In the graveyard at Elsinore, Hamlet and Horatio come upon two gravediggers, one of whom sings while he works. The gravediggers are debating whether the person for whom they are digging the grave committed suicide. Observing them, Hamlet ponders all the different skulls in the graveyard, wondering who they once belonged to. Picking one up, Hamlet learns that it once belonged to Yorick, who was the court jester at Elsinore when Hamlet was a boy. Hamlet remembers him fondly, and he laments the fact that someone who was once funny and joyful has simply turned into a skull in a graveyard. His musings are interrupted by the entrance of Claudius, Gertrude, Laertes, and a whole host of attendants. It’s Ophelia’s funeral. Hamlet watches from afar until Laertes jumps in the grave, begging to be buried with his sister. Hamlet leaps in with him and challenges Laertes to a duel.
First Gravedigger
She’s getting a Christian burial, the one who sought her own salvation?
Second Gravedigger
I’m telling you that she is. Therefore, make her grave right away. The coroner examined the case and decided that she should have a Christian burial.
First Gravedigger
How can that be, unless she drowned herself in self-defense?
Second Gravedigger
Well, that was found to be the case.
First Gravedigger
It must have been in "so offendendo" it couldn’t have been anything else. Here’s my point: if I drown myself on purpose, it means there’s an act. And an act has three parts: to act, to do, and to perform. Therefore, she drowned herself on purpose.
Second Gravedigger
No, you listen to me, Mr. Gravedigger.
First Gravedigger
Hear me out first. Here lies the water – good. Here stands the man –good. If the man goes to the water and drowns himself, willingly or not, he goes. Do you follow that? But if the water comes to him, and drowns him, then he doesn’t drown himself. Therefore, he that is not guilty of his own death doesn’t shorten his own life.
Second Gravedigger
But is that the law?
First Gravedigger
Yes, it is. It’s the coroner’s law.
Second Gravedigger
If you want to know the truth of the matter, if this hadn’t been a woman of noble birth, she wouldn’t be getting a Christian burial.
First Gravedigger
You’re right. It’s a pity that powerful folks have more freedom to drown or hang themselves than the rest of us. Give me my spade. In ancient times, all the noblemen were either gardeners, ditch diggers, or grave makers. They were continuing Adam’s profession.
Second Gravedigger
Was Adam a nobleman?
First Gravedigger
He was the first man to bear arms.
Second Gravedigger
But, he didn’t have a family coat of arms.
First Gravedigger
Are you an ignorant heathen who doesn’t know his Bible? The Scripture says that Adam dug. How could he dig without arms? Let me ask you another question. If you don’t get it right, then go be hanged.
Second Gravedigger
Go ahead.
First Gravedigger
Who can build something stronger than either a stone mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?
Second Gravedigger
The gallows maker, because his structure outlives a thousand tenants.
First Gravedigger
I like your wit. A gallows does good. But how does it do good? It does good to those who do bad. Now you’re bad when you say that a gallows is stronger than a church. Therefore, a gallows might do you some good. Go ahead, try it again.
Second Gravedigger
Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?
First Gravedigger
Answer correctly and you can rest your overworked brain.
Second Gravedigger
Hell, I don’t know.
First Gravedigger
Try.
Second Gravedigger
I swear, I don’t know.
First Gravedigger
Stop beating your brains out over it. After all, beating a stupid mule won’t make it go any faster. The next time you’re asked this question, answer “a grave-maker.” The houses he makes last until Judgement Day. Now, go to Yaughan’s pub and get me a pint of beer.
In youth when I did love, did love,
I thought it was very sweet
To arrange...uh...the time for...uh...my beloved
Oh, I thought there...uh...was nothing...appropriate.
Hamlet
[Aside to Horatio] This fellow must not have any feelings, to sing while digging a grave.
Horatio
Long practice has made him insensitive.
Hamlet
That must be it. The idle rich have a daintier sensitivity.
First Gravedigger
But age with his quiet steps
Has caught me in his grasp
And has shipped me into the ground
As if I had never existed.
Hamlet
Once, that skull had a tongue in it and could sing. This fool throws it on the ground as if it were no more than the jawbone of an ass, like the one used by Cain to murder his brother, Abel. It might be the head of a once powerful politician who could sidestep God’s rulings, but now he’s ruled over by this jackass.
Horatio
It might be so, my lord.
Hamlet
Or the head of a courtier who once said, “Good morning, sweet lord. How are you, sweet lord?” It might be Lord So-and-So who praised Lord Such-and-Such’s horse, hoping that it would be given to him as a gift.
Horatio
Yes, my lord.
