shall not go.

The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into ev'ry brain,
That looks so many fathoms to the sea ;
And hears it roar beneath.

Ham. It waves me ftill: go on, I'll follow thee-
Mar. You shall not go, my lord.
Ham. Hold off your hands.
Mar. Be rul'd, you

Ham. My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve:
Still am I call'd: unband me, gentlemen-

(Breaking from them. By heaven, l'll make a Ghost of him that lets me I say, away-go on -I'll follow thee

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. Hor. He waxes desp'rate 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. Heav'n will direct it. Mar. Nay, let's follow him.

[Exeunt. SC E N E VIII.

Changes to a more remote Part of the Platforma.

Re-enter Ghot and Hamlet, Ham. THERE wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll

go no further.
Ghost. Mark me.
Ham. I will.

Ghost. My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Muft render up myself.

Ham. Alas, poor Ghost !

Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To wbat I fall unfold.

Ham,

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 too fast in fires ;
'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 barrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotty and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the freiful porcupine :
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood; list, lift, oh list!
If thou didit ever thy dear father love-

Ham. O heav'n!
Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural mur-

der.
Ham. Murder ?

Ghoft. Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most soul, llrange, and unnatural. Ham. Hafte me to know it, that I, with wings as

swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.

Ghojt I find thee apt ; And duller shouldit thou be, than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe's wharf, Wouldlt thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear : 'Tis given out, that, sleeping in my orchard, A serpent ftung me. So, the whole car of Denmark, Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble Youth, The serpent, that didit fting thy father's life,

Now

Now wears his crown..

Ham. Oh, my prophetic foul ! my uncle? Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with trait'rous gifts, (0 wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power So to seduce !) won to his shameful luft The will of my most seeming virtuous Queen. Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there! From me, whose 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, whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine! But virtue, as it never will be mov'd, Though lewdnefs court it in a fhape of heav'n; So luft, though to a radiant angel link'd, Will sate itself in a celestial bed, And prey on garbage But, foft! methinks, I scent the morning air Brief let me be; Sleeping within mine orchard, My custom always of the afternoon, Upon my secure bour-thy uncle stole With juice of cursed hebenon in a phial, And in the porches of mine ears did pour The leperous diftilment; whose effeci Holds such an enmity with blood of man, That swift as quick-filver it courses through The nat'ral gates and allies of the body; And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood : so did it mine, And a inust instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust All my finooth body:Thus was I sleeping, by a brother's hand, Of life, of Crown, of Queen, * at once dispatcht; Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, at once dispatcht ;] Dispatch, for berest.

Unhousel'd,

*

+ Unhousel'd, I unanointed, | unanel'd:
No reck’ning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
Oh, horrible ! oh, horrible ! most horrible !
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not ;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But howsoever thou pursu'st this a&,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy foul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heav'n,
And to those thorns that in her bofom 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 gunefíectual fire.
Adieu, adieu, adieu ; remember me.

(Exit. Ham. Oh, all you hoft of heav'n! oh earth! what

else?
And shall I couple hell? oh fie ! hold my heart !
And you, my finews, grow not instant old;
But bear me flifly up.

Remember thee !
Ay, thou poor Ghoft, while memory bolds a seat
In this distracted globe ? remember thee !
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All faws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of

my brain,
Unmix'd with baler maiter. Yes, by heav'n:
Oh most pernicious woman!
Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain !
My tables,-_-meet it is, I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain ;
At least, I'm sure, it may be so in Denmark. [Writing,

† Unhousel'd.] Without the Sacrament being taken. Mr. Pope.
1. Unanointed,] Without extreme Unåion.
i Unanei'd :]

Mr. "Pope. -uneffectual fire.] i. c. thining without Heat. Warb.

Mr. Pope.

Knell rung:

So,

So, uncle, there you are; now to my

word; It is; Adieu, adieu, remember me: I've sworn it.

lord,

S CE N E IX.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Hor. Y Lord,

Mar. Lord Hanlet, Hor. Heav'n secure 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 I, my lord, by heav'n. Mar. Nor I, my lord. Ham. How say you then, would heart of man once

think it ? But you'll be secret

Both. Ay, by heav'n, my lord.
Ham. There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Den-

mark, But he's an arrant knave. Hor. There needs no Ghost, my lord, come from

the Grave To tell us this.

Ham. Why, right, you are i' th' right; And so without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we lbake hands, and part; You, as your business and desires shall point you ; (For every man has business and desire, Such as it is) and, for my own poor part, Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

Hor.

I will go pray: