Ham. What?
Gho. I am thy Fathers Spirit,
Doom'd for a certaine terme to walke the night;[2]
And for the day confin'd to fast in Fiers,[3]
Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of Nature
Are burnt and purg'd away? But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my Prison-House;
I could a Tale vnfold, whose lightest word[4]
Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like Starres, start from their Spheres,
Thy knotty and combined locks to part, [Sidenote: knotted]
And each particular haire to stand an end,[5]
Like Quilles vpon the fretfull[6] Porpentine [Sidenote: fearefull[6]
But this eternall blason[7] must not be
To eares of flesh and bloud; list Hamlet, oh list,
[Sidenote: blood, list, ô list;]
If thou didst euer thy deare Father loue.
Ham. Oh Heauen![8] [Sidenote: God]
Gho. Reuenge his foule and most vnnaturall Murther.[9]
Ham. Murther?
Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the best it is; But this most foule, strange, and vnnaturall.
Ham. Hast, hast me to know it, [Sidenote: Hast me to know't,] That with wings as swift
[Footnote 1: The night is the Ghost's day.]
[Footnote 2: To walk the night, and see how things go, without being able to put a finger to them, is part of his cleansing.]
[Footnote 3: More horror yet for Hamlet.]