Peanuts's Quiz Cornner V2!

Right book... wrong quote... keep trying!

 

give us a picture bro

 

And for a bonus 25 creds, anme the act and scene it is from!

 

*Second Clown*

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

*First Clown*

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

*Second Clown*

Marry, now I can tell.

*First Clown*

To't.

*Second Clown*

Mass, I cannot tell.

/Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance/


ACT V Scene 1 of Hamlet

 

I want a picture

 

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

Hamlet; Shakespeare.

___________________________

*Second Clown*

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

*First Clown*

Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

*Second Clown*

Marry, now I can tell.

*First Clown*

To't.

*Second Clown*

Mass, I cannot tell.

/Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance/


ACT V Scene 1 of Hamlet; Shakespeare.


- Squall.

 

close!!! But not yet!!! Keep guessing!

 

Or is this one ?
Hamlet, IV, v

FIRST CLOWN: What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

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

Eh squal don't copy me loool

 

nope... lol. You all are so close!!!!

 

I posted that one like 3 pages back. -.-



Act V, Scene i:
Summary: Act V, Scene i


Elsinore. A churchyard.

Enter two Clowns, with spades and pickaxes.

Clown: Is she to be buried in Christian burial when she wilfully seeks her
own salvation?
Other: I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight.
The crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.
Clown: How can that be, unless she drown'd herself in her own defence?
Other: Why, 'tis found so.
Clown: It must be se offendendo; it cannot be else. For here lies the point: if I
drown myself wittingly, it argues an act; and an act hath three branches-it is to
act, to do, and to perform; argal, she drown'd herself wittingly.
Other: Nay, but hear you, Goodman Delver!
Clown: Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the man; good.
If the man go to this water and drown himself, it is, will he nill he, he goes-
mark you that. But if the water come to him and drown him, he drowns not
himself. Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
Other: But is this law?
Clown: Ay, marry, is't- crowner's quest law.
Other: Will you ha' the truth an't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she
should have been buried out o' Christian burial.
Clown: Why, there thou say'st! And the more pity that great folk should have
count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their
even Christian. Come, my spade! There is no ancient gentlemen but gard'ners,
ditchers, and grave-makers. They hold up Adam's profession.
Other: Was he a gentleman?
Clown: 'A was the first that ever bore arms.
Other: Why, he had none.
Clown: What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the Scripture?
The Scripture says Adam digg'd. Could he dig without arms? I'll put another
question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself-
Other: Go to!
Clown: 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.
Clown: I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows does well. But how does
it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the gallows
is built stronger than the church. Argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't
again, come!
Other: Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?
Clown: Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
Other: Marry, now I can tell!
Clown: To't.
Other: Mass, I cannot tell.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio afar off.
Clown: Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his
pace with beating; and when you are ask'd this question next, say 'a grave-maker.'
The houses he makes lasts till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch
me a stoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown.
Clown digs and, 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.
Hamlet: Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at grave-making?
Horatio: Custom hath made it in him a Property of easiness.
Hamlet: 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
Clown: Sings.
But age with his stealing steps
Hath clawed me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me intil the land,
As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull.
Hamlet: That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the knave
jowls it to the ground,as if 'twere Cain's jawbone, that did the first murther!
This might be the pate of a Politician, which this ass now o'erreaches; one
that would circumvent God, might it not?
Horatio: It might, my lord.
Hamlet: Or of a courtier, which could say 'Good morrow, sweet lord! How dost
thou, good lord?' This might be my Lord Such-a-one, that prais'd my Lord
Such-a-one's horse when he meant to beg it- might it not?
Horatio: Ay, my lord.
Hamlet: Why, e'en so! and now my Lady Worm's, chapless, and knock'd
about the mazzard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution, and we had
the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play at loggets with 'em? Mine ache to think on't.
Clown: Sings.
A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,
For and a shrouding sheet;
O, a Pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull.
Hamlet: There's another: Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where
be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and 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? Hum! This fellow
might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances,
his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines, and
the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate 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? The very conveyances of his
lands will scarcely lie in this box; and must th' inheritor himself have no more, ha?
Horatio: Not a jot more, my lord.
Hamlet: Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
Horatio: Ay, my lord, And of calveskins too.
Hamlet: They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will
speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah?
Clown: Mine, sir.
Sings. O, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
Hamlet: I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in't.
Clown: You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours. For my part, I do not
lie in't, yet it is mine.
Hamlet: Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine. 'Tis for the dead, not
for the quick; therefore thou liest.
Clown: 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again from me to you.
Hamlet: What man dost thou dig it for?
Clown: For no man, sir.
Hamlet: What woman then?
Clown: For none neither
Hamlet: Who is to be buried in't?
Clown: One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.
Hamlet: How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or
equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, this 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.- How long hast thou
been a grave-maker?
Clown: Of all the days i' th' year, I came to't that day that our last king
Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. Hamlet: How long is that since?
Clown: Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the very day
that young Hamlet was born- he that is mad, and sent into England.
Hamlet: Ay, marry, why was be sent into England?
Clown: Why, because 'a was mad. 'A shall recover his wits there; or, if 'a do
not, 'tis no great matter there. Hamlet: Why?
Clown: 'Twill not he seen in him there. There the men are as mad as he.
Hamlet: How came he mad?
Clown: Very strangely, they say.
Hamlet: How strangely?
Clown: Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
Hamlet: Upon what ground?
Clown: Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy
thirty years.
Hamlet: How long will a man lie i' th' earth ere he rot?
Clown: Faith, if 'a be not rotten before 'a die, as we have many pocky corses
now-a-days that will scarce hold the laying in, I will last you some eight year
or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year.
Hamlet: Why he more than another?
Clown: Why, sir, his hide is so tann'd with his trade that 'a will keep out
water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson
dead body. Here's a skull now. This skull hath lien you i' th' earth
three-and-twenty years.
Hamlet: Whose was it?
Clown: A whoreson, mad fellow's it was. Whose do you think it was?
Hamlet: Nay, I know not.
Clown: A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! 'A pour'd a flagon of Rhenish
on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the King's jester.
Hamlet: This?
Clown: E'en that.
Hamlet: Let me see. Takes the skull. Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him,
Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me
on his back a thousand tunes. And now how abhorred in my imagination
it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kiss'd I know not
how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your
flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chap- fall'n? Now get you to my
lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she
must come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
Horatio: What's that, my lord?
Hamlet: Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i' th' earth?
Horatio: E'en so.
Hamlet: And smelt so? Pah!
Puts down the skull.
Horatio: E'en so, my lord.
Hamlet: To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination
trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bunghole?
Horatio: 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
Hamlet: No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough,
and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam;
and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a
beer barrel?


Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop 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!
But soft! but soft! aside! Here comes the King-
Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and a coffin with Lords attendant and Priest
The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow?
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
The corse they follow did with desp'rate hand
Fordo it own life. 'Twas of some estate.
Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retires with Horatio.
Laertes: What ceremony else?
Hamlet: That is Laertes:,
A very noble youth. Mark.
Laertes: What ceremony else?
Priest: Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
As we have warranty. 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. For charitable prayers,
Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.
Laertes: Must there no more be done?
Priest: No more be done.
We should profane the service of the dead
To sing a requiem and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
Laertes: Lay her i' th' earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
A minist'ring angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.
Hamlet: What, the fair Ophelia?
Queen: Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.
Scatters flowers.
I hop'd thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not have strew'd thy grave.
Laertes: O, treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
Depriv'd thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
Leaps in 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
Of blue Olympus.
Hamlet: Comes forward. What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane. Leaps in after Laertes.
Laertes: The devil take thy soul!
Grapples with him.
Hamlet: Thou pray'st not well.
I prithee take thy fingers from my throat;
For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand!
King: Pluck thein asunder.
Queen: Hamlet, Hamlet!
All: Gentlemen!
Horatio: Good my lord, be quiet.
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.
Queen: O my son, what theme?
Hamlet: I lov'd 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.
Queen: For love of God, forbear him!
Hamlet: 'Swounds, show me what thou't do.
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
Woo't drink up esill? eat a crocodile?
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick 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! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
Queen: This is mere madness;
And thus a while 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.
Hamlet: Hear you, sir!
What is the reason that you use me thus?
I lov'd you ever. But it is no matter.
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
Exit.
King: I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit Horatio.
To Laertes. Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech.
We'll put the matter to the present push.-
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.-
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then in patience our proceeding be.

Exeunt.


- Squall.

 

Ok, we have stablished that what you have is in fact the right scene and act, but I need the specific phrase. It's really not all that hard to find...

 

Google cheaterzzz

 

Clown: Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

_______________________________________

Clown: 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.
Clown: I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows does well. But how does
it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the gallows
is built stronger than the church. Argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't
again, come!
Other: Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?
Clown: Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
Other: Marry, now I can tell!
Clown: To't.


I think we should move on to the next soon.


- Squall.

 

Alright, noone got this one either... All you had to do was read a couple lines down. I knew that people were going to Google this one as well, so I wanted to see who actually understood Hamlet. Let me break it down for you...

First Clo. I like thy wit well, in good faith; the gallows does well, but how does it well? it does well to those that do ill; now thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church: argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To ’t again; come.

This means, that while the gallows are good for criminals, that was not the answer he was looking for, try again. The correct answer can be found when Hamlet and Horatio enter. Then the response is as such:

First Clo. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when you are asked this question next, say, ‘a grave-maker:’ the houses that he makes last till doomsday.

Merged Post:

Last one for the day... this one is worth 50 creds!

Andy dislikes the catcher. Ed's sister is engaged to the second baseman. The center fielder is taller than the right fielder. Harry and the third baseman live in the same building. Paul and Allen each won $20 from the pitcher at pinochle. Ed and the outfielders play poker during their free time. The pitcher's wife is the third baseman's sister. The pitcher, catcher, and infielders except Allen, Harry, and Andy, are shorter than Sam. Paul, Andy, and the shortstop lost $50 each at the racetrack. Paul, Harry, Bill, and the catcher took a trouncing from the second baseman at pool. Sam is involved in a divorce suit. The catcher and the third baseman each have two children. Ed, Paul, Jerry, the right fielder, and the center fielder are bachelors. The others are married. The shortstop, the third baseman, and Bill each cleaned up $100 betting on the fight. One of the outfielders is either Mike or Andy. Jerry is taller than Bill. Mike is shorter than Bill. Each of them is heavier than the third baseman.

Using these facts, determine the names of the men playing the various positions on the baseball team.

 

Ah lol i didn't try to ready , nice, next one pleaze
Sure i used google, how many people here have read this book :s 1 or 2 maybe ^^