Speeches (Lines) for First Clown in "The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark"

(stage directions). Enter two Clowns, [with spades and pickaxes].

First Clown. Is she to be buried in Christian burial when she wilfully seeks her own salvation?

Second Clown. I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight.
The crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.

First Clown. How can that be, unless she drown'd 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, and to perform;
argal, she drown'd 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 an'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 count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves
more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade! There is no
ancient gentlemen but gard'ners, ditchers, and grave-makers. They
hold up Adam's profession.

Second Clown. Was he a gentleman?

First Clown. 'A 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 digg'd. 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 ill. 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.

(stage directions). Enter Hamlet and Horatio afar off.

First Clown. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will
not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask'd this
question next, say 'a grave-maker.' The houses he makes lasts
till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of
liquor.

(stage directions). [Clown digs and] sings.

First Clown. In youth when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet;
To contract- O- the time for- a- my behove,
O, methought there- a- was nothing- a- meet.

Hamlet. 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment hath the daintier
sense.

First Clown. [sings]
But age with his stealing steps
Hath clawed me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me intil the land,
As if I had never been such.

Hamlet. Why, e'en so! and now my Lady Worm's, chapless, and knock'd
about the mazzard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution,
and we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the
breeding but to play at loggets with 'em? Mine ache to think
on't.

First Clown. [Sings]
A pickaxe 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. 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 'tis not yours.
For my part, I do not lie in't, 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 again 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, this 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?

First Clown. Of all the days i' th' 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 be sent into England?

First Clown. Why, because 'a was mad. 'A shall recover his wits there;
or, if 'a do not, 'tis no great matter there.

Hamlet. Why?

First Clown. 'Twill not he 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' th' earth ere he rot?

First Clown. Faith, if 'a be not rotten before 'a die (as we have many
pocky corses now-a-days that will scarce hold the laying in, I
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 tann'd with his trade that 'a 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 hath lien
you i' th' 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 pour'd 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.