Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through.
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And with a sudden vigour it doth posset,
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine;
And a most instant tetter bark'd about,

Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust
All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand,

Of life, of crown, of Queen, at once dispatch'd:
Cut off even in the blossom of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd;

No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head:
O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But, howsoever thou' pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught: leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.
The glow-worm shews the matin to be near,

And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:

Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.

Exit.

Ham. O, all you host of Heaven! O Earth! What

else?

O fie! - Hold, hold, my

And shall I couple Hell?-O fie!

heart;

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up! Remember thee?
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee?

Yea, from the table of my memory

I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,

All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there,
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by Heaven.
O, most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!

My tables, — meet it is, I set it down, [Writing. That one may smile, and smile, and be

lain;

a vil

At least, I am sure, it may be so in Denmark :
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;

It is, "Adieu, adieu! remember me."

I have sworn 't.

Hor. [Within.] My lord! my lord!

Mar. [Within.] Lord Hamlet!

Hor. [Within.]

Mar. [Within.] So be it!

Heaven secure him!

Hor. [Within.] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord!
Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.

Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.

Mar. How is't, my noble lord?

Hor. Not I, my lord, by Heaven.

Mar.

Nor I, my lord.

Ham. How say you, then; would heart of man

once think it?

But you'll be secret.

Hor.

Mar.}

Ay, by Heaven, my lord.

Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Den

mark,

But he's an arrant knave.

Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from

the grave

To tell us this.

Ham.

Why, right; you are i' th' right;

And so, without more circumstance at all,

I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:

You, as your business and desire shall point you,
For every man hath business and desire,

Such as it is; and, for mine own poor part,

Look you, I'll go pray.

Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my

lord.

Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; yes, 'Faith, heartily.

Hor.

There's no offence, my lord.

Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offence too. Touching this vision here, It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: For your desire to know what is between us, O'er-master 't as you may. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,

Give me one poor request.

Hor. What is't, my lord? we will.

Ham. Never make known what you have seen to

Mar.

Nor I, my lord, in faith.

Ham. Upon my sword.

Mar.

We have sworn, my lord, already.

Ham. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,

true-penny?

Come on, — you hear this fellow in the cellarage,
Consent to swear.

Hor.

Propose the oath, my lord.

Ham. Never to speak of this that you have seen,

Swear by my sword.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Hic et ubique?

ground.

ubique? then, we'll shift our

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword:

Never to speak of this that you have heard,

Swear by my sword.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Well said, old mole! can'st work i̇' th' ground so fast?

A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. Hor. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

Ham. And therefore as a stranger, give it wel

come.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dream'd of in our philosophy. But come
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet

To put an antic disposition on,

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,

Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,

As, 'Well, well, we know ;'—or, 'We could, an if

we would;

Or, 'If we list to speak;'-or, 'There be, an if they might;

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me :

this not to do,

So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear.

Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

[They kiss the hilt of HAMLET's sword.

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!

So, gentlemen,

With all my love I do commend me to you:

And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

May do, t'express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

The time is out of joint; O cursed spite!

That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come; let's go together.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. —A Room in POLONIUS'S House.

Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO.

POLONIUS.

IVE him this money, and these notes, Reynaldo.

G Reynaldo. I will, my lord.

Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Rey

naldo,