Hamlet
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,[72]
And you are staid for. There,--my blessing with you!
[_Laying his hand on_ LAERTES' _head_.]
And these few precepts in thy memory--
Look thou charácter.[73] Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought[74] his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure,[75] but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are most select and generous, chief in that.[76]
Neither a borrower nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.[77]
This above all,--To thine ownself be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee![78]
_Laer._ Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
[_Crosses to_ L.]
Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well
What I have said to you.
_Oph._ (_Crosses to_ LAERTES.) 'Tis in my memory lock'd,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.[79]
_Laer._ Farewell.
[_Exit_ LAERTES, L.H.]
_Pol._ What is it, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
_Oph._ So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet.
_Pol._ Marry, well bethought:
'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late
Given private time to you;[80] and you yourself
Have of your audience been most free and bounteous:
If it be so (as so 'tis put on me,[81]
And that in way of caution), I must tell you,
You do not understand yourself so clearly
As it behoves my daughter, and your honour.
What is between[82] you? give me up the truth.
_Oph._ He hath, my lord, of late, made many tenders
Of his affection to me.
_Pol._ Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,
Unsifted[83] in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
_Oph._ I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
_Pol._ Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby;
That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;
Or, you'll tender me a fool.
_Oph._ My lord, he hath impórtun'd 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 almost all the holy vows of heaven.
_Pol._ Ay, springes to catch woodcocks.[84] I do know,
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows: This is for all,--
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,
Have you so slander any leisure moment,[85]
As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet.
Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.
_Oph._ I shall obey, my lord.
[_Exeunt_, R.H.]
SCENE IV.--THE PLATFORM. NIGHT.
_Enter_ HAMLET, HORATIO, _and_ MARCELLUS (L.H.U.E.)
_Ham._ The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
_Hor._ It is a nipping and an eager air.[86]
_Ham._ What hour now?
_Hor._ I think it lacks of twelve.
_Mar._ No, it is struck.
_Hor._ (R.C.) 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 without._]
What does this mean, my lord?
_Ham._ (L.C.) The king doth wake to-night,[87] and takes his
rouse,[88]
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.
_Hor._ Is it a custom?
_Ham._ Ay, marry, is't:
[_Crosses to_ HORATIO.]
But 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.
_Enter_ Ghost (L.H.)
_Hor._ (R.H.) Look, my lord, it comes!
_Ham._ (C.) 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,[89]
That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee--Hamlet,
King, father: Royal Dane: O, answer me!
Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,[90]
Have burst their cerements;[91] why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in cómplete steel,
Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature[92]
So horridly to shake our disposition[93]
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
[Ghost _beckons._]
_Hor._ It beckons you to go away with it,
As if it some impartment did desire
To you alone.
[Ghost _beckons again._]
_Mar._ Look, with what courteous action
It waves you to a more removèd ground:[94]
But do not go with it.
_Hor._ 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;[95]
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
[Ghost _beckons._]
It waves me forth again;--I'll follow it.
_Hor._ What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,[96]
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
That beetles o'er his base into the sea,[97]
And there assume some other horrible form,
And draw you into madness?
[Ghost _beckons._]
_Ham._ It waves me still.--
Go on; I'll follow thee.
_Mar._ You shall not go, my lord.
_Ham._ Hold off your hands.
_Hor._ Be rul'd; you shall not go.
_Ham._ My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.[98]
[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:--[99]
I say, away!--Go on; I'll follow thee.
[_Exeunt_ Ghost _and_ HAMLET, L.H., _followed at a distance by_
HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS.]
SCENE V.--A MORE REMOTE PART OF THE PLATFORM. NIGHT.
_Re-enter_ Ghost _and_ HAMLET (L.H.U.E.)
_Ham._ (R.) Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak; I'll go no further.
_Ghost._ (L.) Mark me.
_Ham._ I will.
_Ghost._ My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.
_Ham._ Alas, poor ghost!
_Ghost._ Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
_Ham._ 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,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,[100]
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul;[101] freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres;
Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end,[102]
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:[103]
But this eternal blazon[104] must not be
To ears of flesh and blood.--List, list, O, list!--
If thou didst ever thy dear father love,----
_Ham._ O Heaven!
_Ghost._ Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
_Ham._ Murder!
_Ghost._ Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
_Ham._ Haste me to know it, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love,
May sweep to my revenge.
_Ghost._ I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,[105]
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis given out that, sleeping in mine orchard,[106]
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process[107] of my death
Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life
Now wears his crown.
_Ham._ O, my prophetic soul! my uncle!
_Ghost._ Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,
Won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming virtuous queen:
O, Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch,[108] whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!
But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be.--Sleeping within mine orchard,
My custom always in the afternoon,
Upon my secure[109] hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon[110] in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
So did it mine;
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatch'd:[111]
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd;[112]
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
_Ham._ O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
_Ghost._ If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury[113] and damnèd incest.
But, howsoever thou pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught: leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire:[114]
Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
[_Exit_, L.H.]
_Ham._ Hold, hold, my heart;
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up.--Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe.[115] Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all forms, all pressures past,[116]
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven,
I have sworn't.
_Hor._ (_Without._) My lord, my lord,----
_Mar._ (_Without._) Lord Hamlet,----
_Hor._ (_Without._) Heaven secure him!
_Ham._ So be it!
_Mar._ (_Without._) Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
_Ham._ Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.[117]
_Enter_ HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS (L.H.U.E.)
_Mar._ (R.) How is't, my noble lord?
_Hor._ (L.) What news, my lord?
_Ham._ (C.) O, wonderful!
_Hor._ Good my lord, tell it.
_Ham._ No;
You will reveal it.
_Hor._ Not I, my lord, by heaven.
_Mar._ Nor I, my lord.