Pol. Marry, I'll teach you think yourself a baby; That you have ta'en his tenders for true pay, dearly; Tender yourself more Or, (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Oph. My lord, he hath impórtuned me with love, In honourable fashion. Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With all the vows of heaven. Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Gives 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 take for fire. From this time, daughter, Be somewhat 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 tether may he walk, Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers ;— Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, This is for all,— I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment leisure, As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Platform. Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS. 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. Indeed? I heard it not; then it draws near the season, Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within. What does this mean, my lord? Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, 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. Ham. Ay, marry, is't: Is it a custom ? And 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 traduced and tax'd of other nations : They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and, indeed, it takes From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. That for some vicious mole of nature in them, By their o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason; Shall in the general censure take corruption Hor. Look, my lord, it comes! Enter Ghost. 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, ̧ Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? do? As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Mar. Look, with what courteous action It wafts you to a more removèd ground: But do not go with it. Hor. No, by no means. Ham. It will not speak; then will I 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, It waves me forth again;-I'll follow it. Hor. What, if it tempt you toward 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, Ham. It wafts me still.-Go on, I'll follow Mar. You shall not go, my lord. Ham. Hold off your hand. My fate cries out, Hor. Be ruled, you shall not go. [Ghost beckons. Still am I call'd ;-unhand me, gentlemen; [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me: I say, away.-Go on, I'll follow thee. [Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET. Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. Hor. Have after.-To what issue will this SCENE V.-A more remote part of the Platform. Enter Ghost and HAMLET. Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? speak, I'll go |