Bar.
Who's there?

Fran.
Nay answer me, stand and unfold your self.

Bar.
Long live the King.

Fran.
Barnardo?

Bar.
He.

Fran.
You come most carefully upon your hour.

Bar.
'Tis now strook twelve: get thee to bed Francisco.

Fran.
For this relief much thanks, 'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.

Bar.
Have you had quiet guard?

Fran.
Not a Mouse stirring.

Bar.
Well, good night:
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran.
I think I hear them. Stand ho: who is there?

Hora
Friends to this ground.

Mar.
And Liegemen to the Dane.

Fran.
Good night.

Mar.
O farewel honest Souldiers; who has relieved you?

Fran.
Barnardo has my place: good night. Exit. Fran.

Mar.
Holla Barnardo.

Bar.
Say, what is Horatio there?

Hora.
A piece of him.

Bar.
Welcome Horatio welcome good Marcellus.

Hora.
What, has this thing appeard again to night?

Bar.
I have seen nothing.

Mar.
Horatio says 'tis but a phantasie,
And will not let belief take hold of him,
Touching this dreaded fight twice seen of us;
Therefore I have entreated him along,
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
“That if again this apparition come,
“He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

“Hora.
'Twill not appear.

Bar.
Sit down a while,
And let us once again assail your ears
That are so fortified against our story,
What we have too nights seen.

Hora.
Well, let's down,
And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.

Bar.
Last night of all,
When yond same Star that's westward from the Pole,
Had made his course to enlighten that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and my self,
The bell then beating one. Enter Ghost.

Mar.
Peace, break thee off, look where it comes again.

Bar.
In the same figure, like the King that's dead.

Mar.
Thou art a Scholar, speak to it Horatio.

Hor.
Most like, it startles me with fear and wonder.

Bar.
It would be spoke to.

Mar.
Speak to it Horatio.

Hora.
What art thou that usurpest this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form,
In which the Majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? I charge thee speak.

Mar.
It is offended.

Bar.
See it stalks away.

Hor.
Stay, speak, speak, I charge thee speak. [Exit Ghost.

Mar.
'Tis gone and will not answer.

Bar.
How now Horatio? you tremble and look pale:
Is not this something more than phantasie?

What think you of it?

Hora.
I could not believe this,
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.

Mar,
Is it not like the King?

Hor.
As thou art to thy self:
Such was the very armour he had on,
When he th' ambitious Norway combated.
“So frown'd he once, when in an angry Parle
“He smote the sleaded Pollax on the ice.
'Tis strange.

Mar.
Thus twice before, and at the same hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.

Hora.
In what particular thought to work I know not,
But in the scope of mine opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our State.

Mar.
Pray sit down and tell me he that knows,
Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nighly toils the subject of the land,
“And with such daily cost of brasen Cannon,
“And foreign Mart for implements of war?
“Why such impress of ship-wrights, whose sore task
“Does not divide the Sunday from the week?
“What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
“Makes the night joynt labour with the day?
“Who is't that can inform me?

Hora.
That can I:
“At least the whisper goes so.—Our last King,
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbrass of Norway,
“Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride,
Dar'd to the combate; in which our valiant Hamlet,
“For (so this side of our known world esteem'd him)
Did slay this Fortinbrass, who by a seal'd compact,
Well ratified by Law and Heraldry,
Did forfeit (with his life) all these his lands,
“Which he stood seiz'd of, to the Conquerour:
“Against the which a moity competent
“Was gaged by our King, which had returned
“To the inheritance of Fortinbrass,
“Had he been vanquisher: as by the same compact,
“And carriage of the Articles design,
“His fell to Hamlet: now sir, young Fortinbrass
“Of unimproved metal, hot, and full,

Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
Sharkt up a list of lawless resolutes,
“For food and diet to some enterprise
“That hath a stomack in't, which is no other
“As it doth well appear unto our state,
“But to recover of us by strong hand
“and Terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
So by his Father lost:” and this I take it
Is the main motive of our preparations,
“The source of this our watch, and the chief head
“Of this post haste, and romage in the land.

Bar.
I think it be no other but even so:
Well may it sort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch so like the King
That was and is the question of these wars.

