Hamlet — Act 5, Scene 1

original text and modern English, side by side

A churchyard · First Clown, Second Clown, Hamlet, Horatio, Laertes, Priest, Queen, King

Two gravediggers joke about whether Ophelia, a probable suicide, deserves a Christian burial, while Hamlet and Horatio look on. Hamlet is handed the skull of Yorick, the jester he loved as a child, and reflects that death reduces everyone — even Alexander the Great — to the same dust. Ophelia's funeral procession arrives, and when Laertes leaps into her grave, Hamlet reveals himself and the two men grapple, each insisting he loved her more.

Enter two Clowns with spades, &c.

First Clown

Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she wilfully seeks her

own salvation?

Is she supposed to get a Christian burial, when she deliberately went looking for salvation ahead of schedule?

Second Clown

I tell thee she is, and therefore make her grave straight.

I'm telling you she is, so dig her grave and be quick about it.

The crowner

hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.

The coroner held an inquest on her and ruled it a Christian burial.

First Clown

How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence?

How can that be, unless she drowned herself in self-defence?

Second Clown

Why, ’tis found so.

Well, that's what was ruled.

First Clown

It must be _se offendendo_, it cannot be else.

It has to have been self-offence, it can't be anything else.

For here lies the point:

if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act: and an act hath three

branches.

Here's the crux of it: if I drown myself on purpose, that constitutes an act, and an act has three branches —

It is to act, to do, and to perform:

namely to act, to do, and to perform.

argal, she drowned

herself wittingly.

Therefore, she drowned herself on purpose.

Second Clown

Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,—

Now hold on there, mister digger —

First Clown

Give me leave.

Let me finish.

Here lies the water; good.

Here lies the water — good.

Here stands the man; good.

Here stands the man — good.

the man go to this water and drown himself, it is, will he nill he, he

goes,—mark you that.

If the man goes to the water and drowns himself, then like it or not, he's the one who went. Note that.

But if the water come to him and drown him, he

drowns not himself.

But if the water comes to him and drowns him, then he hasn't drowned himself.

Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death

shortens not his own life.

Therefore, the man who isn't guilty of his own death hasn't shortened his own life.

Second Clown

But is this law?

But is that actually the law?

First Clown

Ay, marry, is’t, crowner’s quest law.

It certainly is — coroner's inquest law.

Second Clown

Will you ha’ the truth on’t?

You want the truth of it?

If this had not been a gentlewoman, she

should have been buried out o’ Christian burial.

If she hadn't been a lady of good family, she'd have been buried outside consecrated ground.

First Clown

Why, there thou say’st.

There, now you've said it.

And the more pity that great folk should have

countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their

even Christian.

And it's all the more of a shame that important people should have more licence in this world to drown or hang themselves than their fellow Christians do.

Come, my spade.

Hand me my spade.

There is no ancient gentlemen but

gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:

There are no gentlemen older than gardeners, ditch-diggers and gravediggers —

they hold up Adam’s profession.

they carry on Adam's line of work.

Second Clown

Was he a gentleman?

Was Adam a gentleman?

First Clown

He was the first that ever bore arms.

He was the first man ever to bear arms.

Second Clown

Why, he had none.

No he wasn't, he didn't have any.

First Clown

What, art a heathen?

What, are you a heathen?

How dost thou understand the Scripture?

Don't you know your Bible?

The

Scripture says Adam digg’d.

Scripture says Adam dug.

Could he dig without arms?

Could he have dug without arms?

I’ll put another

question to thee.

Let me put another question to you.

If thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess

thyself—

If you don't answer it properly, confess yourself —

Second Clown

Go to.

Get on with it.

First Clown

What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright,

or the carpenter?

Who builds stronger than the stonemason, the shipbuilder or the carpenter?

Second Clown

The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.

The gallows-builder, because that frame outlasts a thousand tenants.

First Clown

I like thy wit well in good faith, the gallows does well.

I like your wit, honestly, that's a good one. The gallows does well.

But how does

it well?

But how does it do well?

It does well to those that do ill.

It does well by those who do badly.

Now, thou dost ill to say

the gallows is built stronger than the church;

Now, you're doing badly to say the gallows is built stronger than the church —

argal, the gallows may

do well to thee.

so the gallows may end up doing well by you.

To’t again, come.

Have another go.

Second Clown

Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?

Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright or a carpenter?

First Clown

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

That's it. Answer that and you can knock off for the day.

Second Clown

Marry, now I can tell.

By God, I've got it now.

First Clown

To’t.

Go on then.

Second Clown

Mass, I cannot tell.

No — I can't tell.

Enter Hamlet and Horatio, at a distance.

First Clown

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his

pace with beating;

Then stop hammering your brains about it, since a slow donkey won't speed up for a beating.

and when you are asked this question next, say ‘a

grave-maker’.

And next time somebody asks you that question, say 'a gravedigger' —

The houses he makes last till doomsday.

the houses he builds last till Judgement Day.

Go, get thee to

Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of liquor.

Now go on to Yaughan's and fetch me a jug of drink.

Exit Second Clown.

Digs and sings.

First Clown

In youth when I did love, did love,

Methought it was very sweet;

When I was young and in love, in love, I thought it was very sweet —

To contract, O, the time for, a, my behove,

O methought there was nothing meet.

to shorten, oh, the time, ah, for my own good, oh, I thought there was nothing better.

Hamlet

Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at

grave-making?

Has this fellow no sense of what he's doing, singing while he digs a grave?

Horatio

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Habit has made it easy work for him.

Hamlet

’Tis e’en so;

That's true enough.

the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

It's the hand that does the least work that has the most delicate feelings.

Sings.

First Clown

But age with his stealing steps

Hath claw’d me in his clutch,

But old age with its sneaking steps has got its claws into me,

And hath shipp’d me into the land,

As if I had never been such.

and shipped me off into the ground, as if I'd never been young at all.

Throws up a skull.

Hamlet

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once.

That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once.

How the knave jowls

it to th’ ground, as if ’twere Cain’s jawbone, that did the first

murder!

Look how the rascal slams it into the ground, as if it were the jawbone Cain used for the first murder.

This might be the pate of a politician which this ass now

o’er-offices, one that would circumvent God, might it not?

This might be the head of a politician that this donkey is now ordering around — someone who'd have out-manoeuvred God himself, don't you think?

Horatio

It might, my lord.

Hamlet

Or of a courtier, which could say ‘Good morrow, sweet lord! How dost

thou, good lord?’

Or a courtier's, who could say 'Good morning, sweet lord! How are you, 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?

This might be Lord So-and-so, who complimented Lord Such-and-such's horse when he was angling to be given it. Couldn't it?

Horatio

Ay, my lord.

Yes, my lord.

Hamlet

Why, e’en so: and now my Lady Worm’s; chapless, and knocked about the

mazard with a sexton’s spade.

Exactly so — and now it belongs to my Lady Worm, jawless, and knocked about the head with a gravedigger's spade.

Here’s fine revolution, an we had the

trick to see’t.

That's a fine reversal of fortune, if we had the knack of seeing it.

Did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play

at loggets with ’em?

Did it cost so little to raise these bones that they're only good for a game of skittles?

Mine ache to think on’t.

Mine ache thinking about it.

Sings.

First Clown

A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,

For and a shrouding-sheet;

A pickaxe and a spade, a spade, and a winding sheet as well —

O, a pit of clay for to be made

For such a guest is meet.

oh, a pit of clay is the right thing to make for a guest like this.

Throws up another skull.

Hamlet

There’s another.

There's another.

Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?

Why couldn't that be a lawyer's skull?

Where be

his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks?

Where are his fine distinctions now, his quibbles, his cases, his land titles, 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?

Why does he let this rude fellow knock him about the head with a filthy shovel, and not sue him for assault?

Hum.

Hm.

This fellow might be in’s time a great buyer of land, with his

statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his

recoveries.

This man in his day might have been a great buyer of property, with all his contracts, his bonds, his settlements, his double guarantees, his recoveries.

Is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his

recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt?

Is this the end result of all his settlements and the recovery of all his recoveries — to have his fine head 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?

Will all his guarantors, doubled up as they were, guarantee him no more of his purchases than the length and width of a pair of legal documents?

The very conveyances of his

lands will scarcely lie in this box;

The deeds to his land would barely fit in this box of a skull —

and must the inheritor himself

have no more, ha?

and the owner himself gets no more than that? Really?

Horatio

Not a jot more, my lord.

Not an inch more, my lord.

Hamlet

Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?

Isn't parchment made from sheepskin?

