The very place puts toys of defperation, Ham. It waves me ftill: go on, I'll follow thee— Ham. Hold off your hands. you Mar. Be rul'd, fhall not go. And makes each petty artery in this body Still am I call'd: unhand me, gentlemen [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a Ghoft of him that lets me1 fay, awaygo on I'll follow thee [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. SCENE [Exeunt. VIII. Changes to a more remote Part of the Platform. Re-enter Ghost and Hamlet. Ham. WHERE wilt thou lead me? fpeak; I'll go no further. Ghoft. Mark me. Ham. I will. Ghost. My hour is almoft come, When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames Muft render up myself. Ham. Alas, poor Ghoft! Ghoft. Pity me not, but lend thy ferious hearing To what I fhall unfold. Ham. Ham. Speak, I am bound to hear. Ghoft. So art thou to revenge, when thou fhalt hear. Ham. What? Ghoft. I am thy father's Spirit: Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, 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 most unnatural murder. Ham. Murder? Ghoft. Murder moft foul, as in the beft it is; But this moft foul, frange, and unnatural. Ham. Hafte me to know it, that I, with wings as fwift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May fweep to my revenge. Ghost I find thee apt; And duller fhouldst thou be, than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe's wharf, Wouldst thou not ftir 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 Now wears his crown.. Ham. Oh, my prophetic foul! my uncle? Ghoft. Ay, that inceftuous, that adulterate beast, 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 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- Moft lazar-like, with vile and loathfome cruft Thus was I fleeping, by a brother's hand, Of life, of Crown, of Queen, at once difpatcht; Cut off even in the bloffoms of my sin, * at once difpatcht ;] Dispatch, for bereft. Unhoufel'd, + Unhoufel'd, unanointed, || unanel'd: Taint not thy mind, nor let thy foul contrive Adieu, adieú, adieu; remember me. [Exit. Ham. Oh, all you hoft of heav'n! oh earth! what elfe? And fhall I couple hell? oh fie! hold my heart! I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, Oh villain, villain, fmiling damned villain! That one may smile, and fmile, and be a villain; Unhoufel'd.] Without the Sacrament being taken. -uneffectual fire.] i. e. fhining without Heat. [Writing. Mr. Pope. Mr. Pope. Mr. Pope. Warb. So, So, uncle, there you are; now to my word; I've fworn it. SCENE IX. Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Hor. M 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 1, my lord, by heav'n. Mar. Nor I, my lord. Ham. How fay you then, would heart of man once think it ? But you'll be fecret Both. Ay, by heav'n, my lord. 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 the Grave To tell us this. Ham. Why, right, you are i' th' right; You, as your business and defires fhall point you; (For every man has bufinefs and defire, Such as it is) and, for my own poor part, I will go pray. Hor. Thefe are but wild and whirling words, my lord. Hor. |