“Hora.
A mote it is to trouble the minds eye.
“In the most high and flourishing state of Rome,
“A little e're the mightiest Julius fell,
“The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
“Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets,
“As Stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood,
“Disasters in the Sun, and the moist Star,
“Upon whose influence Neptunes Empire stands,
“Was sick almost to Doomsday with eclipse,
“And even the like precurse of fierce events,
“As harbingers preceding still the fates.
“And Prologue to the Omen coming on,
“Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
“Unto our Climatures and Countrymen. [Enter Ghost.
But soft, behold! lo where it comes again,
I'le cross it though it blast me: Stay illusion, [He spreads his arms.
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice
Speak to me: if there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy Countries fate,
Which happily foreknowing may avoid,
O speak:
Or if thou hast uphoorded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
For which they say your spirits oft walk in death, [The Cock crows.
Speak of it, stay and speak; stop it Marcellus.

Mar.
Shall I strike it with my Partisan?

Hor.
Do if it will not stand.

Bar.
'Tis here.

Hor.
'Tis here.

Mar.
'Tis gone. [Exit Ghost.
We do it wrong being so majestical,
To offer it the shew of violence:
It is ever as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.

Bar.
It was about to speak when the Cock crew.

Hor.
And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons: I have heard,
The Cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
Th' extravagant and erring spirit hyes
To his confine; “and of the truth herein
“This present object made probation.

Mar.
It faded at the crowing of the Cock.
“Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes,
“Wherein our Saviours birth is celebrated,
“This bird of dawning singeth all night long,
“And then they say no spirit dares stir abroad,
“The nights are wholesome; then no Planets strike,
“No Fairy takes, no Witch hath power to charm;
“So hallowed and so gracious is that time.

“Hor.
So have I heard, and do in part believe it:
But look, the morn in russet mantle clad
Walks o're the dew of yon high Eastern hill:
Break we our watch up, and by my advice
Let us impart what we have seen to night
Unto young Hamlet; perhaps
This spirit dumb to us will speak to him.
“Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
“As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Mar.
Lets do't I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most convenient. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrad the Queen, Council, as Polonius, and his Son Laertes, Hamlet, cum aliis.

King.
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brothers death
The memory be green, and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole Kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe:

Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of our selves:
Therefore our sometime Sister, now our Queen,
Th' Imperial Jointress to this warlike State,
Have we as 'twere with a defeated joy,
“With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
“With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
“In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
Taken to wife, nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along (for all our thanks)
“Now follows that you know young Fortinbrass,
“Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
“Or thinking by our late dear brothers death
“Our state to be dis-joynt, and out of frame,
“Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
“He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
“Importing the surrender of those lands
“Lost by his father, with all bands of Law,
“To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
“Now for our self, and for this time of meeting,
“Thus much the business is, we have here writ
“To Norway, Uncle of young Fortinbrass,
“Who impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears
“Of this his Nephews purpose, to suppress
“His further gate herein, in that the levies,
“The lists, and full proportions are all made
“Out of his subjects: and we now dispatch
“You good Cornelius, and you Voltemand,
“Ambassadors to old Norway,
“Who have no further personal power
“Of Treaty with the King, more than the scope
“Of these delated Articles allow.
“Farewel, and let your haste commend your duty.

“Cor. Vo.
In that and all things will we shew our duty.

“King.
We doubt it nothing: heartily farewel.
Now Laertes, what's the news with you?
You told us of some suit, what is't Laertes?
“You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
“And lose your voice: what would'st thou beg Laertes?
“That shall not be my offer, not thy asking.
“The head is not more native to the heart,
“The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

“Than is the Throne of Denmark to thy Father:
“What would'st thou have Laertes?

Laer.
My dear Lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
To shew my duty in your Coronation;
Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
“And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

King.
Have you your fathers leave? what says Polonius?

Polo.
He hath, my Lord, wrung from me my slow leave,
By laboursome petition; and at last,
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent.
“I do beseech you give him leave to go.

King.
Take thy fair hour Laertes, time be thine,
And thy best graces; spend it at thy will.
But now my cousin Hamlet, and my son.

Ham.
A little more than kin, and less than kind.

King.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Ham.
Not so much my Lord, I am too much in the Sun.

Queen.
Good Hamlet cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st 'tis common all that live must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

Ham.
I Madam, it is common.

Queen.
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?

