Act IScene 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
I think it lacks of twelve.
Marcellus
No, it is struck.
Horatio
Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the seasonWherein 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 tonight and takes his rouse,Keeps wassail, and the swaggering upspring reels;And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray outThe triumph of his pledge.
Horatio
Is it a custom?
Hamlet
Ay marry is’t;And to my mind, though I am native here,And to the manner born, it is a customMore honour’d in the breach than the observance.This heavy-headed revel east and westMakes us traduc’d and tax’d of other nations:They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and indeed it takesFrom our achievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So oft it chances in particular menThat for some vicious mole of nature in them,As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty,Since nature cannot choose his origin,By their o’ergrowth of some complexion,Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’erleavensThe form of plausive manners;—that these men,Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,Being Nature’s livery or Fortune’s star,—His virtues else,—be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault. The dram of evilDoth all the noble substance of a doubtTo 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 com’st in such a questionable shapeThat I will speak to thee. I’ll call thee Hamlet,King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me!Let me not burst in ignorance; but tellWhy 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 jawsTo 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 natureSo horridly to shake our dispositionWith 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 desireTo you alone.
Marcellus
Look with what courteous actionIt waves you to a more removed ground.But do not go with it.
Horatio
No, by no means.
Hamlet
It will not speak; then will I follow it.
Horatio
Do not, my lord.
Hamlet
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 cliffThat beetles o’er his base into the sea,And there assume some other horrible formWhich 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 brainThat looks so many fathoms to the seaAnd hears it roar beneath.
Hamlet
It waves me still.Go on, I’ll follow thee.
Marcellus
You shall not go, my lord.
Hamlet
Hold off your hands.
Horatio
Be rul’d; you shall not go.
Hamlet
My fate cries out,And makes each petty artery in this bodyAs hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.
Ghost beckons.
Still am I call’d. Unhand me, gentlemen.
Breaking free from them.
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; ’tis 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
Nay, let’s follow him.
Exeunt.