wassel, and the swaggering vp-spring reeles,
And as he dreames, big draughts of renish downe,
The kettle, drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out,
The triumphes of his pledge.
Hor. Is it a custome here?
Ham. I mary i'st and though I am
Natiue here, and to the maner borne,
It is a custome, more honourd in the breach,
Then in the obseruance.
Enter the Ghost.
Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes.
Ham. Angels and Ministers of grace defend vs,
Be thou a spirite of health, or goblin damn'd,
Bring with thee ayres from heanen, or blasts from hell:
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou commest in such questionable shape,
That I will speake to thee,
Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane,
O answere mee, let mee not burst in ignorance,
But say why thy canonizd bones hearsed in death
Haue burst their ceremonies: why thy Sepulcher,
In which wee saw thee quietly interr'd,
Hath burst his ponderous and marble Iawes,
To cast thee vp againe: what may this meane,
That thou, dead corse, againe in compleate steele,
Reuissets thus the glimses of the Moone,
Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature,
So horridely to shake our disposition,
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules?
Say, speake, wherefore, what may this meane?
Hor. It beckons you, as though it had something
To impart to you alone.
Mar. Looke with what courteous action
It waues you to a more remoued ground,
But do not go with it. [C3v]
Hor. No, by no meanes my Lord.
Ham. It will not speake, then will I follow it.
Hor. What if it tempt you toward the flood my Lord.
That beckles ore his bace, into the sea,
And there assume some other horrible shape,
Which might depriue your soueraigntie of reason,
And driue you into madnesse: thinke of it.
Ham. Still am I called, go on, ile follow thee.
Hor. My Lord, you shall not go.
Ham. Why what should be the feare?
I do not set my life at a pinnes fee,
And for my soule, what can it do to that?
Being a thing immortall, like it selfe,
Go on, ile follow thee.
Mar. My Lord be rulde, you shall not goe.
Ham. My fate cries out, and makes each pety Artiue
As hardy as the Nemeon Lyons nerue,
Still am I cald, vnhand me gentlemen;
By heauen ile make a ghost of him that lets me,
Away I say, go on, ile follow thee.
Hor. He waxeth desperate with imagination.
Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmarke.
Hor. Haue after; to what issue will this sort?
Mar. Lets follow, tis not fit thus to obey him. exit.
Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
Ham. Ile go no farther, whither wilt thou leade me?
Ghost Marke me.
Ham. I will.
Ghost I am thy fathers spirit, doomd for a time
To walke the night, and all the day
Confinde in flaming fire,
Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of Nature
Are purged and burnt away.
Ham. Alas poore Ghost.
Ghost Nay pitty me not, but to my vnfolding
Lend thy listning eare, but that I am forbid [C4]
To tell the secrets of my prison house
I would a tale vnfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy yong blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular haire to stand on end
Like quils vpon the fretfull Porpentine,
But this same blazon must not be, to eares of flesh and blood
Hamlet, if euer thou didst thy deere father loue.
Ham. O God.
Gho. Reuenge his foule, and most vnnaturall murder:
Ham. Murder.
Ghost Yea, murder in the highest degree,
As in the least tis bad,
But mine most foule, beastly, and vnnaturall.
Ham. Haste me to knowe it, that with wings as swift as
meditation, or the thought of it, may sweepe to my reuenge.
Ghost O I finde thee apt, and duller shouldst thou be
Then the fat weede which rootes it selfe in ease
On Lethe wharffe: briefe let me be.
Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my orchard,
A Serpent stung me; so the whole eare of Denmarke
Is with a forged Prosses of my death rankely abusde:
But know thou noble Youth: he that did sting
Thy fathers heart, now weares his Crowne.
Ham. O my prophetike soule, my vncle! my vncle!
Ghost Yea he, that incestuous wretch, wonne to his will
O wicked will, and gifts! that haue the power (with gifts,
So to seduce my most seeming vertuous Queene,
But vertne, as it neuer will be moued,
Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of heauen,
So Lust, though to a radiant angle linckt,
Would fate it selfe from a celestiall bedde,
And prey on garbage: but soft, me thinkes
I sent the mornings ayre, briefe let me be,
Sleeping within my Orchard, my custome alwayes [C4v]
In the after noone, vpon my secure houre
Thy vncle came, with iuyce of Hebona
In a viall, and through the porches of my eares
Did powre the leaprous distilment, whose effect
Hold such an enmitie with blood of man,
That swift as quickesilner, it posteth through
The naturall gates and allies of the body,
And turnes the thinne and wholesome blood
Like eager dropings into milke.
And all my smoothe body, barked, and tetterd ouer.
Thus was I sleeping by a brothers
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