Ham. What hour now? Hor. Mar. No, it is struck. I think, it lacks of twelve. Hor. Indeed? I heard it not; it then draws near the season, Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within. What does this mean, my lord? Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rou-e, Keeps wassel,2 and the swaggering up-spring3 reels; Hor. Ham. Ay, marry, is't: Is it a custom? But to my mind,-though I am native here, And to he 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: From our achievements, though perforin'd at height, That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,5 (1) Jovial draught. (2) Jollity. (3) A dance. As infinite as man may undergo,) Shall, in the general censure, take corruption To his own scandal. Hor. Enter Ghost. Look, my lord, it comes! 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, That I will speak to thee; I'll call thee Hamlet, With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? 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. I do not set my life at a pin's fee;1 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 beetles2 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. Hold off your hands. My fate cries out, Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go. [Ghost beckons. Still am I call'd ;-unhand me, gentlemen ; [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets4 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 Den mark. Hor. Heaven will direct it. Mar. Nay, let's follow him. [Exeunt. (1) Value. (2) Hangs. (3) Whims. (4) Hinders. 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 further. Ghost. Mark me. Ham. Ghost. When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Ham. I will. My hour is almost come, 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 in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Thy knotted and combined locks to part, To ears of flesh and blood:-List, list, O list!- Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural Ham. Murder? Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is; (1) Display But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge. I find thee apt; Ghost. Would'st thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth, 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; And prey on garbage. But, soft! methinks, I scent the morning air; Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, (1) Garden. (2) Satiate. (3) Henbane. |