38

HAMLET,

ACT I.

Ham.

My fate cries out,

And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean 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 lets 1

me:

I say, away. Go on; I'll follow thee.

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.

Ho. He waxes desperate with imagination.
Mar. Let's follow: 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
Ho. Have after. To what issue will this come?
Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Den-

mark.

Ho. 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 farther.

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, confined to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purged 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;

shouldst thou be than the fat weed

tself in ease on Lethe wharf,

win hou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet,

bear:

out, that sleeping in mine orchard, ut stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark

forged process of my death

abused: but know, thou noble youth, spent, that did sting thy father's life, wears his crown.

ium. O, my prophetic soul! my uncle! host. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beas witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power seduce!) won to his shameful lust will of my most seeming-virtuous queen. Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! Yom me, whose love was of that dignity, That it went hand in hand even with the vow made to her in marriage; and to decline on a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor those of mine!

Sut virtue, as it never will be moved,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
lust. though to a radiant angel link'd,