_Ham._ To _England_! wherefore? 95 _Clowne_ Why they say he shall haue his wittes there, Or if he haue not, t'is no great matter there, It will not be seene there. _Ham._ Why not there? _Clowne_ Why there they say the men are as mad as he. 100 _Ham_. Whose scull was this? _Clowne_ This, a plague on him, a madde rogues it was, He powred once a whole flagon of Rhenish of my head, Why do not you know him? this was one _Yorickes_ scull. _Ham._ Was this? I prethee let me see it, alas poore _Yoricke_ 105 I knew him _Horatio_, A fellow of infinite mirth, he hath caried mee twenty times vpon his backe, here hung those lippes that I haue Kissed a hundred times, and to see, now they abhorre me: Wheres your iests now _Yoricke_? your flashes of meriment: now go 110 to my Ladies chamber, and bid her paint her selfe an inch thicke, to this she must come _Yoricke_. _Horatio_, I prethee tell me one thing, doost thou thinke that _Alexander_ looked thus? _Hor._ Euen so my Lord. 115 _Ham._ And smelt thus? _Hor._ I my lord, no otherwise. _Ham._ No, why might not imagination worke, as thus of _Alexander_, _Alexander_ died, _Alexander_ was buried, _Alexander_ became earth, of earth we make clay, and _Alexander_ being 120 but clay, why might not time bring to passe, that he might stoppe the boung hole of a beere barrell? Imperious _Cæsar_ dead and turnd to clay, Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the winde away. _Enter King and Queene, Leartes, and other lordes, with a Priest after the coffin._ _Ham._ What funerall's this that all the Court laments? 125 It shews to be some noble parentage: Stand by a while. _Lear._ What ceremony else? say, what ceremony else? _Priest_ My Lord, we haue done all that lies in vs, And more than well the church can tolerate, 130 She hath had a Dirge sung for her maiden soule: And but for fauour of the king, and you, She had beene buried in the open fieldes, Where now she is allowed christian buriall. _Lear._ So, I tell thee churlish Priest, a ministring Angell 135 shall my sister be, when thou liest howling. _Ham._ The faire _Ofelia_ dead! _Queene_ Sweetes to the sweete, farewell: I had thought to adorne thy bridale bed, faire maide, And not to follow thee vnto thy graue. 140 _Lear._ Forbeare the earth a while: sister farewell: _Leartes leapes into the graue._ Now powre your earth on, _Olympus_ hie, And make a hill to o're top olde _Pellon_: _Hamlet leapes in_ Whats he that coniures so? _after Leartes_ _Ham._ Beholde tis I, _Hamlet_ the Dane. 145