ophelia

There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds 
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; 
When down the weedy trophies and herself 
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; 
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: 
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; 
As one incapable of her own distress, 
Or like a creature native and indued 
Unto that element: but long it could not be 
Till that her garments, heavy with her drink, 
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious buy 
To muddy death.

Gertude's description of Ophelia's death in Hamlet

​Fran