ACT I
Sc. IV

HAM. The King doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,
Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring1 reels ;
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out

The triumph of his pledge.

HORA.

HAM. Ay, marry, is 't;

Is it a custom ?

But to my mind, though I am native here

And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honour'd in the breach than the observance.

This heavy-headed revel East and West

Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations:

They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition;2 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'ergrowth 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 eale
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt

To his own scandal

ΤΟ

20

30

HORA.

Look, my Lord, it comes!

Enter the Ghost.

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 questionable shape,

40

1 a wild dance.

2 title.

3 temperament.

4 gracious.

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

50

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
[Ghost beckons HAMLET.

HORA. It beckons you to go away with it,
As if it some impartment did desire

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.

HORA. 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 of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea,
And hears it roar beneath.

ACT I

Sc. IV

And makes each petty artery in this body

As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.

Still am I call'd. Unhand me, Gentlemen;

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.
HORA. He waxes desperate with imagination.
MARC. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
HORA. Have after. To what issue will this come?
MARC. Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.
HORA. Heaven will direct it.
MARC.

Nay; let's follow him.

90

[exeunt.

SCENE V. The Same. Another Part of the Platform.

Enter the Ghost and HAMLET.

HAM. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no

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 on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:
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 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,

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.

Mine uncle!

O my prophetic soul!

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!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow

20

30

40

50

ACT I

Sc. V

ACT I

Sc. V

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 sate itself in a celestial bed,

And prey on garbage.

But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
My custom always in the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon1 in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
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 eager2 droppings into milk,

60

70

The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;

And a most instant tetter bark'd about,

Most lazar-like, 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 dispatch'd;
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousell❜d, disappointed,* unanel'd ;5
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 pursuest 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 shews the matin to be near,

1 henbane.

172

2 acid.

3 without the sacrament. 5 without extreme unction.

4 unprepared.

80

90