Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, 40 Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou comest in such a questionable shape Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, To cast thee up again. What may this mean, 50 With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? Hor. It beckons you to go away with it, Mar. Hor. Look, with what courteous action 60 It waves you to a more removed ground: But do not go with it. No, by no means. 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, It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. Hor. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Ham. That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form, It waves me still. Go on; I'll follow thee. Mar. You shall not go, my lord. Ham. 70 Hold off your hands. 80 Hor. Be ruled; you shall not go. My fate cries out, By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! [Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. 90 Ham. Whither wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no Ham. When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Alas, poor ghost! Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing Ham. To what I shall unfold. Speak; I am bound to hear. Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Ham. What? Ghost. I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, ΙΟ Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Thy knotted and combined locks to part To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! Ham. O God! Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is, But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. May sweep to my revenge. Ghost. Ham. I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed 20 30 Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, My uncle! Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,— The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen : But virtue, as it never will be moved, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, And prey on garbage. But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; 50 60 The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; 70 And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, All my smooth body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: |