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

Ghost.
Mark me.

Ham.
I will.

Ghost.
My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up my self.

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 in fires;(18) ^note

Ham.
Oh heav'n!

Ghost.
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther.

Ham.
Murther?

Ghost.
Murther 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 shouldst thou be, than the fat weed

That roots it self in ease on Lethe's wharf,
Wouldst 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.
Oh, my prophetick soul! my uncle?

Ghost.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with trait'rous gifts,
(Oh wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!) won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous Queen.
Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand ev'n 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 heav'n;
So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will sate it self 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 of the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole
With juice of cursed hebenon in a viol,
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 quick-silver it courses through
The nat'ral gates and allies of the body;
And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholsome 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 dispatcht;
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, unappointed, unaneal'd:(19) ^note

No reck'ning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
Oh, horrible! oh, 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 pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heav'n,
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,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
Adieu, adieu, adieu; remember me. [Exit.

Ham.
Oh, all you host of heav'n! oh earth! what else?
And shall I couple hell? oh, 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(20) ^note



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 heav'n:
Oh most pernicious woman!
Oh 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'm sure, it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.
So, uncle, there you are; now to my word;
It is; Adieu, adieu, remember me:
I've sworn it— Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Hor.
My lord, my lord,—

Mar.
Lord Hamlet,—

Hor.
Heav'n secure him!

Mar.
So be it.

Hor.
Illo, ho, ho, my lord!

Ham.
Hillo, ho, ho, boy; come, bird, come.

Mar.
How is't, my noble lord?

Hor.
What news, my lord?

Ham.
Oh, wonderful!

Hor.
Good my lord, tell it.

Ham.
No, you'll reveal it.

Hor.
Not I, my lord, by heav'n.

Mar.
Nor I, my lord.

Ham.
How say you then, would heart of man once think it?
But you'll be secret—

Both.
Ay, by heav'n, my lord.

Ham.
There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark,
But he's an arrant knave.

Hor.
There needs no Ghost, my lord, come from the Grave
To tell us this.

Ham.
Why, right, you are i'th' right;
And so without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands, and part;
You, as your business and desires shall point you;
(For every man has business and desire,
Such as it is) and for my own poor part,
I will go pray.

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

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

Hor.
There's no offence, my lord.

Ham.
Yes, by St. Patrick, but there is, my lord,
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,
O'er-master it as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.

Hor.
What is't, my lord?

Ham.
Never make known what you have seen to night.

Both.
My lord, we will not.

Ham.
Nay, but swear't.

Hor.
In faith, my lord, not I.

Mar.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.

Ham.
Upon my sword.

Mar.
We have sworn, my lord, already.

Ham.
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.

Ghost.
Swear. [Ghost cries under the stage.

Ham.
Ah ha, boy, say'st thou so? art thou there, true-penny?
Come on, you hear this fellow in the celleridge.
Consent to swear.

Hor.
Propose the oath, my lord.

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

Ghost.
Swear.

Ham.
Hic & ubique? then we'll shift our ground.
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword.
Never to speak of this which you have heard,(21) ^note





Swear by my sword.

Ghost.
Swear by his sword.

Ham.
Well said, old mole, can'st work i'th' ground so fast?
A worthy pioneer! Once more remove, good friends.

Hor.
Oh day and night, but this is wondrous strange.

Ham.
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heav'n and earth, Horatio,(22) ^note

Ghost.
Swear.

Ham.
Rest, rest, perturbed Spirit. So, Gentlemen,
With all my love do I 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; oh, cursed spight!
That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come, let's go together. [Exeunt.

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