Shakespeare's Hamlet in Plain English

by C.J. B.

  Act 5

  Scene 1

  (the graveyard, in the grounds of the church)

  Enter the Gravedigger and Another

  Gravedigger Is she to have a Christian burial, when she wilfully seeks her own damnation?

  Other I tell you she is, so make her grave at once. The coroner has delivered his verdict and finds that it is to be a Christian burial.

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

  Other It is so found.

  Gravedigger It must be self-defence, it cannot be anything else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself, then I’m carrying out a deliberate act. Therefore, her drowning was the result of her own witting action.

  Other No, but listen.

  Gravedigger Allow me to explain. Here you have the water, and here you have the man, okay. If the man goes into the water and drowns himself, whether or not it is intentional, he is still committing the act. Consider that. But if the water comes to him and drowns him, then he is not drowning himself. Therefore, he is not guilty of causing his own death.

  Other But is this the law?

  Gravedigger It certainly is; coroner’s inquest law.

  Other But have you interpreted it correctly? If this had not been a woman of good social standing, she would not have been given a Christian burial.

  Gravedigger Well, there you have it. More’s the pity that upper class folk should have more right in this world to drown or hang themselves that they be shown greater respect and tolerance than their fellow Christian. Come, hand me my spade. There are no gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers and gravemakers to carry on the ancient profession of Adam (working with the earth as Adam had to after having been cast out of the Garden of Eden: Genesis: 3: 23: So the Lord God drove him out from that garden of delight, to cultivate the ground from which he came).

  He digs

  Other Was he a gentleman?

  Gravedigger He was the first that ever bore arms.

  Other Why, he had none.

  Gravedigger What, are you a heathen? How do you understand the Scripture? The Scripture says Adam dug. Could he dig without arms? I’ll put another question to you. If you cannot give me the answer, you must confess that I have outwitted you.

  Other Proceed.

  Gravedigger What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright or the carpenter?

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

  Gravedigger I truly like your wit, the gallows is a good answer. But how is it good? It is good for those guilty of wrongdoing. Now, you are incorrect in saying the gallows is built stronger than the church (in the sense the church outlives more through the number of funeral services it holds); therefore, the gallows may be good for you. Try again, come on.

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

  Gravedigger Ay, tell me and be done with it.

  Other Yes, I believe I know.

  Gravedigger Well, say it then.

  Other By the Mass, I cannot think of it.

  Gravedigger Rack your brains no more, your dull mind cannot be forced to work beyond its abilities. When next you are asked this question, say ‘a gravemaker’. The houses he makes last until doomsday. Go and fetch me a bottle of liquor.

  Exit Other

 

  The Gravedigger continues digging

  (sings)

  In youth when I did love, did love,

  Methought it was very sweet;

  To contract - o - the time for - a - my behove,

  O methought there - a - was nothing - a - meet.

  (‘o’ and ‘a’ represent the sounds he makes through the effort of digging)

  Enter Hamlet and Horatio

  Hamlet Has this fellow no respect for his business that he sings in grave-making?

  Horatio He’s so accustomed to his work he simply no longer thinks about it.

  Hamlet It is true that the less experienced you are in a task, the more inclined you are to give it thought and concentrate on it.

  Gravedigger (sings)

  But age with his stealing steps

  Hath clawed me in his clutch,

  And has shipped me to the land,

  As if I had never been such.

  He throws up a skull

  Hamlet That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once. How the knave carelessly tosses it to the ground, as though it were the jawbone with which Cain committed the first murder (biblical reference: Genesis: 4: 8: Then Cain said to his brother ‘let us go out together’ and while they were out in the open, Cain turned upon his brother Abel and killed him - evokes the idea of murdering one’s own brother, the basis of the whole play. The crime of Claudius mirrors that of Cain). This might be the pate of a politician over whom this fool is now elevated, one that would seek to cheat even God, might it not?

  Horatio It might, my lord.

  Hamlet Or of a courtier, who could say ‘good morning, my lord. How are you, my lord?’ Might it not?

  Horatio Ay, my lord.

  Hamlet And now they’re jawless and knocked about with a sexton’s spade. Reduced to nothing. Were these bones bred to be worth so little that they should be treated in this way? It seems so dehumanising and degrading.

