To contract, O! the time, for, ah! my behove*,

O, methought, there was nothing meet.

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.

1 Clo. But age, with his stealing steps,

Hath claw'd me in his clutch",

And hath shipped me intill the land,
As if I had never been such.

[Throws up a scull.

Ham. That scull 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'er-reaches, one that would circumvent God, might it not?

Hor. It might, my lord.

Ham. Or of a courtier, which could say, "Goodmorrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?" This might be my lord such-a-one, that praised my

character. The words there given with the music (neither of them has the author's name) are these:

"I lothe that I did love

In youth that I thoughte swete,
As tyme requyred for my behoofe,

Me thincke thei are not meete."

The other verses, sung by the 1 Clown, are taken from the same poem by Lord Vaux, but, like the above, they are much corrupted. The whole will be found in "Percy's Reliques," i. 190, edit. 1812. Another MS. copy, without the music, (MS. Harl. No. 1703) states that it was made by Lord Vaux "in the time of noble queen Mary."

To contract, O! the time, for, AH! my behove] The O and the ah in this line are of course only the interjections of the Clown in the double exertion of singing and digging.

5 Hath CLAW'D me in his clutch,] This is the quarto reading, and we prefer it because it accords with the original song: the folio has caught for "claw'd." which this ass now O'ER-REACHES ;] The folio has o'er-offices.

61

lord such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it, might it not?

Hor. Ay, my lord.

Ham. 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 them'? mine ache to think on't.

1 Clo. 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.

[Sings.

[Throws up another scull.

Ham. There's another: why may not that be the scull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he suffer this rude knaves now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery? Humph! This fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands

7

but to play at loggats with them?] Loggats was an English game, at least as old as the time of Henry VIII., being forbidden in a statute of that reign. It seems originally to have been played with logs or loggets, which were thrown at a stake stuck in the ground, and hence its name. It is still played, but generally with a bowl, and pins, (as a substitute for logs) to be thrown at by the players. It seems, in fact, to be much the same game as that known in many parts of the country as "kettle-pins," or skittle-pins.

8

this RUDE knave-] So the folio, where this scene is on the whole better given than in the quartos, which have "mad knave."

and double ones too,] The quartos have only "and doubles :" in the preceding line they omit "his;" and below, have scarcely for "hardly," and sirrah for "sir."

will hardly lie in this box, and must the inheritor himself have no more? ha?

Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.

Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?
Hor. Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

Ham. They are sheep, and calves, which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.-Whose grave's this, sir?

1 Clo. Mine, sir.—

O, a pit of clay for to be made

For such a guest is meet.

[Sings.

Ham. I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't. 1 Clo. 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.

Ham. 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.

1 Clo. 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me to you.

Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?

1 Clo. For no man, sir.

Ham. What woman, then?

1 Clo. For none, neither.

Ham. Who is to be buried in't?

1 Clo. 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. By the lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note of it; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier', he galls his kibe. How long hast thou been a grave-maker?

1

the heel of the courtier,] So the quartos, including that of 1603: the folio has it "so near the heels of our courtier." In the Clown's reply, the quartos omit "all." The sense of "picked," in the previous part of the sentence, is explained by Minshew in 1617, as "trimmed, or dressed sprucely." "Picked" may also allude to the pointed shoes formerly worn.

1 Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. Ham. How long is that since?

1 Clo. Cannot 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.

Ham. Ay, marry; why was he sent into England?

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

Ham. Why?

1 Clo. "Twill not be seen in him there; there, the men are as mad as he.

Ham. How came he mad?

1 Clo. Very strangely, they say.

Ham. How strangely?

1 Clo. 'Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

Ham. Upon what ground?

1 Clo. Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man, and boy, thirty years.

Ham. How long will a man lie i'the earth ere he rot?

1 Clo. 'Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, (as we have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce hold the laying in) he will last you some eight year, or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year. Ham. Why he more than another?

1 Clo. Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he will keep out water a great while, and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a scull now; this scull hath lain you i̇'the earth three-and-twenty years.

Ham. Whose was it?

2

I have been SEXTON here,] The folio misreads, "I have been sixteen here: " the quartos, 1604, &c., "sexton." The quarto, 1603, has no part of the 1 Clown's answer, nor of some preceding questions and replies, though this scene on the whole is not given so imperfectly as some other parts of the tragedy. -now-a-days,] Only in the folio.

3

1 Clo. A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?

Ham. Nay, I know not.

1 Clo. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once.

This same scull, sir, this same scull, sir, was Yorick's scull, the king's jester.

Ham. This?

1 Clo. E'en that.

[Takes the Scull.

Ham. Let me see1. 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 chapfallen? Now, get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.—Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Hor. What's that, my lord?

Ham. Dost thou think, Alexander looked o'this fashion i'the earth?

Hor. E'en so.

Ham. And smelt so? pah!

Hor. E'en so, my lord.

[Puts down the Scull.

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?

4 Let me see.] Only in the folio; and above it characteristically repeats "this same scull, sir."

5 - how abhorred IN my imagination IT is!] Here the quartos are to be preferred the folio reads, "how abhorred my imagination is."

6 - to mock your own GRINNING?] The folio, jeering; but the scull did not jeer, though it "grinned." In the next line, the quartos have "my lady's table,” excepting the quarto, 1603, which supports the folio.