Ham.
Seems Madam, nay it is, I know not seems,
'Tis not alone this mourning cloke could smother,
“Nor customary sutes of solemn black,
“Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
“No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
“Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
That can denote me truly; these indeed seem,
“For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within which passes shew,
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

King.
'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature Hamlet,
To give these mourning duties to your father.
But you must know your father lost a father;
That father lost, lost his, and the surviver bound

In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow; but to persevere
In obstinate condolement, dares express
An impious stubbornness, 'tis unmanly grief,
“It shews a will most incorrect to heaven,
“A heart unfortified, or mind impatient,
“An understanding simple and unschool'd:
“For what we know must be, and is as common
“As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
“Why should we in our peevish opposition
“Take it to heart? fie, 'tis a fault to heaven
“A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
“To reason most absurd, whose common theam
“Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried
“From the first coarse till he that died to day,
‘This must be so: we pray you throw to earth
This unprevailing woe, and think of us
As of a father: and let the world take note
You are the most immediate to our throne,
“And with no less nobility of love
“Than that which dearest father bears his son
“Do I impart toward you for your intent
“In going back to School to Wittenberg;
“It is most retrograde to our desire,
“And we beseech you bend you to remain
“Here in the chear and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest Courtier, cousin, and our son.

Queen.
Let not thy mother lose her prayers Hamlet.
I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg

Ham.
I shall in all my best obey you Madam.

King.
'Tis a loving and a fair reply.
Be as our self in Denmark. Madam come,
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,
No jocund health that Denmark drinks to day
But the great Cannon to the Clouds shall tell,
“And the Kings rowse the heaven shall bruit again,
Respeaking earthly thunder: Come away. [Flourish, Exeunt all but Hamlet.

Ham.
O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw and resolve it self into a dew,
Or that the everlasting had not fixt
His Cannon 'gainst self slaughter!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to mee all the uses of this world?

'Tis an unweeded Garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it meerly: that it should come thus,
But two months dead, nay not so much, not two,
So excellent a King,
So loving to my mother,
That he permitted not the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly:
She used to hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet within a month,
Let me not think on't, frailty thy name is woman,
“A little month: or e're those shooes were old,
“With which she followed my poor fathers body,
“Like Niobe all tears, why she,
“Heaven? a beast that wants discourse of reason
“Would have mourn'd longer,” married with my uncle,
My fathers brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month,
“E're yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
“Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
“She married? O most wicked speed to post
“With such dexterity to incestuous sheets,
“It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
“But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo.

Hor.
Hail to your Lordship.

Ham.
I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I forget my self.

Hora.
The same my Lord, and your poor servant ever.

Ham.
Sir my good friend, I'le change that name with you;
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus.

Mar.
My good Lord.

Ham.
I am very glad to see you (good even Sir.)
But what make you from Wittenberg?

Hora.
A truant disposition, my good Lord.

Ham.
I would not hear your enemy say so,
Nor shall you do my ear that violence
To be a witness of your own report
Against your self; I know you are no truant;
But what is your affair in Elsenour?
Wee'l teach you here to drink e're you depart.

Hora.
My Lord, I came to see your Fathers Funeral.

Ham.
I prethee do not mock me fellow student.

I think it was to my Mothers Wedding.

Hor.
Indeed my Lord it follow'd hard upon.

Ham.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the Funeral bak'd meats
Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
E're I had seen that day Horatio.
My father, methinks I see my father.

Hora.
Where my Lord?

Ham.
In my minds eye Horatio.

Hora.
I saw him once, he was a goodly King.

Ham.
He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hora.
My Lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Ham.
Saw who?

Hora.
My Lord, the King your father.

Ham.
The King my father!

Hora.
Defer your admiration but a while
With an attentive ear, till I may deliver
Upon the witness of these Gentlemen
This wonder to you.

Ham.
Pray let me hear.

Hor.
Two nights together had these Gentlemen,
Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch,
“In the dead vast and middle of the night
Been thus encountred: a figure like your father,
And armed exactly, Cap ape,
Appears before them, and with solemn march
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walkt
By their opprest and fear surprized eyes
Within this truncheons length, whilst they distill'd
Almost to gelly with their fear,
Stand dumb and speak not to him: this to me
They did impart in dreadful secresie,
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
Where as they had delivered, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes: ‘I knew your father,
“These hands are not more like.

Ham.
But where was this?

Mar.
My Lord upon the platform where we watcht.

Ham.
Did you not speak to it?

