As infinite as man may undergo,)

Shall, in the general censure, take corruption
From that particular fault: The dram of base
Doth all the noble substance often dout,1

To his own scandal.

Hor.

Enter Ghost.

Look, my lord, it comes!

Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!→→ Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a questionable2 shape,
That I will speak to thee; I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me:
Let me not burst in ignorance! but tell,
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cerements! why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature,
So horridly to shake our disposition,3

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,

As if it some impartment did desire

To you alone.

Mar.

Look, with what courteous action

It waves you to a more removed4 ground:

But do not go with it.

Hor.

No, by no means.

Ham. It will not speak; then I will follow it.

Hor. Do not, my lord.

Ham.

Why, what should be the fear?

(1) Do out.

(2) Conversable.

(4) Remote.

(3) Frame.

I do not set my life at a pin's fee;1
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?

It waves me forth again;-I'll follow it.

Hor. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,

Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff,
That beetles2 o'er his base into the sea?
And there assume some other horrible form,
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain,
That looks so many fathoms to the sea,
And hears it roar beneath.

Ham.

Go on, I'll follow thee.

It waves me still :

Mar. You shall not go, my lord.
Ham.

Hold off your hands.

My fate cries out,

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go.
Ham.
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.-

[Ghost beckons. Still am I call'd;-unhand me, gentlemen ;

[Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets4

me :

I say, away :-Go on, I'll follow thee.

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. Hor. Have after:-To what issue will this come? Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,

Hor. Heaven will direct it.

Mar.

Nay, let's follow him. [Exeunt.

(1) Value. (2) Hangs. (3) Whims. (4) Hinders.

i

SCENE V-A more remote part of the platform. Re-enter Ghost and Hamlet.

Ham. Whither wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.

Ghost. Mark me.

Ham.

Ghost.

When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself.

Ham.

I will.

My hour is almost come,

Alas, poor ghost!

Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold.

Ham,

Speak, I am bound to hear.

Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt

hear.

Ham. What?

Ghost. I am thy father's spirit:

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night;
And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their
spheres ;

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand an-end,
Like quills upon the fretful Porcupine:
But this eternal blazon! must not be

To ears of flesh and blood:-List, list, O list!-
If thou didst ever thy dear father love,

Ham. O heaven!

Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

Ham. Murder?

Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is;

(1) Display

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. Ham. Haste me to know it; that I, with wings as swift

As meditation, or the thoughts of love,

May sweep to my revenge.

Ghost.

I find thee apt;

And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,

Would'st thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis given out, that, sleeping in mine orchard,1
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is, by a forged process of my death,

Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life,
Now wears his crown.

Ham. O, my prophetic soul! my uncle!

Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, (O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!) won to his shameful Just The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: O, Hamlet, what a falling off was there! From me, whose love was of that dignity, That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage; and to decline Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine!

But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will sate2 itself in a celestial bed,

And prey on garbage.

But, soft! methinks, I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be :-Sleeping within mine orchard,
My custom always of the afternoon,

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon3 in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour

(1) Garden.

(2) Satiate.

(3) Henbane.

The leperous distilment: whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine:
And a most instant tetter1 bark'd about,
Most lazar-like,2 with vile and loathsome crust,
All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand,
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatch'd:3
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd,4 disappointed,5 unanel'd ;6
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head:
O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But, howsoever thou pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:

Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.

[Exit.

Ham. O all you host of heaven! O earth! what

else?

And shall I couple hell?-O fie!-Hold, hold, my heart;

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,

But bear me stiffly up!-Remember thee?

Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat

(1) Scab, scurf.

(2) Leprous.

(3) Bereft.

(4) Without having received the sacrament.

(5) Unappointed, unprepared.

(6) Without extreme unction.