SCENE I. A churchyard. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark  Shakespeare homepage  |  Hamlet  | Act 5, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE I. A churchyard. 

 Enter two Clowns, with spades,  & c  First Clown  Is she to be buried in Christian burial that 

 wilfully seeks her own salvation? 

 Second Clown  I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave 

 straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it 

 Christian burial. 

 First Clown  How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her 

 own defence? 

 Second Clown  Why, 'tis found so. 

 First Clown  It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For 

 here lies the point:  if I drown myself wittingly, 

 it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it 

 is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned 

 herself wittingly. 

 Second Clown  Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,-- 

 First Clown  Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here 

 stands the man; good; if the man go to this water, 

 and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he 

 goes,--mark you that; but if the water come to him 

 and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he 

 that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life. 

 Second Clown  But is this law? 

 First Clown  Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law. 

 Second Clown  Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been 

 a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' 

 Christian burial. 

 First Clown  Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that 

 great folk should have countenance in this world to 

 drown or hang themselves, more than their even 

 Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient 

 gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: 

 they hold up Adam's profession. 

 Second Clown  Was he a gentleman? 

 First Clown  He was the first that ever bore arms. 

 Second Clown  Why, he had none. 

 First Clown  What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the 

 Scripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:' 

 could he dig without arms? I'll put another 

 question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the 

 purpose, confess thyself-- 

 Second Clown  Go to. 

 First Clown  What is he that builds stronger than either the 

 mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? 

 Second Clown  The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a 

 thousand tenants. 

 First Clown  I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows 

 does well; but how does it well? it does well to 

 those that do in: now thou dost ill to say the 

 gallows is built stronger than the church: argal, 

 the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come. 

 Second Clown  'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or 

 a carpenter?' 

 First Clown  Ay, tell me that, and unyoke. 

 Second Clown  Marry, now I can tell. 

 First Clown  To't. 

 Second Clown  Mass, I cannot tell. 



 Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance  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. 

 HAMLET  Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he 

 sings at grave-making? 

 HORATIO  Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness. 

 HAMLET  'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath 

 the daintier sense. 

 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  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? 

 HORATIO  It might, my lord. 

 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? 

 HORATIO  Ay, my lord. 

 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. 

 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  HAMLET  There's another: why may not that be the skull of a 

 lawyer? Where be his quiddities 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? Hum! 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 will hardly lie in 

 this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha? 

 HORATIO  Not a jot more, my lord. 

 HAMLET  Is not parchment made of sheepskins? 

 HORATIO  Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too. 

 HAMLET  They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance 

 in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose 

 grave's this, sirrah? 

 First Clown  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. 

 First Clown  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. 

 First Clown  'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to 

 you. 

 HAMLET  What man dost thou dig it for? 

 First Clown  For no man, sir. 

 HAMLET  What woman, then? 

 First Clown  For none, neither. 

 HAMLET  Who is to be buried in't? 

 First Clown  One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead. 

 HAMLET  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 a note of 

 it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the 

 peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he 

 gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been a 

 grave-maker? 

 First Clown  Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day 

 that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. 

 HAMLET  How long is that since? 

 First Clown  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. 

 HAMLET  Ay, marry, why was he sent into England? 

 First Clown  Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits 

 there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there. 

 HAMLET  Why? 

 First Clown  'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men 

 are as mad as he. 

 HAMLET  How came he mad? 

 First Clown  Very strangely, they say. 

 HAMLET  How strangely? 

 First Clown  Faith, e'en with losing his wits. 

 HAMLET  Upon what ground? 

 First Clown  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? 

 First Clown  I' 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. 

 HAMLET  Why he more than another? 

 First Clown  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 skull now; this skull has lain in the earth 

 three and twenty years. 

 HAMLET  Whose was it? 

 First Clown  A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was? 

 HAMLET  Nay, I know not. 

 First Clown  A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a 

 flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, 

 sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester. 

 HAMLET  This? 

 First Clown  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 rims 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 favour she must 

 come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell 

 me one thing. 

 HORATIO  What's that, my lord? 

 HAMLET  Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' 

 the earth? 

 HORATIO  E'en so. 

 HAMLET  And smelt so? pah! 



 Puts down the skull  HORATIO  E'en so, my lord. 

 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? 

 HORATIO  '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 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  The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow? 

 And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken 

 The corse they follow did with desperate hand 

 Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate. 

 Couch we awhile, and mark. 



 Retiring with HORATIO  LAERTES  What ceremony else? 

 HAMLET  That is Laertes, 

 A very noble youth: mark. 

 LAERTES  What ceremony else? 

 First Priest  Her obsequies have been as far enlarged 

 As we have warrantise: her death was doubtful; 

 And, but that great command o'ersways the order, 

 She should in ground unsanctified have lodged 

 Till 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 home 

 Of bell and burial. 

 LAERTES  Must there no more be done? 

 First Priest  No more be done: 

 We should profane the service of the dead 

 To sing a requiem and such rest to her 

 As to peace-parted souls. 

 LAERTES  Lay her i' the earth: 

 And from her fair and unpolluted flesh 

 May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, 

 A ministering angel shall my sister be, 

 When thou liest howling. 

 HAMLET  What, the fair Ophelia! 

 QUEEN GERTRUDE  Sweets to the sweet: farewell! 



 Scattering flowers  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  O, treble woe 

 Fall ten times treble on that cursed head, 

 Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense 

 Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile, 

 Till I have caught her once more in mine arms: 



 Leaps into the grave  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 head 

 Of blue Olympus. 

 HAMLET  [Advancing]     What is he whose grief 

 Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow 

 Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand 

 Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, 

 Hamlet the Dane. 



 Leaps into the grave  LAERTES  The devil take thy soul! 



 Grappling with him  HAMLET  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  Pluck them asunder. 

 QUEEN GERTRUDE  Hamlet, Hamlet! 

 All  Gentlemen,-- 

 HORATIO  Good my lord, be quiet. 



 The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave  HAMLET  Why I will fight with him upon this theme 

 Until my eyelids will no longer wag. 

 QUEEN GERTRUDE  O my son, what theme? 

 HAMLET  I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers 

 Could not, with all their quantity of love, 

 Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her? 

 KING CLAUDIUS  O, he is mad, Laertes. 

 QUEEN GERTRUDE  For love of God, forbear him. 

 HAMLET  'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do: 

 Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself? 

 Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile? 

 I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine? 

 To outface me with leaping in her grave? 

 Be buried quick with her, and so will I: 

 And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw 

 Millions of acres on us, till our ground, 

 Singeing his pate against the burning zone, 

 Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth, 

 I'll rant as well as thou. 

 QUEEN GERTRUDE  This is mere madness: 

 And thus awhile the fit will work on him; 

 Anon, as patient as the female dove, 

 When that her golden couplets are disclosed, 

 His silence will sit drooping. 

 HAMLET  Hear you, sir; 

 What is the reason that you use me thus? 

 I loved you ever: but it is no matter; 

 Let Hercules himself do what he may, 

 The cat will mew and dog will have his day. 



 Exit  KING CLAUDIUS  I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him. 



 Exit HORATIO 

 To LAERTES  Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech; 

 We'll put the matter to the present push. 

 Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. 

 This grave shall have a living monument: 

 An hour of quiet shortly shall we see; 

 Till then, in patience our proceeding be. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Hamlet  | Act 5, Scene 1 

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