Read Hamlet by William Shakespeare book online free

By | August 9, 2017
Category: Public Domain Books Science fiction/fantasy>>Read Hamlet by William Shakespeare book online free

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.

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