Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps in the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick240 and dead, Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
To o'ertop old Pelion242 or the skyish head Of blue Olympus.
Comes forward
HAMLET What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis245? Whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wand'ring stars246, and makes them stand
Removes cloak?
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Leaps into the grave
Hamlet the Dane.
They fight
LAERTES The devil take thy soul!
HAMLET Thou pray'st not well.
I prithee take thy fingers from my throat,
Sir: though I am not splenitive252 and rash, Yet have I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wiseness fear: away thy hand!
KING Pluck them asunder.
GERTRUDE Hamlet, Hamlet!
HORATIO Good my lord, be quiet257.
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 wag259.
GERTRUDE O my son, what theme?
HAMLET I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
Could not -- with all their quantity of love --
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
KING O, he is mad, Laertes.
GERTRUDE For love of God, forbear him265.
HAMLET Come, show me what thou'lt do: