The Tragedie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark is a Webnovel created by William Shakespeare.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
_Clo_. I marry is’t, Crowners Quest Law.
_Other_. Will you ha the truth on’t: if this had [Sidenote: truth an’t]
not beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried out of[2] Christian Buriall. [Sidenote: out a]
_Clo_. Why there thou say’st. And the more pitty that great folke should haue countenance in this world to drowne or hang themselues, more then their euen[3] Christian. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen, but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue-makers; they hold vp _Adams_ Profession.
_Other_. Was he a Gentleman?
_Clo_. He was the first that euer bore Armes. [Sidenote: A was]
[4]_Other_. Why he had none.
_Clo_. What, ar’t a Heathen? how dost thou vnderstand the Scripture? the Scripture sayes _Adam_ dig’d; could hee digge without Armes?[4] Ile put another question to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confesse thy selfe—-
_Other_. Go too.
_Clo_. What is he that builds stronger then either the Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter?
_Other_. The Gallowes-maker; for that Frame outliues a thousand Tenants. [Sidenote: that outliues]
[Footnote 1: _ergo_, therefore.]
[Footnote 2: _without_. The pleasure the speeches of the Clown give us, lies partly in the undercurrent of sense, so disguised by stupidity in the utterance; and partly in the wit which mainly succeeds in its end by the failure of its means.]
[Footnote 3: _equal_, that is _fellow_ Christian.]
[Footnote 4: _From ‘Other’ to_ ‘Armes’ _not in Quarto._]
[Page 228]
_Clo_. I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes does well; but how does it well? it does well to those that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes may doe well to thee. Too’t againe, Come.
_Other_. Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter?
_Clo_. I, tell me that, and vnyoake.[1]
_Other_. Marry, now I can tell.
_Clo_. Too’t.
_Other_. Ma.s.se, I cannot tell.
_Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off._[2]
_Clo_. Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your dull a.s.se will not mend his pace with beating, and when you are ask’t this question next, say a Graue-maker: the Houses that he makes, lasts [Sidenote: houses hee makes]
till Doomesday: go, get thee to _Yaughan_,[3] fetch [Sidenote: thee in, and fetch mee a soope of]
me a stoupe of Liquor.
_Sings._[4]
_In youth when I did loue, did loue_, [Sidenote: _Song._]
_me thought it was very sweete: To contract O the time for a my behoue, O me thought there was nothing meete[5]_ [Sidenote: there a was nothing a meet.]
[Sidenote: _Enter Hamlet & Horatio_]
_Ham_. Ha’s this fellow no feeling of his businesse, [Sidenote: busines? a sings in graue-making.]
that he sings at Graue-making?[6]
_Hor_. Custome hath made it in him a property[7]
of easinesse.
_Ham_. ‘Tis ee’n so; the hand of little Imployment hath the daintier sense.
_Clowne sings._[8]
_But Age with his stealing steps_ [Sidenote _Clow. Song._]
_hath caught me in his clutch_: [Sidenote: hath clawed me]
[Footnote 1: ‘unyoke your team’–as having earned his rest.]
[Footnote 2: _Not in Quarto._]
[Footnote 3: Whether this is the name of a place, or the name of an innkeeper, or is merely an inexplicable corruption–some take it for a stage-direction to yawn–I cannot tell. See _Q._ reading.
It is said to have been discovered that a foreigner named Johan sold ale next door to the Globe.]
[Footnote 4: _Not in Quarto._]
[Footnote 5: A song ascribed to Lord Vaux is in this and the following stanzas made nonsense of.]
[Footnote 6: Note Hamlet’s mood throughout what follows. He has entered the shadow of death.]
[Footnote 7: _Property_ is what specially belongs to the individual; here it is his _peculiar work_, or _personal calling_: ‘custom has made it with him an easy duty.’]
[Footnote 8: _Not in Quarto._]
[Page 230]
_And hath shipped me intill the Land_, [Sidenote: into]
_as if I had neuer beene such_.
_Ham_. That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knaue iowles it to th’ grownd, [Sidenote: the]
as if it were _Caines_ Iaw-bone, that did the first [Sidenote: twere]
murther: It might be the Pate of a Polit.i.tian which [Sidenote: murder, this might]
this a.s.se o’re Offices: one that could circ.u.muent [Sidenote: a.s.se now ore-reaches; one that would]
G.o.d, might it not?
_Hor_. It might, my Lord.