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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)

    The Tragedie of Hamlet
    Gho st . Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing
    690 To what I shall vnfold.
    Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare.
    Gho st . So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare.
    Ham. What?
    Gho st . I am thy fathers spirit,
    695 Doomd for a certaine tearme to walke the night,
    And for the day confind to fa st in fires,
    Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of nature
    Are burnt and purg'd away: but that I am forbid
    To tell the secrets of my prison house,
    700 I could a tale vnfolde whose lighte st word
    Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood,
    Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
    Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
    And each particuler haire to stand an end,
    705 Like quils vpon the fearefull Porpentine,
    But this eternall blazon mu st not be
    To eares of fle sh and blood, li st, li st, ô li st:
    If thou did' st euer thy deare father loue.
    Ham. O God.
    710 Gho st . Reuenge his foule, and mo st vnnaturall murther.
    Ham. Murther.
    Gho st . Murther mo st foule, as in the be st it is,
    But this mo st foule, strange and vnnaturall.
    Ham. Ha st me to know't, that I with wings as swift
    As meditation, or the thoughts of loue
    May sweepe to my reuenge.
    Gho st . I find thee apt,
    And duller should st thou be then the fat weede
    720 That rootes it selfe in ease on Lethe wharffe,
    Would' st thou not sturre in this; now Hamlet heare,
    Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my Orchard,
    A Serpent stung me, so the whole eare of Denmarke
    Is by a forged proce s s e of my death
    725 Ranckely abusde: but knowe thou noble Youth,
    The Serpent that did sting thy fathers life
    Now weares his Crowne.
    Ham. O my propheticke soule! my Vncle?
    Gho st .