  Gravedigger (sings)

  A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,

  For and a shrouding-sheet,

  O a pit of clay to be made

  For such a guest is meet.

  Throws up another skull

  Hamlet There’s another. Why, might that not be the skull of a lawyer? Where are his quibbles now, his arguments about what things really mean, his cases, his tenures and his tricks? Why does he suffer this mad knave now, knocking him about the head with a dirty shovel, and can no longer tell him he is liable to legal proceedings for his action of battery? Hmm, this fellow might have been, in his time, a great buyer of land and property, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his identures cut in two, his recoveries; who capitalised on his legal expertise for his own personal gain. Is this the final outcome of his fines and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch no more his purchases? (Hamlet is toying with a variety of legal terms) I will speak to this fellow. Who’s grave is this?

  Gravedigger Mine, sir. (sings)

  O a pit of clay for to be made.

  Hamlet I think it is indeed yours, for you are in it.

  Gravedigger You are out of it, sir, and therefore it is not yours. As for me, I do not lie in it, yet it is mine.

  Hamlet You do not lie in it, yet you say it is yours. It is for the dead, not for the living; therefore you’re lying.

  Gravedigger It is a trivial lie, sir.

  Hamlet What man are you digging it for?

  Gravedigger For no man, sir.

  Hamlet For what woman then?

  Gravedigger For none neither.

  Hamlet Who is to be buried in it?

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

  Hamlet How precise the knave is. We must be exact or equivocation will undo us. These last few years, I’ve noticed how many of the distinctions between the poor and the upper-classes have faded. For how long have you been a grave-maker?

  Gravedigger I started the day our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

  Hamlet How long ago was that?

  Gravedigger Do you not know that? Every fool knows that. It was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that is mad and was sent to England.

  Hamlet Yes. Why was he sent to England?

  Gravedigger Why, because he was mad. He shall recover his wits there. But if he does not, it’s of no great concern there.

  Hamlet Why?

  Gravedigger It will not be noticed in him there. There, the men are as mad as he.

  Hamlet How did he come
to be mad?

  Gravedigger Very strangely, they say.

  Hamlet In what way was it strange?

  Gravedigger Well, he no longer even knew who he was.

  Hamlet Where was he when this happened?

  Gravedigger Why, here in Denmark. I’ve been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years.

  Hamlet How long will a man lie in the earth before he rots?

  Gravedigger Well, if he’s not rotten before he dies; as we have many diseased corpses nowadays that are almost rotten before they’re even buried; he’ll last you some eight or nine year. A tanner (someone who tans animal skins, to produce leather) will last you nine year.

  Hamlet Why he longer than another?

  Gravedigger Why, sir, his own skin has itself become so tanned with his trade that he’ll keep out water a great while, and water is the worse decayer of your dead body. Here’s a skull now which has lay in the earth three and twenty years.

  Hamlet Whose was it?

  Gravedigger A mad fellow it was. Whose do you think it was?

  Hamlet I do not know.

  Gravedigger Damn him, for he was a mad rogue! He poured a bottle of Rhenish wine on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick’s skull, the King’s jester.

  Hamlet This?

  Takes the skull

  Gravedigger The very same.

  Hamlet Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He has borne me on his back a thousand times, and now…..how abhorrent this is. My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how often. Where are your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that would set the court roaring with laughter? Is there is no one now to laugh at your own grinning? Now get to my lady’s chamber and tell her to paint her face with make-up an inch thick. She’ll end up looking like this. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

  Horatio What’s that, my lord?

  Hamlet Do you suppose Alexander the Great looked like this after he had been buried?

  Horatio Most probably.

  Hamlet And smelt so bad?

  Puts down the skull

  Horatio Probably, my lord.

  Hamlet To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Could we not trace the natural course undergone by the ashes of Alexander the Great until we find them merely stopping a bunghole somewhere?

  Horatio That seems very imaginative.

  Hamlet No, not at all, I’m simply looking at the process ensuing his interment in the ground, and contemplating what is likely to have become of him. Alexander died, he was buried, his body returned to dust, the dust is earth, from the earth we get loam to produce bricks and plaster, and is it not then possible that the loam to which he was eventually converted has since been made into a stopper for a beer-barrel? Even the imperious Julius Caesar, dead and long since turned to clay, might at this time be stopping a hole to keep out the draught. Just think; that that earth which was once a figure whose exploits and renown kept the world in awe might now be patching up a wall somewhere to keep out the winter cold. But hold on; let’s remain quiet for a moment. Here comes the King, the Queen, the courtiers.

