Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason; Shall in the general censure take corruption To his own scandal. Hor. Look, my lord, it comes! Enter Ghost. Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!- Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? [Ghost beckons HAMLET. 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 removed ground: But do not go with it. Hor. No, by no means. Ham. It will not speak; then will I follow it. Ham. Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; 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 beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason, Ham. Go on; I'll follow thee. It waves me still. Mar. You shall not go, my lord. Hor. Be rul'd; you shall not go. Ham. Hold off your hands. My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body [Ghost beckons. [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets 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. SCENE V.-A more remote part of the Platform. Enter Ghost and HAMLET. Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no farther. Alas, poor ghost! Must render up myself. Ham. 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 waste in fires I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; And each particular hair to stand on end, 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 God! Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. Ham. Murder! Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. Ham. Haste me to know't, 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 shouldst thou be than the fat weed That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: 'Tis given out that, sleeping in mine orchard, 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, Now wears his crown. Ham. O my prophetic soul! mine uncle! Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, So to seduce!-won to his shameful lust 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; And prey on garbage. But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand, No reckoning made, but sent to my account Ham. O all you host of heaven! [Exit. O earth! what else? And shall I couple hell?-O, fie!--Hold, my heart; Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; Mar. [within.] So be it! Hor. [within.] Illo, ho, ho, my lord! [Writing. Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS. Mar. How is't, my noble lord? Hor. Ham. O, wonderful! Hor. What news, my lord? Good my lord, tell it. Nor I, my lord. Ham. No; you'll reveal it. Hor. Not I, my lord, by heaven. Mar. Ham. How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? But you'll be secret? Hor. and Mar. Ay, by heaven, my lord. Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave. Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. Ham. Why, right; you are i' the right; I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: You, as your business and desire shall point you,— For every man has business and desire, Such as it is;-and for mine own poor part, |