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 God!

Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

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. 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 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
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 mine orchard,

My custom always in the afternoon,

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon in a phial,
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 eager droppings into milk,

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 despatch'd:
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd;

No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.

Ham. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
Ghost. 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 shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, 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
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,
That youth and observation copied there,
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven.
O, most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
My tables,-meet it is, I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least, I am sure, it may be so in Denmark:

[Writing.
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
It is, "Adieu, adieu! remember me."
I have sworn't.

Hor. [Within.] My lord! my lord!
Mar. [Within.] Lord Hamlet!
Hor. [Within.]
Mar.

Heaven secure him!

Within.] So be it!

Hor. [Within.] Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.

Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this.

Ham. Why, right; you are i' the right; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: You, as your business and desire shall point you, For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is; and, for mine own poor part, Look you, I'll go pray.

Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; Yes, 'faith, heartily.

Hor.

There's no offence, my lord.

Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is,
Horatio,

And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,

Ham. Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear by my sword.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Hic et ubique? then, we'll shift our ground.

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Well said, old mole! can'st work i' the earth so fast?

A worthy pioneer!-Once more remove, good friends.

Hor. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it wel

come.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come;-
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,-
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet

To put an antic disposition on,-
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, "Well, well, we know ;"-or, "We could, an
if we would;"-

Or, "If we list to speak;"-or, "There be, an if they might;"

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note

That you know aught of me :-this not to do,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!-So, gentlemen,

With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, t' express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint;-O cursed spite!
That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come; let's go together.

[Exeunt.

Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arm,
And, with his other hand thus, o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face,

As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so:
At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,-
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound,
That it did seem to shatter all his bulk,

And end his being. That done, he lets me go,
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o' doors he went without their help,
And to the last bended their light on me.

Pol. Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstasy of love;
Whose violent property fordoes itself,

And leads the will to desperate undertakings,
As oft as any passion under heaven,
That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,-
What! have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did com-
mand,

I did repel his letters, and denied

His access to me.

Enter King, Queen, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants.

King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern:

Moreover, that we much did long to see you,
The need we have to use you, did provoke
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it,
Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man
Resembles that it was. What it should be,
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
So much from the understanding of himself,
I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,
That, being of so young days brought up with him,
And since so neighbour'd to his youth and humour,
That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
Some little time; so by your companies
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,
So much as from occasion you may glean,
Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd

of you; And, sure I am, two men there are not living,

Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege,

I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,

Both to my God, one to my gracious king:
And I do think, (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy so sure

As it hath us'd to do,) that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

King. O! speak of that; that do I long to hear.
Pol. Give first admittance to th' ambassadors;
My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring
them in.
[Exit POLONIUS.
He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found
The head and source of all your son's distemper.
Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main;
His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.
Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and COR-

NELIUS.

King. Well, we shall sift him.-Welcome, my good friends,

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires.
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack,
But, better look'd into, he truly found
It was against your highness: whereat griev'd,-
That so his sickness, age, and impotence,
Was falsely borne in hand,-sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he in brief obeys,
Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine,
Makes vow before his uncle, never more
To give th' assay of arms against your majesty.
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;