Hor.
My Lord, I did,
But answer made it none: yet once methought
It lifted up its head, and did address

It self to motion, as it would speak;
But even then the morning Cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanisht from our sight.

Ham.
'Tis very strange.

Hor.
As I do live, my honour'd Lord, 'tis true,
And we did think it then our duty
To let you know it.

Ham.
Indeed Sirs but this troubles me,
Hold you the watch to night?

All.
We do my Lord.

Ham.
Arm'd say you?

All.
Arm'd my Lord.

Ham.
From top to toe?

All.
From head to foot.

Ham.
Then saw you not his face?

Hora.
O yes my Lord, he wore his Beaver up.

Ham.
What? lookt he frowningly?

Hor.
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Ham
Pale or red?

Hor
Nay very pale.

Ham.
And fixt his eyes upon you?

Hor.
Most constantly.

Ham.
I would I had been there.

Hor.
It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham.
Very like: staid it long?

Hor.
While one with moderate haste might tell an hundred.

Both.
Longer, longer.

Hor.
Not when I saw't.

Ham.
His beard was grisled?

Hor.
It was as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silver'd.

Ham.
I will watch to night,
Perchance 'twill walk again.

Hor.
I warn't it will.

Ham.
If it assume my noble fathers person
I'le speak to it though hell it self should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it require your silence still,
And whatsoever else shall hap to night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: So fare you well,
Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve

I'le visit you.

All.
Our duty to your honour. [Exeunt.

Ham.
Your loves as mine to you; farewel. [Manet Hamlet.
My fathers spirit in arms, all is not well,
I doubt some foul play, would the night were come:
Till then sit still my soul, foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'rewhelm them from mens eyes. [Exit. Enter Laertes, and Ophelia his Sister.

Laer.
My necessaries are imbark't, farewel,
And sister, as the winds give benefit
“And convey in assistant,” do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.

Ophel.
Do you doubt that?

Laert.
For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,
Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood,
A violet in the youth and prime of nature,
Forward, not permanent; sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute:
No more.

Ophel.
No more but so.

Laer.
Think it no more.
“For nature cressant does not grow alone,
“In thews and bulks, but as this Temple waxes,
“The inward service of the mind and soul
“Grows wide withal: perhaps he loves you now,
“And now no soil nor cautel doth besmerch
“The virtue of his will; but you must fear
His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own.
He may not, as interiour persons do,
Bestow himself: for on his choice depends
The safety and health of this whole state,
“And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd
“Unto the voice and yielding of that body
“Whereof he is the head, then if he says he loves you,
“It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,
“As he in his particular act and place
“May give his saying deed; which is no further
“Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
If with your credulous ear you hear his songs,
“Or loose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
“To his unmastred importunity.
Fear it Ophelia, fear it my dear sister,
“And keep you in the rear of your affection,

“Out of the shot and danger of desire:
“The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
“If she unmask her beauty to the Moon:
“Virtue it self scapes not calumnious strokes;
“The canker galls the infant of the Spring
“Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd,
“And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
‘Contagious blastments are most imminent.
“Be wary then, best safety lies in fear,
“Youth to it self rebells though none else near.

Ophel.
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
About my heart: But good brother
Do not as some ungracious Pastors do,
Shew me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
Whiles like a Libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
“And reaks not his own reed, [Enter Polonius.

Laer.
O fear me not;
I stay too long: “but here my father comes.
“A double blessing is a double grace,
“Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

Polo.
Yet here Laertes? aboord, aboord for shame,
“The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
“And you are staid for. There, my blessing with thee,
“And these few precepts in thy memory
“Look thou character: Give thy thoughts no tongue,
“Nor any unproportion'd thought his act:
“Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar:
“Those friends thou hast and their adoption tried,
“Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,
“But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
“Of each new hatch't, unfledg'd courage: beware
“Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
“Bear't that th' opposer may beware of thee:
“Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
“Take each mans censure, but reserve thy judgment:
“Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
“But not exprest in fancy; rich, nor gaudy;
“For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
“And they in France of the best rank and station,
“Are of a most select and generous, chief in that:
“Neither a borrower nor a lender boy,
“For love oft loses both it self and friend,
“And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

“This above all, to thine own self be true,
“And it must follow as the night to day,
“Thou canst not then be false to any man.
“Farewel, my blessing season this in thee.

