603410 Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus. 604411Ham. The ayre bites
shrewd; it is an eager and
605412An nipping winde, what houre i'
st?
607413Hor. I think it lacks of twelue,
Sound Trumpets. Hora.
Prince of Denmarke.
609415Hor. Indeed I heard it not, what doth this mean my lord?
612416Ham. O the king doth wake to night, & takes his row
se,
613417Keepe wa
ssel, and the
swaggering vp-
spring reeles,
614418And as he dreames, his draughts of reni
sh downe,
615419The kettle, drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out,
616420The triumphes of his pledge.
617421Hor. Is it a cu
stome here?
618422Ham. I mary i'
st and though I am
619423Natiue here, and to the maner borne,
620424It is a cu
stome, more honourd in the breach,
623427Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes.
624428Ham. Angels and Mini
sters of grace defend vs,
625429Be thou a
spirite of health, or goblin damn'd,
626430Bring with thee ayres from heanen, or bla
sts from hell:
627431Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
628432Thou comme
st in
such que
stionable
shape,
629433That I will
speake to thee,
434Ile call thee
Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane,
630435O an
swere mee, let mee not bur
st in ignorance,
631436But
say why thy canonizd bones hear
sed in death
633437Haue bur
st their ceremonies: why thy Sepulcher,
634438In which wee
saw thee quietly interr'd,
635439Hath bur
st his ponderous and marble Iawes,
636440To ca
st thee vp againe: what may this meane,
637441That thou, dead cor
se, againe in compleate
steele,
638442Reui
ssets thus the glim
ses of the Moone,
639443Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature,
640444So horridely to
shake our di
spo
sition,
641445With thoughts beyond the reaches of our
soules?
642446Say,
speake, wherefore, what may this meane?
644447Hor. It beckons you, as though it had
something
647449Mar. Looke with what courteous a
ction
648450It waues you to a more remoued ground,
C3 But
The Tragedie of Hamlet
650452Hor. No, by no meanes my Lord.
651453Ham. It will not
speake, then will I follow it.
658454Hor. What if it tempt you toward the
flood my Lord.
660455That beckles ore his bace, into the
sea,
661456And there a
ssume
some other horrible
shape,
662457Which might depriue your
soueraigntie of rea
son,
663458And driue you into madne
sse: thinke of it.
664459Ham. Still am I called, go on, ile follow thee.
665460Hor. My Lord, you
shall not go.
653461Ham. Why what
should be the feare?
654462I do not
set my life at a pinnes fee,
655463And for my
soule, what can it do to that?
656464Being a thing immortall, like it
selfe,
465Go on, ile follow thee.
667466Mar. My Lord be rulde, you
shall not goe.
668467Ham. My fate cries out, and makes each pety Artiue
670468As hardy as the Nemeon Lyons nerue,
671469Still am I cald, vnhand me gentlemen;
672470By heauen ile make a gho
st of him that lets me,
673471Away I
say, go on, ile follow thee.
675472Hor. He waxeth de
sperate with imagination.
678473Mar. Something is rotten in the
state of
Denmarke. 677474Hor. Haue after; to what i
ssue will this
sort?
676475Mar. Lets follow, tis not
fit thus to obey him.
exit.