Hamlet
This could be the noblewoman, Lady Worm, who no longer has any cheeks and is knocked about the head by this workman’s shovel. Why, that’s a fine reversal in fortune – if only we had the ability to see it. Did all her fine upbringing lead to nothing more than having her bones tossed around like horseshoes? I hate to think about it.
First Gravedigger
A pickax and a spade, a spade
And more, a burial sheet.
Oh, a pit of clay to be made
For such a guest is just right.
Hamlet
There’s another. Might this not be the skull of a lawyer? Where are his subtle legal arguments now? His closing statements? His cases? His property titles and legal tricks? Why does he let himself be knocked about the head with a dirty shovel by this rascal, and not file a charge of assault and battery? Huh! This lawyer, in his day, was a big property owner, with numerous mortgages, loans, deeds, and rents. All that remains from those assets is his noble skull full of dirt. Will those deeds yield him a plot of land no larger than a legal contract? You could barely fit all his documents inside the box in which he lies. Is that all the property he has? Ha.
Horatio
Not a bit more, my lord.
Hamlet
Isn’t writing parchment made from sheep skins?
Horatio
Yes, my lord, and also from calf skins.
Hamlet
You’d be as stupid as sheep and calves to think that security in life can be obtained through pieces of parchment. I’ll speak to this fellow. [To First Gravedigger] Whose grave is this, sir?
First Gravedigger
Mine, sir.
Oh, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
Hamlet
I think it’s yours indeed, since you lie in it.
First Gravedigger
You lie outside of it, sir, and therefore it’s not yours. As for me, I don’t lie down in it, and yet it’s mine.
Hamlet
Ah, but you do tell a lie in it – to be in it and say it’s yours. It belongs to the dead, not the quick (the living). Therefore, you lie.
First Gravedigger
It’s a “quick” lie, sir. It went quickly from me to you.
Hamlet
For what man do you dig it?
First Gravedigger
For no man, sir.
Hamlet
For what woman, then?
First Gravedigger
For no woman, either.
Hamlet
Who’s to be buried in it?
First Gravedigger
Someone who was a woman, sir, but, rest her soul, now she’s dead.
Hamlet
[To Horatio] How precise this rascal is! We’ll have to speak by the book, or he’ll seize on every ambiguity in our words. I swear, Horatio, it seems to me that in recent years everyone has become so meticulous in their language, that you can’t tell the peasants from the courtiers. [To Gravedigger] How long have you been a gravedigger?
First Gravedigger
I started the very day our deceased King Hamlet defeated King Fortinbras of Norway.
Hamlet
How long has that been?
First Gravedigger
Don’t you know? Every fool knows when that was. It was the very day that young Prince Hamlet was born, the one who’s gone crazy and has been sent to England.
Hamlet
Yes, but why England?
First Gravedigger
Why? Because he’s mad. He’ll recover his wits there. Or if he doesn’t, it’s no big deal.
Hamlet
Why’s that?
First Gravedigger
They won’t notice. In England, all the men are as crazy as he is.
Hamlet
How did he become crazy?
First Gravedigger
Very strangely, they say.
Hamlet
What do you mean, strangely?
First Gravedigger
His madness is very strange.
Hamlet
Upon what grounds did they determine this?
First Gravedigger
Why, right here in Denmark. I’ve been the sexton here at this church since I was a boy, thirty years ago.
Hamlet
How long will a man lie in the earth before he rots?
First Gravedigger
Well, if he’s not rotten before he dies – and we have a lot of pus-filled corpses that’ll hardly hold together long enough to be buried, given all the syphilis going around – he’ll last about eight years, nine if he’s a leather tanner.
Hamlet
Why will the tanner last longer?
First Gravedigger
Why, sir, his skin is so tanned from his work that it’ll keep water out for some time, and water is a horrible decayer of the damn body.
Here’s another skull. This one has lain in the ground for twenty-three years.
Hamlet
Whose was it?
First Gravedigger
A detestable, crazy fellow, he was. Whose skull do you think it was?
Hamlet
I don’t know.
First Gravedigger
A plague on him, the mad rogue! Once, he poured a pitcher of wine on my head. This skull, sir, this very skull was Yorick’s, the King’s jester.
Hamlet
This?
First Gravedigger
That very one.
Hamlet
Let me see it. Oh, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio. He had a million jokes and an excellent imagination. He let me ride on his back a thousand times. It’s horrible to imagine what his back looks like now; it makes me gag. Here’s where his lips hung that kissed me countless times. Where are your taunts, your games, your songs, that sense of humor that used to make the table roar with laughter? There’s no one now to mock that grinning face. You look quite down in the mouth. You should go visit some noble Lady, and tell her that, even with an inch of make-up, this is how she’s going to end up. That’ll make her laugh. Horatio, tell me one thing.
