"And hears it roar beneath. Ham. It waves me ftill: go on, I'll follow thee. Mar. You fhall not go, my Lord. Ham. Hold off your hands. Mar. Be rul'd, you fhall not go. Ham. My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me [Exeunt Ghoft and Hamlet. Hor. He waxes defp'rate with imagination. Mar. Let's follow, 'tis not fit thus to obey him. Hor. Have after.-To what iffue 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. Changes to a more remote part of the platform. Re-enter Ghoft and Hamlet. Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? fpeak; I'll go n❤ further. Ghoft. Mark me. Ham. I will. Ghof. My hour is almost come, When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames Muft render up myself. Ham. Alas, poor Ghost? Ghoft. Pity me not, but lend thy ferious hearing To what I fhall unfold. Fam. Speak, I am bound to hear, Gheft. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Ham. What? Ghoft. I am thy father's fpirit; Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, i. e. very close confined. The particle too is used frequently for the fuperlative moft, or very. Till the foul crines done in my days of nature, But that I am forbid To tell the fecrets of my prifon-house, I could a tale unfold, whofe lightest word Would harrow up thy foul, freeze thy young blood, To ears of flesh and blood; lift, lift, oh lift! Ham. O heav'n! Ghoft. Revenge his foul and moft unnatural murther. Ham. Murther? Ghoft. Murther moft foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. [fwift Ham. 66 Hafte me to know it, that I, with wings as "As meditation or the thoughts of love, May fweep to my revenge. Ghoft. I find thee apt; "And duller shouldst thou be, than the fat weed "That roots itself in eafe on Lethe's wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: 'Tis given out, that, fleeping in my orchard, A ferpent ftung me. So, the whole ear of Denmark Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth, Now wears his crown. Ham. Oh, my prophetic foul! my uncle? Ghoft. Ay, that inceftuous, that adulterate beaft, With witchcraft of his wit, with trait'rous gifts, (O wicked wit, and gifts that have the power So to feduce !), won to his fhameful luft The will of my moft feeming-virtuous Queen. Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there! From me, whofe love was of that dignity, That it went hand in hand ev'n with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch, whofe natural gifts were poor To thofe of mine! But But Virtue, as it never will be mov'd, Though Lewdnefs court it in a fhape of heav'n; And prey on garbage But, foft! methinks I fcent the morning-air Brief let me be: Sleeping within mine orchard, My cuftom always of the afternoon, Upon my fecure hour thy uncle ftole Thus was I, fleeping, by a brother's hand, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy foul contrive dilpatch'd, for bereft. i. e. without the facrament being taken. i. e. no kneli rung. ** i. c. fhining without heat; Adieu, adieu, adieu: remember me. [Exit. Ham. Oh, all you hoft of heav'n! oh earth! what And thall I couple hell? oh fie! hold my heart! [elfe? Ay, thou poor Ghost, while memory holds a feat "I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain; meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; So, uncle, there you are; now to my word; I've fworn it [Writing SCENE IX. Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Hor. My Lord, my Lord, Mar. Lord Hamlet, Hor. Heav'n fecure him! Mar. So be it. Hor. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord! Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy; come, bird, come *. Mar. How is't, my Noble Lord! Hor. What news, my Lord? Ham. Oh, wonderful! Hor. Good my Lord, tell it. Ham. No, you'll reveal it. Hor. Not I, my Lord, by heav'n. Mar. Nor I, my Lord. Ham. How fay you then, would heart of man once But you'll be fecret [think it? Both. Ay, by heav'n, my Lord. *This is the call which falconers ufe to their hawk in the air, when they would have them come down to them, Ham. Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave. Hor. There needs no ghoft, my Lord, come from To tell us this. Ham. Why, right, you are i' th' right; And fo without more circumftance at all, I hold it fit that we fhake hands, and part; [the grave You, as your business and defires fhall point you; (For every man has business and desire, Such as it is) and, for my own poor part, I will go pray. Hor. Thefe are but wild and whurling words, my Lord. Ham. I'm forry they offend you, heartily; Yes, heartily. Hor. There's no offence, my Lord. Ham. Yes, by St. Patrick, but there is, my Lord, And much offence too. Touching this vision hereIt is an honeft ghoft, that let me tell you: For you defire to know what is between us, Give me one poor request. Hor. What is't, my Lord? Ham. Never make known what you have seen tonight. Both. My Lord, we will not. Ham. Nay, but fwear't. Hor. In faith, my Lord, not I. Mar. Nor I, my Lord, in faith. Ham. Upon my fword. Mar. We have fworn, my Lord, already. Ham. Indeed, upon my fword, indeed. Gheft. Swear. [Ghoft cries under the flage. Ham. Ah ha, boy, fay'ft thou fo? art thou there, true-penny? Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellaridge. Hor. Propofe the oath, my Lord. Ham. Never to fpeak of this that you have seen, Swear by my fword. Ghaft. Swear. |