Given private time to you, and you yourself

Have of your audience been most free and bounteous,
If it be so-as so 't is put on me,

And that in way of caution-I must tell you,
You do not understand yourself so clearly
As it behoves my daughter and your honour.
What is between you? give me up the truth.

Ophelia. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.

Polonius. Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

Ophelia. I do not know, my lord, what I should think. Polonius. Marry, I'll teach you; think yourself a baby, That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; Or-not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus-you 'll tender me a fool.

Ophelia. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love In honourable fashion.

Polonius. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.

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Ophelia. And hath given countenance to his speech, my

lord,

With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Polonius. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows; these blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire. From this time Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence, Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is young,

And with a larger tether may he walk

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Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
Not of that dye which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
The better to beguile. This is for all;

I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,
Have you so slander any moment's leisure,
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
Look to 't, I charge you; come your ways.
Ophelia. I shall obey, my lord.

SCENE IV. The Platform.

Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS. Hamlet. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold, Horatio. It is a nipping and an eager air.

Hamlet. What hour now?

Horatio.

Hamlet. No, it is struck.

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[Exeurt.

I think it lacks of twelve.

Horatio. Indeed? I heard it not it then draws near the

season

Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

[A flourish of trumpets and ordnance shot off within. What does this mean, my lord?

Hamlet. The king doth wake to-night and takes his

rouse,

Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels ;

And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,

The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out

The triumph of his pledge.

Horatio.

Hamlet. Ay, marry is 't;

Is it a custom?

But to my mind, though I am native here
And to the manner born, it is a custom

10

More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
This heavy-headed revel east and west

Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations :
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition; and indeed it takes

From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute.

So, oft it chances in particular men,

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As, in their birth-wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin-
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,
Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners, that these men,
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-
Their virtues else-be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo—

Shall in the general censure take corruption
From that particular fault: the dram of eale
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
To his own scandal.

Horatio.

Look, my lord, it comes!

Enter GHOST.

Hamlet. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!-
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou contest in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, father; royal Dane, O, answer me!

Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,

Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,

Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature
So horridly to shake our disposition
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?

[Ghost beckons Hamlet

Horatio. It beckons you to go away with it,

As if it some impartment did desire

Marcellus. Look, with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed ground:

But do not go with it.

Horatio.

No, by no means.

Hamlet. It will not speak; then I will follow it.
Horatio. Do not, my lord.

Hamlet.

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60

Why, what should be the fear?

I do not set my life at a pin's fee;

And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?

It waves me forth again; I'll follow it.

Horatio. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,

Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
And there assume some other horrible form,

Char

Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
And draw you into madness? think of it;
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
And hears it roar beneath.

And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
Still am I call'd.-Unhand me, gentlemen.

By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
I say, away!—Go on; I'll follow thee.

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.
Horatio. He waxes desperate with imagination.
Marcellus. Let 's follow; 't is not fit thus to obey him.
Horatio. Have after.-To what issue will this come?
Marcellus. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Horatio. Heaven will direct it.

Marcellus.

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Nay, let's follow him. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Platform.

Enter GHOST and HAMLET.

Hamlet. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no

Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold.

Hamlet.

Speak; I am bound to hear.

Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
Hamlet. What?