1.4.0.2Enter Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus. The air bites shrewdly; is it very cold?
It is a nipping and an eager air.
What hour now?
I think it lacks of twelve.
No, it is struck.
Indeed? I heard it not. Then it draws near the season
1.4.7610Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
1.4.7.1[A flourish of trumpets, and two pieces go off.] The King doth wake tonight, and takes his rouse,
1.4.10613Keeps wassails, and the swaggering upspring reels;
1.4.11614And as he drains his drafts of Rhenish down
1.4.12615The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out
Is it a custom?
Ay, marry, is't,
1.4.16619And to my mind, though I am native here
1.4.17620And to the manner born, it is a custom
1.4.18621More honored in the breach than the observance.
Look, my lord, it comes!
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
1.4.21625Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
1.4.22626Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
1.4.24628Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
1.4.25629That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,
1.4.26630King, father, royal Dane. Oh, oh, answer me!
1.4.27631Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
1.4.28632Why thy canonized bones, hearsèd in death,
1.4.29633Have burst their cerements, why the sepulcher
1.4.31635Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws
1.4.32636To cast thee up again? What may this mean,
1.4.33637That thou, dead corse, again in compleat steel,
1.4.34638Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,
1.4.35639Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
1.4.36640So horridly to shake our disposition
1.4.37641With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
1.4.38642Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
It beckons you to go away with it,
To you alone. Look with what courteous action
1.4.42648It wafts you to a more removèd ground.
But do not go with it. No, by no means.
It will not speak. Then will I follow it.
Do not, my lord.
Do not, my lord. Why, what should be the fear?
1.4.46654I do not set my life at a pin's fee,
1.4.47655And for my soul, what can it do to that,
1.4.49657It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.
What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
1.4.51659Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
1.4.52660That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
1.4.53661And there assumes some other horrible form
1.4.54662Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
1.4.55663And draw you into madness? Think of it.
It wafts me still.--Go on, I'll follow thee.
You shall not go, my lord.[They attempt to restrain him.]
You shall not go, my lord.[They attempt to restrain him.] Hold off your hand!
Be ruled. You shall not go.
Be ruled. You shall not go. My fate cries out
1.4.59669And makes each petty artery in this body
1.4.60670As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
1.4.61671Still am I called? Unhand me, gentlemen!
1.4.62672By heav'n, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.
1.4.63673I say, away!--Go on, I'll follow thee.
He waxes desperate with imagination.
Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him.
Have after. To what issue will this come?
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Heaven will direct it.
Heaven will direct it. Nay, let's follow him.
Exeunt.