Horatio

Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

Yes, my lord, and calfskin too.

Hamlet

They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that.

Then they're sheep and calves who look for security in it.

I will

speak to this fellow.—

I'll speak to this fellow.

Whose grave’s this, sir?

— Whose grave is this, sir?

First Clown

Mine, sir.

Sings.

First Clown

O, a pit of clay for to be made

For such a guest is meet.

Oh, a pit of clay is the right thing to make for a guest like this.

Hamlet

I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in’t.

I suppose it is yours, since you're lying in it.

First Clown

You lie out on’t, sir, and therefore ’tis not yours.

And you're lying outside it, sir, so it isn't yours.

For my part, I do not lie in’t, yet it is mine.

As for me, I'm not lying in it, and yet it is mine.

Hamlet

Thou dost lie in’t, to be in’t and say it is thine.

You're lying in it, all right — you're in it and you say it's yours.

’Tis for the dead,

not for the quick;

It's for the dead, not the living,

therefore thou liest.

so you're lying.

First Clown

’Tis a quick lie, sir; ’t will away again from me to you.

It's a lively lie, sir; it'll jump straight back from me to you.

Hamlet

What man dost thou dig it for?

What man are you digging it for?

First Clown

For no man, sir.

No man, sir.

Hamlet

What woman then?

What woman, then?

First Clown

For none neither.

No woman either.

Hamlet

Who is to be buried in’t?

Who's going to be buried in it?

First Clown

One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she’s dead.

Someone who was a woman, sir — but God rest her, she's dead.

Hamlet

How absolute the knave is!

How precise the fellow is!

We must speak by the card, or equivocation

will undo us.

We'll have to speak by the book, or word-splitting will be the end of us.

By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note

of it, the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so

near the heel of the courtier he galls his kibe.—

By God, Horatio, I've noticed this over the last three years: the age has grown so sharp that the peasant's toe treads on the courtier's heel and rubs his chilblain raw.

How long hast thou

been a grave-maker?

— How long have you been a gravedigger?

First Clown

Of all the days i’ th’ year, I came to’t that day that our last King

Hamlet o’ercame Fortinbras.

Of all the days in the year, I started on the very day our late King Hamlet beat Fortinbras.

Hamlet

How long is that since?

And how long ago was that?

First Clown

Cannot you tell that?

You don't know that?

Every fool can tell that.

Every idiot knows that.

It was the very day

that young Hamlet was born,—he that is mad, and sent into England.

It was the very day young Hamlet was born — the one who went mad and was shipped off to England.

Hamlet

Ay, marry,

Yes, of course.

why was he sent into England?

And why was he sent to England?

First Clown

Why, because he was mad;

Why, because he was mad.

he shall recover his wits there;

He'll get his wits back there —

or if he do

not, it’s no great matter there.

and if he doesn't, it hardly matters there.

Hamlet

Why?

Why not?

First Clown

’Twill not be seen in him there;

Nobody will notice it in him there.

there the men are as mad as he.

The men there are all as mad as he is.

Hamlet

How came he mad?

How did he go mad?

First Clown

Very strangely, they say.

Hamlet

How strangely?

Strangely how?

First Clown

Faith, e’en with losing his wits.

Well — by losing his mind.

Hamlet

Upon what ground?

On what grounds?

First Clown

Why, here in Denmark.

I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty

years.

I've been sexton here, boy and man, for thirty years.

Hamlet

How long will a man lie i’ th’earth ere he rot?

How long does a man lie in the ground before he rots?

First Clown

Faith, if he be not rotten before he die,—as we have many pocky corses

nowadays that will scarce hold the laying in,—he will last you some

eight year or nine year.

Well, if he isn't rotten before he dies — and we get plenty of pox-ridden corpses these days that barely hold together long enough to be laid in — he'll last you eight or nine years.

A tanner will last you nine year.

A tanner will last you nine.

Hamlet

Why he more than another?

Why him longer than anyone else?

First Clown

Why, sir, his hide is so tann’d with his trade that he will keep out

water a great while.

Because, sir, his hide is so tanned by his trade that it keeps the water out for a good long while —

And your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson

dead body.

and water is a terrible destroyer of your damned dead body.

Here’s a skull now;

Here's a skull now.

this skull hath lain in the earth

three-and-twenty years.

This one has been in the earth twenty-three years.

Hamlet

Whose was it?

First Clown

A whoreson, mad fellow’s it was.

A crazy devil of a fellow's, it was.

Whose do you think it was?

Who do you think it was?

Hamlet

Nay, I know not.

No, I don't know.

First Clown

A pestilence on him for a mad rogue!

Plague take him for a mad rogue —

A pour’d a flagon of Rhenish on my

head once.

he poured a whole jug of Rhine wine over my head once.

This same skull, sir, was Yorick’s skull, the King’s jester.

This skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the King's jester.

Hamlet

This?

This one?

First Clown

E’en that.

That very one.

Hamlet

Let me see. [_Takes the skull._]

Let me look. [Takes the skull]

Alas, poor Yorick.

Oh, poor Yorick.

I knew him,

Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.

I knew him, Horatio — a man of endless jokes and wonderful imagination.

He hath

borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my

imagination it is!

He carried me on his back a thousand times, and now — how sickening the thought of it is.

My gorge rises at it.

It turns my stomach.

Here hung those lips that I

have kiss’d I know not how oft.

Here hung the lips that I kissed I don't know how many times.

Where be your gibes now?

Where are your jokes now?

your gambols?

Your leaping about?

your songs?

Your songs?

your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table

on a roar?

Those flashes of humour that used to send the whole table into an uproar?

Not one now, to mock your own grinning?

Nothing left, not even one joke to laugh at your own grinning face?

Quite chop-fallen?

Jaw dropped off entirely?

Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch

thick, to this favour she must come.

Now go to my lady's dressing room and tell her that she can put her makeup on an inch thick and she'll still end up with this face.

Make her laugh at that.—

Get a laugh out of her with that.

Prithee,

Horatio, tell me one thing.

— Please, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Horatio

What’s that, my lord?

What's that, my lord?

Hamlet

Dost thou think Alexander looked o’ this fashion i’ th’earth?

Do you think Alexander the Great looked like this in the ground?

Horatio

E’en so.

Just like that.

Hamlet

And smelt so?

And smelled like this?

Pah!

Ugh.

Throws down the skull.

Horatio

E’en so, my lord.

Just like that, my lord.

Hamlet

To what base uses we may return, Horatio!

What low uses we may come back to, Horatio!

Why may not imagination trace

the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bung-hole?

Why couldn't the imagination follow the noble dust of Alexander until it turns up plugging the hole of a barrel?

Horatio

’Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.

That would be examining it far too closely.

Hamlet

No, faith, not a jot.

No, honestly, not in the least.

But to follow him thither with modesty enough,

and likelihood to lead it; as thus.

You just follow him there with some restraint and let probability lead you. Like this:

Alexander died, Alexander was

buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we

make loam;

Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander turned back into dust; dust is earth; from earth we make clay;

and why of that loam whereto he was converted might they not

stop a beer-barrel?

and why couldn't the clay he turned into be used to stopper a beer barrel?

Imperious Caesar, dead and turn’d to clay,

Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.

Mighty Caesar, dead and turned to clay, might plug a hole to keep the wind away.

O, that that earth which kept the world in awe

Should patch a wall t’expel the winter’s flaw.

Oh, that the same earth which once terrified the world should patch a wall to keep out a winter draught.

But soft! but soft! aside!

But quiet, quiet — step aside.

Here comes the King.

Enter priests, &c, in procession; the corpse of Ophelia, Laertes and Mourners following; King, Queen, their Trains, &c.

Hamlet

The Queen, the courtiers.

Who is that they follow?

Who is it they're following?

And with such maimed rites?

And with such a cut-down ceremony?

This doth betoken

The corse they follow did with desperate hand

Fordo it own life.

That suggests the body they're following took its own life in despair.

’Twas of some estate.

It was someone of rank.

Couch we awhile and mark.

Let's crouch here for a moment and watch.

Retiring with Horatio.

Laertes

What ceremony else?

What other rites are there?

Hamlet

That is Laertes, a very noble youth.

That's Laertes, a very fine young man.

Mark.

Listen.

Laertes

What ceremony else?

What other rites are there?

Priest

Her obsequies have been as far enlarg’d

As we have warranties.

Her funeral has been extended as far as we're permitted.

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.

Her death was suspicious, and if orders from high up hadn't overruled the normal procedure, she'd have been left in unconsecrated ground until Judgement Day.

For charitable prayers,

Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.

Instead of prayers, she'd have had broken pottery, flints and stones thrown down on her.

Yet here she is allowed her virgin rites,

Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home

Of bell and burial.

And yet here she's allowed the rites of a virgin, the flowers strewn for a maiden, and the bell and burial that bring her home.

Laertes

Must there no more be done?

Can nothing more be done?

Priest

No more be done.

Nothing more.

We should profane the service of the dead

To sing sage requiem and such rest to her

As to peace-parted souls.

We'd be defiling the burial service to sing a solemn requiem over her and pray for the rest granted to those who died at peace with God.

Laertes

Lay her i’ th’earth,

And from her fair and unpolluted flesh

May violets spring.

Put her in the ground, and let violets grow out of her lovely, unstained body.

I tell thee, churlish priest,

A minist’ring angel shall my sister be

When thou liest howling.

I tell you, you heartless priest, my sister will be an angel in heaven while you lie howling in hell.

Hamlet

What, the fair Ophelia?

What — the lovely Ophelia?

Scattering flowers.

Queen

Sweets to the sweet.

[Scattering flowers] Sweet things for the sweet girl.

Farewell.

Goodbye.

I hop’d thou shouldst have been my Hamlet’s wife;

I hoped you would have been my Hamlet's wife.

I thought thy bride-bed to have deck’d, sweet maid,

And not have strew’d thy grave.

I expected to be decorating your wedding bed, sweet girl, not scattering flowers on your grave.

Laertes

O, treble woe

Fall ten times treble on that cursed head

Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense

Depriv’d thee of.

Oh, let a triple sorrow, ten times tripled, fall on the cursed head whose wicked act robbed you of your brilliant mind.

Hold off the earth a while,

Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.

— Hold off the earth a moment, until I've held her in my arms one more time.

Leaps into the grave.

Laertes

Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,

Till of this flat a mountain you have made,

To o’ertop old Pelion or the skyish head

Of blue Olympus.

Now heap your dirt on the living and the dead together, until you've piled this flat ground into a mountain higher than old Pelion or the sky-touching summit of blue Olympus.

Advancing.

Hamlet

What is he whose grief

Bears such an emphasis?

Who is this whose grief is so loud?

whose phrase of sorrow

Conjures the wand’ring stars, and makes them stand

Like wonder-wounded hearers?

Whose cries of sorrow summon the wandering planets and stop them dead like an audience stunned by a marvel?

This is I,

Hamlet the Dane.

This is I, Hamlet, King of Denmark.

Leaps into the grave.

Grappling with him.

Laertes

The devil take thy soul!

[Grappling with him] The devil take your soul!

Hamlet

Thou pray’st not well.

That's a poor sort of prayer.

I prithee take thy fingers from my throat;

Please take your fingers off my throat.

For though I am not splenative and rash,

Yet have I in me something dangerous,

Which let thy wiseness fear.

I'm not hot-tempered or reckless, but there's something dangerous in me that your good sense should be afraid of.

Away thy hand!

Get your hand away.

King

Pluck them asunder.

Pull them apart.

Queen

Hamlet! Hamlet!

All.

Gentlemen!

— ALL: Gentlemen!

Horatio

Good my lord, be quiet.

My good lord, be calm.

The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave.

Hamlet

Why, I will fight with him upon this theme

Until my eyelids will no longer wag.

I'll fight him over this subject until my eyes close for the last time.

Queen

O my son, what theme?

Oh, my son, what subject?

Hamlet

I lov’d Ophelia;

I loved Ophelia.

forty thousand brothers

Could not, with all their quantity of love,

Make up my sum.

Forty thousand brothers with all their love added together couldn't equal my total.

What wilt thou do for her?

— What will you do for her?

King

O, he is mad, Laertes.

He's mad, Laertes.

Queen

For love of God forbear him!

For the love of God, be patient with him.

Hamlet

’Swounds, show me what thou’lt do:

God's wounds, show me what you'll do.

Woul’t weep?

Will you weep?

woul’t fight?

Fight?

woul’t fast?

Starve yourself?

woul’t tear thyself?

Tear yourself apart?

Woul’t drink up eisel?

Drink vinegar?

eat a crocodile?

Eat a crocodile?

I’ll do’t.

I'll do it too.

Dost thou come here to whine?

Have you come here to wail?

To outface me with leaping in her grave?

To upstage me by jumping into her grave?

Be buried quick with her, and so will I.

Be buried alive 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.

And if you're going to talk about mountains, let them shovel millions of acres over us, until our burial mound scorches its head against the sun's fiery zone and makes Mount Ossa look like a pimple.

Nay, an thou’lt mouth,

I’ll rant as well as thou.

If you're going to rant, I can rant just as well as you.

Queen

This is mere madness:

This is nothing but madness.

And thus awhile 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.

The fit will work on him a while, and then, as patient as a mother dove when her pair of golden chicks has hatched, he'll fall silent and sit drooping.

Hamlet

Hear you, sir;

Listen, sir.

What is the reason that you use me thus?

Why do you treat me like this?

I lov’d you ever.

I always liked you.

But it is no matter.

But it doesn't matter.

Let Hercules himself do what he may,

The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.

Let Hercules himself do whatever he can — the cat will still meow and the dog will still have his day.

Exit.

King

I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.

Please, good Horatio, keep an eye on him.

Exit Horatio.

To Laertes

King

Strengthen your patience in our last night’s speech;

Hold on to the patience I asked of you in our talk last night;

We’ll put the matter to the present push.—

we'll bring the matter to a head immediately.

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.

— Good Gertrude, set someone to watch your son.

This grave shall have a living monument.

This grave will have a living monument.

An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;

We'll see a quiet hour before long;

Till then in patience our proceeding be.

until then, let's proceed patiently.

Exeunt.

Hamlet Act 5, Scene 1 summary

Who appears in this scene

First Clown, Second Clown, Hamlet, Horatio, Laertes, Priest, Queen, King — A churchyard.

Famous lines in Hamlet Act 5, Scene 1, explained

“Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, / Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.” (line 148): Holding the skull of the jester who carried him on his back as a child, Hamlet meets death as something personal rather than philosophical for the first time in the play. The horror is physical — his stomach turns at the lips he once kissed — and it strips away the abstraction of the earlier soliloquies. The line is almost always misquoted as 'Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him well', and the skull has become the single most recognisable image in all of theatre.
“Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch / thick, to this favour she must come.” (line 155): Hamlet tells the skull to visit a fashionable woman's dressing room and inform her that however thickly she applies her makeup, she will end up looking exactly like this. It belongs to a long tradition of images reminding people that death cancels beauty and status alike. Coming from Hamlet, it also carries his ongoing disgust at women's 'painting', the same accusation he threw at Ophelia — whose corpse is about to be carried in.
“To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace / the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bung-hole?” (line 163): Hamlet follows a chain of logic from the world's greatest conqueror to the clay plug in a beer barrel: Alexander died, decayed, became earth, and earth becomes the clay we make things from. It is the levelling argument of the whole graveyard scene — no achievement survives the body's chemistry. Horatio calls this thinking too curiously, and the fact that Hamlet does it anyway is the point: he cannot stop following a thought to its end.
“This is I, / Hamlet the Dane.” (line 220): Hamlet steps out of hiding and names himself with a royal title — 'the Dane' means the King of Denmark, not merely a Danish man. After four acts of disguise, evasion and pretended madness, he claims his identity out loud for the first time, and he does it standing at Ophelia's grave. From this point on he stops manoeuvring and moves straight toward the duel that kills him.
“I lov’d Ophelia; forty thousand brothers / Could not, with all their quantity of love, / Make up my sum.” (line 236): Grappling with Laertes in the grave, Hamlet insists his love outweighed forty thousand brothers' put together. It is the only unambiguous statement of his feelings for her in the play, and it comes far too late to do her any good — the last time he spoke to her he told her to get to a nunnery. Whether the outburst is genuine grief, competitive rage at being upstaged by Laertes's theatrics, or both at once is one of the play's most argued questions.

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About this translation: the original text follows the public-domain Project Gutenberg Globe edition; the modern English translation was written in-house for Polytranslator and is reviewed on an ongoing basis (last revised August 2026). Free to print and photocopy for classroom use. Cite as: “Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 1. Polytranslator side-by-side translation, polytranslator.com/shakespeare/hamlet/act-5-scene-1.”

Studying the language itself? Our Shakespearean English course teaches thou/thee, the verbs, and the meter — free through Unit 2. Or try the Shakespearean English translator.