Ham.
The Air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

Hor.
It is a nipping and an eager air.

Ham.
What hour now?

Hor.
I think it lacks of twelve.

Mar.
No, it is struck.

Hor.
I heard it not: it then draws near the season
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [Noise of warlike musick within.
What does this mean, my lord?

Ham.
The King doth wake to-night, and takes his rowse,
Keeps wassel, and the swagg'ring upstart 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 a custom?

Ham.
Ay 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.* ^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 heav'n, or blasts from hell,
Be thy ^{k note}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: oh! answer me,
Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
Why thy canoniz'd bones hearsed in death,
Have burst their cearments? why the sepulcher,
Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd,
Hath ope'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again? What may this mean?
That thou dead coarse again in compleat 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? [Ghost beckons Hamlet.

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

Hor.
No, by no means. [holding Hamlet.

Ham.
It will not speak; then I will 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 it self.
It waves me forth again.—I'll follow it—

Hor.
What if it tempt you tow'rd the flood, my lord?
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff,
That beetles o'er his base into the sea;
And there assume some other horrible form,
Which might deprive your sov'reignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? think of it.
* ^noteThe very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into ev'ry brain,
That looks so many fadoms 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 hand.

Hor.
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 lion's nerve:
Still am I call'd? unhand me, gentlemen— [Breaking from them.
By heav'n I'll make a ghost of him that lets me—

I say away—go on—I'll follow thee— [Ex. Ghost and Ham.

Hor.
He waxes desp'rate 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 Denmark.

Hor.
Heav'n will direct it.

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

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