Horatio
What's that, my lord?
Hamlet
Do you think that Alexander the Great looked like this in the ground?
Horatio
Very much so.
Hamlet
And smelled this bad? Yuck!
Horatio
Afraid so, my lord.
Hamlet
What ordinary purposes we end up serving, Horatio! With just a little imagination, we could trace the noble dust of Alexander until we find him plugging a beer keg.
Horatio
You’re thinking about it too much.
Hamlet
No, not a bit. To follow Alexander’s path – with proper modesty – the likelihood is as follows: Alexander died, he was buried, he returned to dust. Dust is earth; we make clay of earth; and why couldn’t the clay from his dust be used as a stopper for a keg? The Emperor Julius Caesar, dead and turned to clay, might be filling a hole to block the wind. Wow, that bit of clay which once kept the entire world in awe might be patching a wall to keep out the winter chill!
Quiet! Come over here! Here come the King, Queen, and some courtiers. Who’s that fellow? And why this shoddy funeral procession? This indicates that whoever’s in that coffin took their own life. Yet it must be someone of high social rank. Let’s crouch down over here and watch.
Laertes
What additional ceremony is to be performed?
Hamlet
[To Horatio] That’s Laertes, a very noble youth. Watch.
Laertes
What additional ceremony is to be performed?
Priest
Her funeral service has been enlarged as far as authorized. The cause of her death was questionable. If the King hadn’t overruled the normal procedures, she’d be buried in a common graveyard. Instead of religious prayers, she’d just have dirt and pebbles thrown on her coffin. Yet she’s being allowed holy rites and a funeral procession, with her flower draped coffin accompanied by a bell ringer.
Laertes
Can’t any more be done?
Priest
Nothing more can be done. We’d be degrading the holy funeral service if we sang the same solemn hymns for her as for virtuous, departed souls.
Laertes
Put her in the ground, and let violets grow from her beautiful and unblemished flesh. I’m telling you, you mean-spirited priest, that she’ll be a benevolent angel in Heaven when you’re howling in Hell.
Hamlet
[To Horatio] What, is that Ophelia?
Gertrude
Sweets to the sweet. Farewell. I had hoped that you would be Hamlet’s wife. I wanted to spread flowers on your bridal bed, not your grave.
Laertes
Oh, Ophelia, I wish that misery ten times worse than what I feel would fall on the damned head of him whose wicked deed caused you to lose your wonderful mind. Don’t throw dirt on her yet! I want to hold her once more in my arms.
Now shovel the dirt on both of us, the living and the dead, until this flat ground becomes a mountain so high it overlooks Mount Olympus, home of the gods.
Hamlet
Who is this whose grief is so intense and speech so sorrowful that the passing stars stand still in amazement. I’m Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.
Laertes
Go to Hell!
Hamlet
You don’t pray very well, do you? Now I’m begging you; take your hands off my throat. Sir, though I’m not quick-tempered or rash, I can be dangerous, and you should beware of this. Take your hand away!
Claudius
Pull them apart.
Gertrude
Hamlet, Hamlet!
Horatio
My lord, stop it.
Hamlet
Why, I’ll fight him over this until I die.
Gertrude
My son, why are you fighting?
Hamlet
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers’ love couldn’t add up to mine. [To Laertes] What would you do for her?
Claudius
Hamlet’s mad, Laertes.
Gertrude
[To Claudius] For God’s sake, give him a break.
Hamlet
Come on, show me what you'd do. Would you cry, fight, tear yourself apart. Would you drink vinegar, eat a crocodile? I’d do all of that. Did you come here to wail in order to show me up at her grave? So you’d be buried alive with her. Well, so would I. You boast of mountains. Let them throw millions of acres of earth on Ophelia and me, until this mound burns its scalp against the sun and makes the the largest mountain in Greece look like a wart. If you shriek, I’ll howl as well as you.
Claudius
This is just a fit of madness. The attack will only last for a while. Then, as patient as a female dove sitting on her eggs, he’ll be quiet.
Hamlet
[To Laertes] Listen to me, sir. Why do you abuse me like this? I’ve always liked you. But... never mind. Hercules can do whatever he pleases – but even a cat can mew if he wants, and every dog will have his day.
Claudius
Please, Horatio, see to him.
[Aside to Laertes] Be patient and remember our talk last night. We’ll execute our plan soon. My dear Gertrude, keep an eye on your son. I’ll have a permanent monument placed here, near Ophelia’s grave. [Aside to Laertes] We’ll get rid of this nuisance, but until then we need to be patient.
