Laer. What ceremony else? Ham. That is Laertes, A very noble youth. Mark. Laer. What ceremony else? Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful; And, but that great command o'ersways the order, She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers, Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her. Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites, Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of bell and burial. Laer. Must there no more be done? 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. Laer. Lay her i' th' earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be When thou liest howling. Ham. What, the fair Ophelia? Queen. Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.[Scatters flowers.] I hop'd 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. Laer. O, treble woe Fall ten times treble on that cursed head Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Depriv'd thee of! Hold off the earth awhile, Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.Leaps in the grave. Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead Till of this flat a mountain you have made T' o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head Of blue Olympus. Ham. [comes forward] What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand Like wonder- wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane.[Leaps in after Laertes. Laer. The devil take thy soul! [Grapples with him]. Ham. Thou pray'st not well. I prithee take thy fingers from my throat; For, though I am not splenitive and rash, Yet have I in me something dangerous, Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand! King. Pluck them asunder. Queen. Hamlet, Hamlet! All. Gentlemen! Hor. Good my lord, be quiet.[The Attendants part them, and they come out of thegrave.] Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme Until my eyelids will no longer wag. Queen. O my son, what theme? Ham. I lov'd Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers Could not(with all their quantity of love) Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her? King. O, he is mad, Laertes. Queen. For love of God, forbear him! Ham. 'Swounds, show me what thou't do. Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself? Woo't drink up esill? 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. This is mere madness; And thus a while the fit will work on him. Anon, as patient as the female dove When that her golden couplets are disclos'd, His silence will sit drooping. Ham. Hear you, sir! What is the reason that you use me thus? I lov'd 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. I pray thee, 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.
SCENE II. Elsinore. A hall in the Castle.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
