I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not have strewed thy grave.
QUEEN
Sweet flowers for a sweet girl. Goodbye!
(she scatters flowers) I once hoped
you'd be my Hamlet's wife. I thought
I'd be tossing flowers on your wedding bed, my sweet
girl, not on your grave.
LAERTES
Oh, treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursèd head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
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Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
LAERTES
Oh, damn three times, damn ten times the evil man whose wicked
deed deprived you of your ingenious mind. Hold off burying her until
I've caught her in my arms once more.
(leaps into the grave)
(he jumps into 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
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Of blue Olympus.
Now pile the dirt onto the living and the dead alike, till
you've made a mountain higher than Mount Pelion or Mount Olympus.*
HAMLET
(comes forward) What is
he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
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Hamlet the Dane.
(leaps into the
grave)
HAMLET
(coming forward) Who is the one
whose grief is so loud and clear, whose words of sadness make the
planets stand still in the heavens as if they've been
hurt by what they've heard? It's me, Hamlet
the Dane.
(he jumps into the
grave)
LAERTES
The devil take thy soul!
LAERTES
To hell with your soul!
HAMLET and LAERTES
grapple
HAMLET and LAERTES
wrestle with each other.
HAMLET
Thou pray'st not well.
I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat,
For though I am not splenitive and rash,
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Yet have I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand.
HAMLET
That's no way to pray.
(they
fight)
Please take your hands off my throat. I may not be rash and quick to
anger, but I have something dangerous in me which you should beware
of. Take your hands off.