Laer.
Most humbly I do take my leave my Lord.

Pol.
The time invests you, go, your servants tend.

Laer.
Farewel Ophelia, and remember well
What I have said to you.

Ophel.
'Tis in my memory lockt,
And you your self shall keep the key of it.

Laer.
Farewel. [Exit Laertes.

Pol.
What is't Ophelia he hath said to you?

Ophel.
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.

Pol.
Marry well bethought.
'Tis told me he hath very oft of late
Given private time to you: and you your self
Have of your audience been most free and bounteous.
If it be so, as so 'tis put on me,
And that in way of caution, I must tell you
You do not understand your self so clearly
As it behoves my daughter, and your honour:
What is between you? give me up the truth.

Ophel.
He hath my Lord of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.

Pol.
Affection! puh, you speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perillous circumstance:
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

Ophel.
I do not know, my Lord, what I should think.

Pol.
Marry I will teach you, think your self a baby,
That you have ta'n these tenders for true pay,
Which are not sterling: tender your self more dearly,
Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase)
Wrong it thus, you'l tender me a fool.

Ophel.
My Lord, he hath importun'd me with love
In honourable fashion.

Pol.
I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too.

Ophel.
And hath given countenance to his speech,
My Lord with almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Pol.
I springes to catch Wood-cocks; I know
When the blood burns how prodigally the soul
Lends the tongue vows, “these blazes daughter
“Giving more light than heat; extinct in both,
“Even in their promise, as it is a making,
“You must not tak't for fire: from this time

“Be something scanter of your maiden presence,
“Set your entreatments at a higher rate
“Than a command to parley; for Lord Hamlet,
“Believe so much in him, that he is young,
“And with a larger tedder may he walk
“Than may be given you: in few Ophelia,
“Do not believe his vows, for they are Brokers,
“Not of that dye which their investments shew,
“But meer implorators of unholy suits,
“Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,
“The better to beguile: this is for all,
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
Have you so slander any moments leisure,
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet,
Look to't I charge you, come your ways.

Ophel.
I shall obey my Lord. [Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.

Ham.
The air bites shrewdly, it is very cold.

Hora.
It is a nipping, and an eager air.

Ham.
What hour now?

Hora.
I think it lacks of twelve.

Mar.
No, it is strook.

Hora.
I heard it not: it then draws near the season
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [A flourish of Trumpets and Guns.
What does this mean my Lord?

Ham.
The King doth walk to night, and takes his rowse,
“Keeps wassel, and the swaggering up spring reels,
And as he takes his draughts of Rhenish down,
The Kettle Drum and Trumpet thus proclaim
The triumph of his pledge.

Hora.
Is it a custom?

Ham.
I marry is't,
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 taxed of other Nations;
“They clepe us Drunkards, and with swinish phrase
“Soil our addition: and indeed it takes
“From our atchievements, 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 origen)
“By their o're-growth of some complexion,
“Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
“Or by some habit that too much o're-leavens
“The form of plausive manners, that these men
“Carrying I say the stamp of one defect,
“Being Natures livery, or Fortunes star,
“His 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 ease
“Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
“To his own scandal. [Enter Ghost.

Hor.
Look my Lord, where 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,
“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 interr'd,
“Has op't his ponderous and marble jaws,
“To cast thee up again:” what may this mean
That thou dead coarse 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
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say why is this? wherefore? what should we do? [Beckens.

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

Mar.
Look with what courteous action
It waves you to a remote ground,
But do not go with it.

Hora.
No, by no means.

Ham
It will not speak, then I will follow it.

Hora.
Do not my Lord.

Ham.
Why? what should be the fear?
I do not value my life:

And for my soul what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as it self?
It waves me forth again, I'll follow it.

Hora.
What if it tempt you toward the floods my Lord,
Or to the dreadful border of the cliff,
“That bettels o're his base into the Sea,
And there assume some other 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 sadoms to the Sea,
“And hears it roar beneath.

Ham.
It waves me still,
“Go on, I'll follow thee.

Mar.
You shall not go my Lord.

Ham.
Hold off your hands.

Hora.
Be rul'd, you shall not go.

Ham.
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean Lions nerve:
Still I am call'd; unhand me Gentlemen,
I'll make a Ghost of him that letts me:
I say away: Go on I'll follow thee. [Exit Ghost and Hamlet.

