[Leaps into the grave.[2104]
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made 240
To o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head[2105]
Of blue Olympus.[2106][2107]
Ham. [Advancing] What is he whose grief[2107]
Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow[2108]
Conjures the wandering stars and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,[2109] 245
Hamlet the Dane. [Leaps into the grave.
Laer. The devil take thy soul!
[Grappling with him.[2110]
Ham. Thou pray'st not well.[2111]
I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;[2111]
For, though I am not splenitive and rash,[2112]
Yet have I in me something dangerous,[2113] 250
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand.[2114]
King. Pluck them asunder.
Queen. Hamlet, Hamlet!
All. Gentlemen,—
Hor. Good my lord, be quiet.