Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
First Clown
Well, she was a woman, but now she is dead.
One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.
HAMLET
How simple-minded this fool is! We must be so specific or he doesn’t get it. I swear, Horatio, there is a fine line between the peasants and the educated. How long have you been a gravedigger?
How absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?
First Clown
I became a gravedigger the day the late King Hamlet defeated Fortinbras.
Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
HAMLET
How long has that been?
How long is that since?
First Clown
Don’t you know that? Every fool knows that day; the day young Hamlet, the one who went mad and was sent to England, was born.
Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.
HAMLET
Oh yes, and why was he sent to England?
Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
First Clown
I think it was because he was mad, and needed some time to regain his senses. If he doesn’t it does not matter.
Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.
HAMLET
Why?
Why?
First Clown
Because there, no one will notice.
'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.
HAMLET
Why did he go crazy?
How came he mad?
First Clown
People say it was very strange?
Very strangely, they say.
HAMLET
How so?
How strangely?
First Clown
He lost his mind.
Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
HAMLET
On what grounds?
Upon what ground?
First Clown
Here in Denmark. I have lived here the past thirty years.
Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.
HAMLET
How long does it take a man to rot once he is buried?
How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?
First Clown
If he is not rotten before he dies, and we see that a lot these days, he will last eight or nine years. A leather-maker will last at least nine years.
I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
HAMLET
Why does he last longer?
Why he more than another?
First Clown
Because his skin is so tough from his line of work, it keeps the water out. Water is what decays the body. This skull here has been in the earth twenty-three years.
Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.
HAMLET
Whose was it?
Whose was it?
First Clown
Some crazy guy. Who do you think it was?
A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?
HAMLET
I don’t know.
Nay, I know not.
First Clown
This guy was a crazy pest! He poured a whole bottle of wine on my head once. This, sir, was Yorick, the kin’s jester.
A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.
HAMLET
This?
This?
First Clown
Yes, that.
E'en that.
HAMLET
Let me see.
Let me see.
Takes the skull
Oh, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio. He was a funny fellow. He rode me on his back a thousand times. This is terrible and makes me sick. Here is where his lips, I kissed, used to be. Where are your jokes, now? Your songs? Your humor that used to make everyone laugh? Now, go to my lady’s room and tell her she is going to end up like you someday. That’ll make her laugh. Tell me one thing, Horatio.
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.
HORATIO
What’s that, my lord?
What's that, my lord?
HAMLET
Do you think Alexander the Great looked like this when he was buried?
Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?
HORATIO
Probably so.
E'en so.
HAMLET
And smelled this bad? Whew!
And smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull
HORATIO
Yes, my lord.
E'en so, my lord.
HAMLET
It’s horrible what happens to us in the end, Horatio! Can you believe the noble dust of Alexander the Great could end up as a plug?
To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?
HORATIO
It’s hard to imagine.
'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
HAMLET
No, not really. Follow me: First he died and was buried. Then he returns to the dust which is basically the earth. The earth creates loam and the loam is used to plug a beer barrel. Ceasar, died and was turned into clay. He might stop a hole to keep out the wind. Oh, to think the once great man now plugs up a wall. But, wait! Be quiet! Here comes the king.
No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, & c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, & c
Who are the queen and her courtiers following? And with such somber ceremony. This means the corpse took its own life. Must be from a wealthy fellow. Let’s stay and watch a while.
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO
LAERTES
What ceremony are you going to preach?
What ceremony else?
HAMLET
Look. That is Laertes, a very noble young man.
That is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.
LAERTES
What ceremony are you going to preach?
What ceremony else?
First Priest
I’ve said as much as I can, since her death was suspicious. She should be buried outside the church graveyard, and have stones thrown onto her grave. Instead, she is here, buried in sacred ground, dressed like a virgin with flowers all around and the tolling of the bells.
Her obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.
LAERTES
Isn’t there anything else that can be done?
Must there no more be done?
First Priest
No more can be done. It would be disrespectful to the other dead if we gave her any more rites.
No more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.
LAERTES
Go ahead then, and lay her in the ground. May violets grow from her grave. I tell you priest, my sister will be an angel in heaven while you’re howling in hell.
Lay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.
HAMLET
What? The beautiful Ophelia!
What, the fair Ophelia!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Flowers for the sweet. Goodbye!
Sweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I had hoped you would be my daughter-in-law. I rather be decorating your bridal bed than your grave, sweet girl.
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.
LAERTES
Oh, my troubles. May curses fall ten times on the head who cause this. Wait! Let me hold her once more!
O, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now throw the dirt on both of us until you have made a mountain.
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.
HAMLET
[Advancing]
Who is the one whose grief is so loud and whose words are so sad the stars stand still. It is me, Hamlet the Dane.
What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave
LAERTES
May the devil take your soul!
The devil take thy soul!
Grappling with him
HAMLET
You don’t know how to pray. Take your fingers from my throat. Be smart, and do not make me angry. Take your hands off of me.
Thou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.
KING CLAUDIUS
Pull them out.
Pluck them asunder.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Hamlet, Hamlet!
Hamlet, Hamlet!
All
Gentlemen…
Gentlemen,--
HORATIO
Good my lord, be quiet.
Good my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave
HAMLET
I will fight him over this until my eyes are permanently closed.
Why I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.
QUEEN GERTRUDE