Pol.

Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,
Unsifted 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 impòrtuned 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. 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 moment's leisure,
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
Look to 't, I charge you: come your ways.

I shall obey, my lord.

Oph.

[Exeunt Polonius and Ophelia R

DIM STARLIGHT.

Scene Third.-THE PLATFORM.

[Enter Hamlet and Horatio, to Marcellus, who is on guard.

Hamlet.

The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

[A flourish of trumpets: ordnance shot off, within. What does this mean, my lord?

Hamlet.

The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.

Is it a custom ?

Ay, marry, is 't:

Horatio.

Hamlet.

But to my mind, though I am native here,
And to the manner born,-it is a custom

More honoured in the breach than the observancę.

Horatio.

Look, my lord, it comes!

[Enter Ghost R. I. E.

Hamlet.

Angels and ministers of grace defend us! —

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou comest in such a questionable shape,

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 canònised bones, hearsèd in death,
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre
Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urned,
Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,
Re-visit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature,
So horridly to shake our disposition,

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
[The Ghost beckons Hamlet.

Horatio.

It beckons you to go away with it,
As if it some impartment did desire
To you alone.

Mar.

Look, with what courteous action

It waves you to a more removèd ground:
But do not go with it.

[Ghost beckons.

No, by no means.

Horatio.

Hamlet.

It will not speak; then will I follow it.

Horatio.

Do not, my lord.

Hamlet.

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.

Horatio.

[Ghost beckons.

What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff

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?

[Ghost beckons.

You shall not go, my lord.

[Horatio and Marcellus seise Hamlet and strive to hold him.

My fate cries out,

Horatio.

Hamlet.

And makes each petty artery in this body

As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.

[Ghost beckons.

Still am I called:- unhand me, gentlemen ;

By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me :

I say, away!

Go on; I'll follow thee.

Breaking from them.

Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. Horatio and Marcellus follow slowly.

Scene Fourth.-ANOTHER PART OF THE PLATFORM.

[Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

Hamlet.

Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak; I'll go no further.

My hour is almost come,

When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames.

Must render up myself.

Alas! poor ghost!

Hamlet.

Ghost.

Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I shall unfold.

Hamlet.

Speak; I am bound to hear.

Ghost.

So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

What?

Hamlet.