

You will lose my Lord.

Ham.

I do not think so, since he went into France I have been in continual practice; I shall win at the odds: thou wouldest not think how ill all's here about my heart, but it is no matter.

Hora.

Nay good my Lord.

Ham.

It is but foolery, but it is such a kind of boding as would perhaps trouble a woman.

Hora.

If your mind dislike any thing obey it, I will forestal their repair hither, and say you are not fit.

Ham.

Not a whit, we defie Augury, “there is a special providence in the fall of a Sparrow: if it be, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come, the readiness is all, since no man of ought he leaves knows what 'tis to leave betimes, let be.

King
Come Hamlet, come and take this hand from me.

Ham.
Give me your pardon Sir, I have done you wrong,
But pardon't as you are a Gentleman: this presence knows,
And you must needs have heard how I am punisht
With a sore distraction; what I have done
That might your nature, honour, and exception
Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? never Hamlet;
If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,
And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it:
Who does it then? his madness: if't be so,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged,
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy;
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil

Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,
That I have shot my arrow o're the house,
And hurt my brother.

Laer.
I am satisfied in nature,
Whose motive in this case should stir me most
To my revenge, “but in my terms of honour
“I stand aloof, and will no reconcilement,
“Till by some elder Masters of known honour
“I have a voice and president of peace
“To my name ungor'd: but all that time”
I do receive your offered love like love,
And will not wrong it.

Ham.
I embrace it freely, and will this brothers wager
Frankly play.
Give us the foils.

Laer.
Come, one for me.

Ham.
I'll be your foil Laertes, in mine ignorance
Your skill shall like a star i'th darkest night
Appear.

Laer.
You mock me Sir.

Ham.
No on my honour.

King.
Give them the foils young Ostrick: cousin Hamlet,
You know the wager.

Ham
Very well my Lord:
Your Grace has laid the odds o'th' weaker side.

King.
I do not fear it, I have seen you both,
But since he is better we have therefore odds.

Laer.
This is too heavy, let me see another.

Ham
This likes me well, these foils have all a length.

Ostr
I my good Lord.

King.
Set me the stoops of wine upon the table;
If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the Battlements their Ordnance fire;
The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,
And in the cup an Onyx shall he throw
Richer than that which four successive Kings
In Denmarks Crown have worn. Give me the cups,
And let the Kettle to the Trumpet speak,
The Trumpet to the Cannoneer without,
The Cannons to the Heavens the Heavens to Earth.
Now the King drinks to Hamlet: come begin, [Trumpets the while.
And you the Judges bear a wary eye.

Ham.
Come on Sir.

Laer.
Come my Lord.

Ham.
One.

Laer.
No.

Ham.
Judgment.

Ostr.
A hit, a very palpable hit. [Drums, Trumpets, and Shot, Flourish, a Piece goes off.

Laer.
Well again.

King.
Stay, give me drink, Hamlet this pearl is thine,
Here's to thy health: give him the cup.

Ham.
I'll play this bout first, set it by a while.
Come, another hit, what say you?

Laer.
I do confess't.

King.
Our son shall win.

Queen.
He's fat and scant of breath.
Here Hamlet, take my Handkerchief, wipe thy brows:
The Queen salutes thy fortune Hamlet.

Ham.
Good Madam.

King.
Gertrard do not drink.

Qu.
I will my Lord, I pray you pardon me.

King.
It is the poisoned cup, it is too late.

Ham.
I dare not drink yet Madam, by and by.

Qu.
Come let me wipe thy face.

Laer.
My Lord I'll hit him now.

King.
I do not think't.

Laer.
And yet it is almost against my conscience.

Ham.
Come, for the third Laertes, you do but dally,
I pray you pass with your best violence,
I am sure you make a wanton of me.

Laer.
Say you so? come on.

Ostr.
Nothing neither way.

Laer.
Have at you now.

King.
Part them, they are incens't.

Ham.
Nay come again.

Ostr.
Look to the Queen there ho.

Hora
They bleed on both sides, how is't my Lord?