  Enter Bearers with a coffin, a Priest, King, Queen, Laertes and Lords

  Whose coffin is this they follow? And with so few of the traditional funeral rites being observed? This betokens the fact that the person whose body they follow did in desperation take their own life. It was a person of some wealth and status. We’ll stay out of sight a while and observe.

  Laertes Where is the rest of the ceremony, all of the customary observances of such an occasion?

  Hamlet That’s Laertes, a very noble youth. Watch him.

  Laertes Where is the rest of the ceremony?

  Priest We’ve granted her as many obsequies as we have authorisation to. The precise circumstances of her death are in doubt (it is suspected she committed suicide, which would mean traditional funeral rites being withheld); and unless the King decrees that convention shall not be complied with in this case, she should remain in unsanctified ground until the Earth’s final day. We are to eschew the normal ceremonial prayers at her graveside and simply throw shards, flints and pebbles onto her, though she is allowed a wreath in the church and flowers scattered on her grave as a sign of her chastity, along with the tolling of the church bell to mark her death.

  Laertes Must there be no more than that?

  Priest Nothing more is to be done. We would profane the dead were we to hold a requiem for her and confer upon her the same rites and respect as those who have left this world at peace with God.

  Laertes Lay her in the earth, and from her fair and unpolluted flesh may violets spring. I tell you, churlish priest, my sister shall be an angel in Heaven while you lie damned in Hell.

  Hamlet What, the fair Ophelia!

  Queen (scattering flowers) Sweets to the sweet. Farewell. I had hoped you would be my Hamlet’s wife: I thought I’d be decking your marriage bed with flowers, sweet maid, not scattering them on your grave.

  Laertes May tremendous woe and suffering befall that cursed individual whose wicked deed deprived you of your sanity. Hold off the earth a while, until I have embraced her once more in my arms.

  Leaps into the grave

  Now pile your dirt upon both of us, until you have made this ground into a mountain to overtop Mount Pelion or even the gigantic, towering head of Mount Olympus.

  Hamlet Who are you that your grief be so emphatic and impassioned, that your expression of sorrow be enough to bring the planets to a standstill and make them listen in wonder at your anguish? It is I, Hamlet the Dane.

  Laertes The devil take your soul (grappling with him)!

  Hamlet You do not pray well. I would ask that you take your fingers from my throat, for though I am not irascible and rash, I have in me something dangerous, which you would be wise to fear. Let go of me.

  King Pull them apart.

  Queen Hamlet! Hamlet!

  All Gentlemen!

  Horatio My lord, calm yourself.

  Hamlet Why, I will fight with him over this until I have no more life left in me.

  Queen O, my son, over what?

  Hamlet I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not with all of their love combined make up my sum. What will you do for her?

  King O, he is mad, Laertes.

  Queen For the love of God, let him go.

  Hamlet God’s wounds, show me what you’ll do. Will you weep, will you fight, will you fast? I’ll do it. Do you come here to whine, to outface me with leaping in her grave? Be buried alive with her and so will I. And if you want to prate of mountains, let them throw millions of acres on us, until our ground, its pinnacle scorched in the heat of the sun, thoroughly dwarfs Mount Ossa (stood opposite Mount Olympus in ancient Greece). If you can display such pomposity and come out with this kind of rhetoric, I can rant just as well.

  Queen This is mere madness, the fit will last for a while. Shortly he will recover his composure and acquire a mood of sedateness and patience.

  Hamlet Tell me sir, for what reason do you attack me in this way? I always loved you. But it is no matter. Make these dramatic and grandiose speeches if you must, a person’s nature cannot be suppressed.

  Exit Hamlet

  King I pray you, Horatio, look after him.

  Exit Horatio

  (to Laertes) Strengthen your patience with thought of what we discussed last night. We’ll put our plan into effect right away. Gertrude, be sure to watch over you son. This grave shall have a lasting monument. It will be quiet for the next hour or so. During this time we’ll remain patient.