Hor.
He grows desperate with imagination.

Mar.
Let's follow, 'tis not fit thus to obey him.

Hora.
To what issue will this come?

Mar.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Hora.
Heaven will discover it

“Mar.
Nay let's follow him. [Exeunt. Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

Ham.
Whither 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 sulphrous 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 what thou shalt hear.

Ham.
What?

Ghost.
I am thy fathers 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 fearful 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 Heayen!

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 flie to my revenge.

Ghost.
I find thee apt;
“And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed
“That roots it self in ease on Lethe's wharf,
“Would'st thou not stir in this:” now Hamlet hear,
'Tis given out, that sleeping in my Garden
A Serpent stung me: so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abused: but know thou, noble Youth,
The Serpent that did sting thy fathers heart
Now wears his Crown.

Ham
O my Prophetick soul, my Uncle?

Ghost.
I that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
“With witchcraft of his wits, with trait'rous gifts,
“O wicked wits, and gifts that have the power
“So to seduce!” won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming vertuous 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 vertue, as it never will be mov'd

“Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,
“So but though to a radiant angle link't,
‘Will sort it self in a celestial bed,
“And prey on garbage.
But soft, methinks I sent the morning air,
Brief let me be: sleeping in my Garden,
My custom always of the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy Uncle to me stole
With juyce of cursed Hebona in a Vial,
And in the porches of my ears did pour
The leprous distilment, whose effects
Hold such an enmity with blood of man,
That swift as Quick-silver it courses through
The natural gates and allies of the body,
And with a sudden vigour it doth possess
“And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood; so did it mine,
And a most instant Tetter barkt about
Most Lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust
All my smooth body.
Thus was I sleeping, by a brothers hand,
“Of life of Crown, of Queen at once dispatcht,
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
“Unnuzled, disappointed, un-aneald,
“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 design
Against thy mother ought, leave her to heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her: fare thee well at once,
The Gloworm shews the morning to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Farewel, remember me.

“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 strongly up; remember thee!
I thou poor Ghost, whiles 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 Registers of books, all forms, and pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there,
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixt with baser matter; yes by heaven.
O most pernicious woman!
O villain, villain, smiling villain!
My tables, meet it is I set down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.
So Uncle there you are: now to my word,
It is farewel, remember me.
I have sworn't, [Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Hora.
My Lord, my Lord.

Mar.
Lord Hamlet.

Hora.
Heavens secure him.

Ham.
So be it.

Mar.
Illo, ho, ho, my Lord.

Ham.
Hillo, ho, ho boy, come and come.

Mar.
How is't my noble Lord?

Ham.
O wonderful!

Hor.
Good my Lord tell it.

Ham.
No, you will reveal it.

Hora.
Not I my Lord.

Mar.
Nor I my Lord.

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

Both.
As death, my Lord.

Ham.
There's never a villain
Dwelling in all Denmark,
But he's an arrant knave.

Hora.
There needs no Ghost, my Lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.

Ham.
Why right, you are in 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 my own poor part
I will go pray.

Hora.
These are but wild and windy words my Lord.

Ham.
I am sorry they offend you heartily,

Yes faith heartily

Hora.
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
O're-master't as you may: and now good friends,
As you are friends, Scholars, and Souldiers
Give me one poor request.

Hora.
What is't my Lord, we will.

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

Both.
My Lord we will not.

Ham.
Nay but swear't.

Hora.
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 cries under the Stage.

Ghost.
Swear.

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

Hora.
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:
Swear by my sword.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.

Ghost.
Swear by his sword.

Ham
Well said old Mole, canst thou work i'th earth so fast?
A worthy Pioner, once more remove good friends.

Hora.
O day and night! but this is wondrous strange.

Ham.
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome:
There are more things in heaven and earth Horatio
Than are dream't of in your Philosophy: but come,
Here as before; never so help you mercy,
(How strange or odd so e're I bear my self,
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet,
To put an antick disposition on,
That you at such times seeing me, never shall

With arms encumbred thus, or head thus shak't,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, well, well, we know, or we could and if we would,
Or if we list to speak, or there be, or if they might,
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note)
That you know ought of me, this you must swear,
“So grace and mercy at your most need help you.

Ghost.
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 friendship to you
Shall never fail, let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray,
The time is out of joynt, O cursed spight
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay come, let's go together. [Exeunt.