Ostr.
How is't Laertes?

Laer.
Why as a Woodcock in mine own sprindge Ostrick,
I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.

Ham.
How does the Queen?

King.
She swoons to see them bleed.

Qu.
No no the drink, the drink, O my dear Hamlet,
The drink, the drink, I am poisoned.

Ham.
O villain! ho let the door be lockt,
Treachery, seek it out.

Laer.
It is here Hamlet; thou art slain,

No medicine in the world can do thee good,
In thee there is not half an hours life,
The treacherous instrument is in my hand,
Unbated and envenom'd, the foul practice
Hath turn'd it self on me; lo here I lie
Never to rise again: thy mothers poison'd,
I can no more, the King, the King's to blame.

Ham.
The point envenom d too, then venom to thy work.

All.
Treason, treason.

King.
O yet defend me friends, I am but hurt.

Ham.
Here thou incestuous Dane,
“Drink off this potion: is the Onyx here?
Follow my mother.

Laert.
“He is justly serv'd, it is a poison temper'd by himself.
Exchange forgiveness with me noble Hamlet,
Mine and my fathers death come not upon thee,
Nor thine on me. [Dies.

Ham.
Heaven make thee free of it, I follow thee:
I am dead Horatio, wretched Queen farewel.
You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act,
Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant Death
Is strict in his arrest) O I could tell you;
But let it be: Horatio I am dead,
Thou livest, report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.

Hora.
Never believe it.
I am more an antick Roman than a Dane,
Here's yet some liquor left.

Ham.
As th'art a man
Give me the cup, let go, I'll have't:
O Horatio what a wounded name,
Things standing thus unknown, shall I leave behind me?
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart
Absent thee from felicity a while,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain [A march afar off.
To tell my story: what warlike noise is this? Enter Ostrick.

Ostr.
Young Fortinbrass with conquest come from Poland,
Th' Embassadors of England give this warlike volley.

Ham.
O I die Horatio,
The potent poison quite o'regrows my spirit;
I cannot live to hear the news from England,
But I do prophesie the election lights

On Fortinbrass; he has my dying voice,
So tell him, with th' occurrents more and less
Which have solicited: the rest in silence.

Hora.
Now cracks a noble heart, good night sweet Prince,
And choires of Angels sing thee to thy rest.
Why does the drum come hither? Enter Fortinbrass with the Embassadours.

Fort.
Where is this sight?

Hora.
What is it you would see?
If ought of woe or wonder, cease your search?

Fort.
“This quarry cries on havock:” O proud death,
What feast is toward in thine infernal Cell,
That thou so many Princes at a shot
So bloodily hast strook?

Embass.
The sight is dismal,
And our affairs from England come too late,
The ears are sensless that should give us hearing.
To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,
That Rosencraus and Guildenstern are dead,
Where should we have our thanks?

Hora.
Not from his mouth,
Had it th' ability of breath to thank you
He never gave commandement for their death.
But since so apt upon this bloody question
You from the Pollack wars, and you from England
Are here arrived, give order that these bodies
High on a stage be placed to publick view,
And let me speak to th' yet unknowing world
How these things came about; so shall you hear
Of cruel, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and for no cause,
And in this upshot, purposes mistook,
Fall'n on the inventors heads: all this can I
Truly deliver.

Fort.
Let us haste to hear it,
And call the nobless to the audience:
For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune,
I have some rights of memory in this Kingdom,
Which now to claim my interest doth invite me.

Hora.
Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
And from his mouth whose voice will draw no more:
But let this same be presently perform'd,
Even while mens minds are wild, lest more mischance

On plots and errors happen.

Fort.
“Let four Captains
Bear Hamlet like a Souldier to the Stage,
For he was likely had he been put on,
T'have prov'd most royal: and for his passage,
The Souldiers Musick and the rights of War
Speak loudly for him.
Take up the bodies; such a sight as this
Becomes the Field, but here shews much amiss.
“Go bid the Souldiers Shoot. [Exeunt. FINIS.