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Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his
rouse. Keeps wassel," and the swaggering up-spring : reels; 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: 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. This heavy-headed revel, east and west, Makes us traduc'd, and tax'd of other nations : They clepe us, drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and, indeed it takes From our achievements, though perform’d at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute.* So, oft it chances in particular men, That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin,) By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason; Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners ;—that these men,Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect; Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace, As infinite as man may undergo,)? Shall in the general censure take corruption From that particular fault: The dram of base
• A draft of jollity, a large dose of liquor. e devotes the night to intemperance.
3 up-spring, blustering upstart, according to Dr. Johnson ; but, according to Mr. Steevens, a German dance.
4 the best and most valuable part of the praise that would be otherwise attributed to us.
5 humour. 6 intermingles too much with their manners, 7 as large as can be accumulated on man.
Doth all the noble substance often dout,'
Enter Ghost. Hor.
Look, my lord, it comes !
Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,
Look, with what courteous action
No, by no means.
do out, efface. : so as to reduce the whole mass of worth to its own vicious and scandalous nature.
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, Being a thing immortal as itself? It waves me forth again; I'll follow it.
Hor. What, if it tempt you toward the flood, my Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff,
Llord, That beetles' o'er his base into the sea; And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason, And draw you into madness ? think of it. The very place puts toys? of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain, That looks so many fathoms to the sea, And hears it roar beneath. Нат.
It waves me still:-
Mar. You shall not go, my lord.
Hold off your hands.
My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.—[Ghost beckons. Still am I calld;—unhand me, gentlemen ;
Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets 3 me:I say, away :-Go on, I'll follow thee.
[Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET. Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. Hor. Have after :—to what issue will this come? Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Hor. Heaven will direct it. Μαν.
Nay, let's follow him. [Exeunt.
· hangs o'er.
SCENE V.-A more remote part of the platform.
Re-enter Ghost and HAMLET. Ham. Whither wilt thou lead me ? speak, I'll go Ghost. Mark me.
(no further. Ham.
I will. Ghost.
My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Нат.
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;
Ham. O heaven!
Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is ;
Ham. Haste me to know it; that I, with wings as
As meditation, or the thoughts of love,
I find thee apt;,
Ham. O, my prophetick soul! my uncle!
Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, (O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power So to seduce !) won to his shameful lust The will of my most seeming virtuous queen • 0, 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, 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 of the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursed hebanon 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; And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk,