|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:13:42 GMT
First Clown
Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:13:52 GMT
Second Clown
Marry, now I can tell.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:14:14 GMT
First Clown
To't.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:14:25 GMT
Second Clown
Mass, I cannot tell.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:15:28 GMT
First Clown
Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull
ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when
you are asked this question next, say 'a
grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till
doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a
stoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown
He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet,
To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,
O, methought, there was nothing meet.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:15:38 GMT
HAMLET
Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he
sings at grave-making?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:15:51 GMT
HORATIO
Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:16:02 GMT
HAMLET
'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath
the daintier sense.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:16:12 GMT
First Clown
[Sings]
But age, with his stealing steps,
Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me intil the land,
As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:16:32 GMT
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! It
might be the pate of a politician, which this ass
now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,
might it not?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:16:47 GMT
HORATIO
It might, my lord.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:17:22 GMT
HAMLET
Or of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,
sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This might
be my lord such-a-one, that praised my lord
such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:17:35 GMT
HORATIO
Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:18:00 GMT
HAMLET
Why, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, and
knocked about the mazzard 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.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 12, 2014 3:18:48 GMT
First Clown
[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
|
|
