They clepe us, drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition; and, indeed it takes

From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute.

So, oft it chances in particular men,

That, for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin,)
By the o'er-growth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners;-that these men,
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect;
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-
Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,
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 doubt 24,

To his own scandal.

Hor.

Enter Ghost.

Look, my lord, it comes!

Ham. 25 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 questionable 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 cómplete steel, -
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature,
So horridly to shake our disposition,

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 removed 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?

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,
And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys 26 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.

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go.
Ham.

My fate cries out,

And makes each petty artery in this body

[Ghost beckons.

As hardly as the Némean lion's nerve.

Still am I call'd;-unhand me, gentlemen;

[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..

Re-enter Ghost and HAMLET.

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

When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself.
Ham.

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 27 in fires,

Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,

Are burnt and purg'd away 28. 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 on 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;

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 my 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,
The serpent, that did sting thy father's life,
Now wears his crown.

Ham. O, my prophetick 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 lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:
O, Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!