Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,
Of wicked wit and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!-won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:
O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline1
Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!
[But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed,
And prey on garbage.]
But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
My custom always in the afternoon,
Upon my sécure2 hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
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 eager3 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.]
But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a
In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond1 recórds,
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,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark:
[Writing.
Now to my word;
So, uncle, there you are.
It is, “Adieu, adieu! remember me,”
Hor. [Within] My lord, my lord!
Mar. [Within] Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS,
Mar. How is 't, my noble lord?
Hor.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
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
Ay, by heaven, my lord.
Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in
Propose the oath, my lord.
Ham. Never to speak of this that you have
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