To contract, (O!) the time, for-a my behove, Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that 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 hath the daintier sense. 1st G. D.: But age, with his stealing steps, [Throws up a skull. Hamlet. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! This might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'erreaches, one that would circumvent heaven, might it not? Hora. It might, my lord. [Bones thrown up. Hamlet. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats with? Mine ache to think on't. 1st G. D. [sings]: A pick-ax, and a spade, a spade, [Throws up another skull. Hamlet. There's another. Why might not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his 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? I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sir? 1st G. D. Mine, sir. [Sings.] O! a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet. Hamlet. I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't. 1st G. D. You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part, I do not lie in 't, and yet it is mine. Hamlet. 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. 1st G. D. "Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from 1st G. D. she's dead. Hamlet. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. How long hast thou been a grave-maker? 1st. G. D. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. Hamlet. 1st G. D. How long is that since? Can not you tell that? every fool can tell that. It was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that is mad, and sent into England. Hamlet. Ay, marry; why was he sent into England? PROPERTY OF DEPARTMENT OF DRAMATIC ART 1st G. D. Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits there; or if he do not, 'tis no great matter there. Hamlet. 1st G. D. men are as Hamlet. 1st G. D. Hamlet. 1st G. D. Hamlet. Why? "Twill not be seen in him there; there the mad as he. How came he mad? Very strangely, they say. How strangely? 'Faith, e'en with losing his wits. Upon what ground? 1st G. D. Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. Hamlet. How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot? 1st G. D. 'Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, he will last you some eight year or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year. Here's a skull now; this skull hath lain i' the earth three-and-twenty years. Hamlet. Whose was it? 1st G. D. A mad fellow's it was: Whose do you think it was? Hamlet. Nay, I know not. 1st G. D. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester. Hamlet. This? This same 1st G. D. E'en that. Hamlet. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow 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 your gibes now? your gambols? 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 chap-fallen? Now, get you 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. Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hora. What's that, my lord? Hamlet. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fash ion i' the earth? Hora. E'en so. Hamlet. And smelt so? pah! Hora. E'en so, my lord. [Takes and puts down the skull. Hamlet. 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. Hamlet. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into 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, OTHELLO ACT I, SCENE 3-OTHELLO ON HIS MARRIAGE SCENE: The Council-chamber at Venice. Oth. Most potent, grave and reverend signiors, Bra. Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration and what mighty magic, For such proceeding I am charg'd withal, A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion |