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.

608414Mar. No, t'is strucke.

609415Hor. Indeed I heard it not, what doth this mean my lord?

612416Ham. O the king doth wake to night, & takes his rowse,

613417Keepe wassel, and the swaggering vp-spring reeles,

614418And as he dreames, his draughts of renish downe,

615419The kettle, drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out,

616420The triumphes of his pledge.

617421Hor. Is it a custome here?

618422Ham. I mary i'st and though I am

619423Natiue here, and to the maner borne,

620424It is a custome, more honourd in the breach,

621425Then in the obseruance.

623427Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes.

624428Ham. Angels and Ministers of grace defend vs,

625429Be thou a spirite of health, or goblin damn'd,

626430Bring with thee ayres from heanen, or blasts from hell:

627431Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

628432Thou commest in such questionable shape,

629433That I will speake to thee,

434Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane,

630435O answere mee, let mee not burst in ignorance,

631436But say why thy canonizd bones hearsed in death

633437Haue burst their ceremonies: why thy Sepulcher,

634438In which wee saw thee quietly interr'd,

635439Hath burst his ponderous and marble Iawes,

636440To cast thee vp againe: what may this meane,

637441That thou, dead corse, againe in compleate steele,

638442Reuissets thus the glimses of the Moone,

639443Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature,

640444So horridely to shake our disposition,

641445With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules?

642446Say, speake, wherefore, what may this meane?

644447Hor. It beckons you, as though it had something

645448To impart to you alone.

647449Mar. Looke with what courteous action

648450It waues you to a more remoued ground,

C3 But

649451But do not go with it.

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 assume some other horrible shape,

662457Which might depriue your soueraigntie of reason,

663458And driue you into madnesse: 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 ghost of him that lets me,

673471Away I say, go on, ile follow thee.

675472Hor. He waxeth desperate with imagination.

678473Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmarke.

677474Hor. Haue after; to what issue will this sort?

676475Mar. Lets follow, tis not fit thus to obey him.