Ham.
The air bites shrewdly ^note; it is very cold.

Hor.
It is a nipping ^note and an eager air.

Ham.
What hour now?

Hor.
I think, it lacks of twelve.

Mar.
No, it is strook.

Hor.
Indeed? I heard it not: it then ^note draws near the season,
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [Flourish of Trumpets, &c. and Ordinance going off, heard within.
What does this mean, my lord?

Ham.
The king14Q1422 doth wake to ^note-night, and takes his 'rouse,
Keeps wassel ^note, and the swaggering up-spring reels;
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum, and trumpet, thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.

Hor.
Is it ^note a custom?

Ham.
Ay, marry, is't:
But, to my mind,—though I am native here,
And to ^note the manner born,—it is a custom
More honour'd in the breach, than the observance.
This heavy-headed revel east and west ^note
Makes us traduc'd ^note, and tax'd of other nations:
They clepe ^note 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 origin)
By the o'er- ^notegrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners;—that these men,—
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect;
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,—
Their virtues ^note 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 base ^{note note}
Doth all the noble substance of worth out ^note,
To his own scandal. ^note Enter Ghost.

Hor.
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 ^note 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 death14Q1423,
Have burst their cearments; why the sepulcher,
Wherein we saw thee quietly interr'd, ^note
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again: What may this mean,—

That thou, dead corse, again, in compleat steel,
Revisit'st ^note 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 ^note of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?

Hor.
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 ^note to a more removed ground:
But do not go with it.

Hor.
No, by no means.

Ham.
It will not speak; then I will ^note follow it.

Hor.
Do not, my lord.

Ham.
Why, what should be the fear?
I do not set my life at a pin's fee:
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
It waves me forth again; I'll follow it.

Hor.
What, if14Q1424 it tempt you toward ^note the flood, my lord;
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff ^note,
That beetles o'er his base into the sea?
And there assume ^note some other horrible form,
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys of desperation, ^note
Without more motive, into every brain,
That looks so many fathoms to the sea,
And hears it roar beneath.

Ham.
It waves me ^note still:—
Go on, I'll follow thee,

Mar.
You shall not go, my lord.

Ham.
Hold off your hands. ^note

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

Ham.
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery ^note in this body
Hardy as ^note the Nemean ^note lion's nerve.—
Still am I call'd?—unhand me, gentlemen;
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me:
I say, away:—Go on, ^note I'll follow thee. [Exeunt Ghost, and Hamlet.

Hor.
He waxes desperate with imagination ^note.

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 Denmark.

Hor.
Heaven will direct it.

Mar.
Nay, let's follow him. [Exeunt.

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