Ham.
Whither ^note wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.

Ghost.
Mark me.

Ham.
I will.

Ghost.
My hour ^note is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.

Ham.
Alas, poor ghost!

Ghost.
Pity me not, but lend thy ^note serious hearing
To what I shall unfold. ^note

Ham.
Speak; I am bound to hear. ^note

Ghost.
So art thou to revenge, when ^note thou shalt hear.

Ham.
What? ^note

Ghost.
I am thy father's spirit;
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for ^note the day confined ^note to fast in ^note fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purged away. But that I am ^note 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 ^note and combined locks to part
And each particular hair to stand an end ^note,
Like quills upon the fretful ^note porpentine ^note:
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list ^note, O, list!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love— ^note

Ham.
O God ^note!

Ghost.
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

Ham.
Murder! ^note

Ghost.
Murder most ^note foul, as in ^note the best it is,
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

Ham.
Haste me ^note to know't ^note, that I ^note, with wings as swift ^note
As meditation ^note or the thoughts of love,
May sweep ^note to my revenge.

Ghost.
I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst ^note thou be than the fat weed
That roots ^note itself in ease on Lethe ^note wharf, ^note
Wouldst ^note thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis ^note given out that, sleeping in my ^note orchard ^note,
A serpent stung me; so ^note the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abused: but know, thou ^note noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life ^note
Now wears his crown.

Ham.
O my prophetic soul!
My ^note uncle! ^{note note}

Ghost.
Ay, ^note that incestuous, that adulterate ^note beast,
With witchcraft ^note of his wit ^note, with ^note traitorous gifts,— ^note

O wicked wit ^note and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!—won to his ^note shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous ^note queen:
O Hamlet, what a ^note 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 ^note decline
Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine! ^note
But virtue, as it never will be moved, ^note
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,
So lust, ^note though to a radiant angel ^note link'd,
Will sate ^note itself in a celestial bed
And prey ^note on ^note garbage. ^note
But, soft! methinks I scent ^note the morning ^note air;
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my ^note orchard ^note,
My custom always of ^note the afternoon,
Upon my secure ^note hour thy uncle stole ^note,
With juice of cursed hebenon ^note in a vial ^note,
And in the porches of my ^note ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
Holds ^note such an enmity with blood of man
That swift as quicksilver it courses through
The natural gates and alleys ^note of the body;

And with a sudden vigour ^note it doth posset ^note
And curd, like eager ^note droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;
And a most instant tetter bark'd ^note 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 ^note, at once dispatch'd ^note:
Cut off even in the blossoms ^note of my sin,
Unhousel'd ^note, disappointed ^note, unanel'd ^note;
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all ^note my imperfections on my head: ^note
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 ^note thou pursuest ^note this act,
Taint ^note not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive ^note
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 ^note to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu, adieu! ^note remember me. [Exit. ^note

Ham.
O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?

And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my ^{note note} heart;
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly ^note up. Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while ^note memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee! ^note
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws ^note of books, all forms, all pressures ^note 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 ^note, by heaven!
O most pernicious ^note woman!
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
My tables,— ^notemeet it is I set it ^note down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least I'm ^note sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing. ^note
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
It is ^note ‘Adieu, adieu! remember me.’
I have sworn't. ^{note note note note}

Hor. Mar. [Within] ^note
My lord, my lord! Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Mar.
Lord Hamlet!

Hor.
Heaven ^note secure him!

Ham. ^note
So be it!

Mar. ^note
Illo, ho, ho, my lord!

Ham.
Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, ^note come.

Mar.
How is't, my noble lord? ^note

Hor.
What news, my lord?

Ham. ^note
O, wonderful!

Hor.
Good my lord, tell it.

Ham.
No; you will ^note reveal it.

Hor.
Not I, my lord, by heaven.

Mar.
Nor I, my lord.

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

Hor. Mar. ^note
Ay, by heaven, my lord. ^note

Ham.
There's ne'er ^note a villain dwelling in all Denmark ^note
But ^{note note} he's an arrant knave.

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

Ham.
Why, right; you are i' the ^note right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
You, as your business and desire ^note shall point you;
For every man hath ^note business and desire,

Such as it is; and for my ^note own poor part,
Look you, I'll ^note go pray.

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

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

Hor.
There's no offence, my lord.

Ham.
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio ^note,
And much offence too. Touching ^note this vision here, ^note
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'ermaster't ^note 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? we will ^note.

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

Hor. Mar. ^note
My lord, we will not.

Ham.
Nay, but swear't.

Hor.
In faith,
My lord, not I. ^note

Mar.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.

Ham.
Upon my sword.

Mar.
We have ^note sworn, my lord, already.

Ham.
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. ^note

Ghost. [Beneath] ^note
Swear.

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

Hor.
Propose the oath ^note, my lord.

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

Ghost. [Beneath] ^note
Swear.

Ham.
Hic ^note et ubique? ^note then we'll shift our ^note ground.
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Never to speak of this that ^note you have heard, ^note
Swear by my sword.

Ghost. [Beneath] ^note
Swear. ^note

Ham.
Well said, old mole! canst ^note work i' the earth ^note so fast?
A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends ^{note note}.

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

Ham.
And therefore as a stranger give ^note it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your ^note philosophy.
But come; ^note
Here ^{note note}, as before, never, so help you mercy,

How strange or odd soe'er ^note I bear myself,
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet ^note
To put an antic disposition on ^{note note},
That you, at such times ^note seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake ^note,
Or ^note by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As ‘Well, well ^note, we know,’ or ‘We could, an if we would,’
Or ‘If we list to speak,’ or ‘There be, an if ^note they ^note might,’
Or such ambiguous giving ^note out, to note ^{note note note}
That you know aught of me: this not to do,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear. ^note

Ghost. [Beneath] ^note
Swear.

Ham.
Rest, rest, ^note perturbed spirit! [They swear.] ^note So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do ^note commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, to express his love and friending ^note to you,
God willing, shall not lack. ^note Let us go in ^note together ^note;

And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. ^note
The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set ^note it right!
Nay, come, let's go together. [Exeunt.

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